Page 16 of Fall Wherever They May

Me:I’m serious. I’m pretty sure my ass is about to be traded.

I plop down to rest, waiting for his reply.

Carter:Why? What happened?

Me:Remember that woman I ran into the other day?

Carter:You mean the woman whose car you smashed into? Yeah, what about her?

Me:That’s the new owner.

Carter:You mean the woman you accused of being drunk and high?

Me:In my defense, I thought she was drunk or high.

Me:She was driving like a fucking idiot.

Carter:The same woman who lives across the street?

Me:Don’t fucking remind me.

Carter:The same woman you said had an accent so sexy and hypnotizing that you could listen to her voice for hours.

Me:I didn’t say that.

Carter:Eh, I’m pretty sure you said that.

Carter:She was the same woman who got that kid from the party, right? The one you and Aiden were talking about?

Me:Yeah . . . why?

Carter:You said what you said.

Me:Whatever, dude. Would you stop?

Carter:Truth hurts.

Me:She came down to the ice and said, “I own you.”

Carter:LMAO. She came down there just to tell you that she owned your ass?

Me:No. She came down to get her kid. I was teaching him how to deke. Dude, I gotta tell you, this kid is talented. Like God-gifted natural talent.

Carter:Be there in a few.

I head to the locker room, take a shower, and dress for the team meeting. We always dress up when we have meetings like this. I pair navy Armani pants with a white button-up shirt and a silver tie. It’s a little after one o’clock when Carter walks into the locker room. One hand is in the pocket of his black dress pants, while the other smooths down his tie. Facing me, he casually leans his shoulder against the doorway. “So, are we going to talk about it?”

“Talk about what?” I grab my keys and make my way out of the locker room, passing him. The conference room is on the second floor, so I trek up the stairs, passing the red stadium benches, with Carter trailing behind me.

“Oh, I don’t know . . . maybe the fact you took time out of your solo practice to play hockey with a kid you don’t even know. That’s not like you.”

“It’s not a big deal. And the kid was cool,” I shrug.

“The kid was cool?” He looks at me incredulously.

He’s making a mountain out of a molehill with this. It’s not that I don’t like kids; I actually love kids. I mean, look at Elija; I love that kid as if he were my own. If he were to ask me to skate with him, I would. Tucker asked me if I would teach him something, so I took a little time out of my practice; it isn’t something I would normally do, but I’m not a complete dick.

“Yeah, the kid was cool,” I say nonchalantly, shrugging one shoulder.

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