Page 157 of Between the Blue
But somehow it is. Because I’m here.
Suit and tie on. Hair combed back. And trying not to completely zone out as I attempt to understand why she’s not here.
She said she’d be here.
She was supposed to ride up with my family. But this morning she sent a message in a group chat with me and my parents that a family emergency came up and she couldn’t make it.
She said she was so sorry and wished me luck.
With the chaos of the morning, I haven’t had time to talk to her.
The chaos that is the NHL fucking Draft.
Wake up, Bennett.
I don’t know if I can.
I don’t know if I want to.
But then a name is called. Only the second name overall. One that makes me snap right back to reality.
“The Chicago Blizzard select, from the University of Toronto, Rhett Sutton.”
My eyes immediately find his.
It isn’t hard, because he’s sitting right next to me. His parents aren’t here, which isn’t surprising, but still pisses me off all the same.
Neither of us say anything right away, because there’s nothing to say.
No words are good enough.
Instead, I stand up. Help him to his feet. Then I wrap my best friend tight in my arms and for not nearly long enough, because my parents pull him away to do the same.
To be honest, my last season was good, but Sutty’s was dynamite. I always thought I was made for this. But he made himself for this. And that’s so much more impressive.
After he comes back from the stage with his red jersey and ball cap, I finally find the words.
“You deserve it.”
Sutty smiles. He’s trying to hide it, but his eyes are watering a little. “I can’t fucking believe it.”
“I can,” I tell him.
It’s a rare year. All seven rounds of the draft are taking place on the same day. Which means two hundred and twenty-four names will be called today.
When five rounds go by, and I’m still not one of them, my stomach starts to turn.
I begin replaying every move I’ve made these last two seasons.
Both on the ice and off.
I had thought, just for fleeting moments here and there, that maybe I didn’t care about this.
That I maybe didn’t even want it.
But now, as I sit here wringing my fucking hands, looking at the red jersey with the NHL logo draped over Sutty’s shoulder to one side, and glancing at the faces of my parents that gave me everything I could’ve asked for and more to play this goddamn sport, I know that I damn well want it.
I know that I’d give just about anything for it.
