Page 29 of On the Edge

“How’s the season going?”

“It is early, but I am happy. It is fun to be playing with Max Kuemper. I will be having him sign a jersey before he leaves so that I have it before he is famous.”

Sam laughs and I smile proudly. I’m not good at telling jokes, so I appreciate it when others pick up on them.

“He’s impressive. I won’t lie to you, though, I have the most fun watching the netminders. McIntire has a lot of promise. He’s already showing improvement from last year.”

“Oh yes, Micky will do well. Coach Mackenzie tells me you played at Harvard, sir. That is very exciting.”

He waves a hand. “Thank you, but I was nowhere near as good as some of you college athletes these days. You’re close with Carter Morgan, if I remember correctly?”

“Yes, he is a great friend. If I am getting this internship, I will be living with him and his boyfriend.”

I flinch as soon as I say it. It isn’t good etiquette to insinuate that you are making plans, as though you are sure you will get the thing you are interviewing for. Especially as it’s me, and I know I have more connections here than most of the other applicants probably do. Sam doesn’t correct me, just smiles.

“Zeke, right? I haven’t met him yet, but I’ve heard quite a bit about him. I imagine he and I would probably get along well.”

“Yes.” I nod, thinking of the sign on the door that showed Sam’s title. “You could talk about statistics and all the other math things. It would be like a secret language.”

Sam laughs and I smile again. Two jokes and two laughs. I’m doing good today.

“Can you tell me a little bit about your degree path? I’m interested in the foreign language minor. It doesn’t look like you’ve chosen a single language?”

I sit up a little straighter. Foreign language is the only part of my degree path I am 100% confident in.

“Yes, Sam, thank you. My main focus is media, but I am also taking foreign language classes. Because I am foreign student, there is a”—I pause, panicking as I lose the English word I wanted to use—“a…different rule? I am fluent in German, French, Russian, and Spanish. Instead of taking classes in all of these things, I am able to take a test.”

I twist my fingers together on top of my folder. I didn’t explain that right, but tripping over that word made the rest of the words more difficult. When I start to struggle, the best thing to do is to stay quiet.

“Wow,” Sam says, shaking his head. “That’s impressive. It’s an incredible achievement to be able to speak two languages fluently, let alone five.”

“Well, my English is not perfect.”

“Neither is mine,” he replies kindly. I flush a little bit at that. He seems to be a very gentle and welcoming person, and I hope more than ever that I will be offered this position. He reminds me of my brother. “Do you have any questions for me?”

“No, sir, I believe you covered them all. I will also read through the literature you provided me, as soon as I get home,” I promise.

“No need to rush. My contact information is on there—you can reach out with any questions you might think of, okay?” He waits for me to nod before grinning. “Do you wantto take a walk? I’ll show you around; introduce you to a few people.”

“I would enjoy this very much, thank you.” Nodding, I stand up.

“You can leave your things here, if you want. We’ll come back.”

Gratefully, I leave my folder on my recently vacated chair and follow Sam out the door. We stroll the halls, sticking our heads into offices to say hello to people that I desperately try to commit to memory.Sophia has scarlet hair,I repeat to myself after meeting one of the women who manages the social media.

As we walk, Sam points out various things, hands tucked casually into his pockets. He is very relaxed, so I try to emulate that. I have been so nervous for this meeting, but it has been nothing but enjoyable.

“Sam,” someone calls, and we turn around to see Corwin Sanhover walking toward us. Sam smiles widely.

“Hey, Cor. Video just finishing up?”

“Yeah, Troy will probably be waiting for you in your office.” They share a private look that I politely pretend not to see. Sam puts a friendly hand on my shoulder.

“This is Henri Vasel, one of our applicants for the new internship program.”

“I remember you well,” Corwin says, holding his hand out to me to shake. “You’ve had an incredible couple of seasons since Max Kuemper joined the team. I enjoy watching the pair of you together.”

I swell with pride at the words and wish I could have recorded that to play for Max.

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