Page 38 of The Import Slot
“Yeah, she says she’s not in touch with him and hasn’t spoken to him in a while.”
“Not sure if I believe that.”
“Nor do I. She was shady, like she was hiding something,” Johnny says.
I take a chance. “You realise that they’ve been on and off together since we were kids?”
Johnny doesn’t answer me straight away. Instead, he takes his cap off and runs his hands through his hair a few times. “I think I’ve always known; I just pretended it wasn’t happening. Christ, I even pretended that they went to different colleges. Nothing against Liam, but no one wants to imagine their sister doing stuff, you know?”
I nod. “Well, I think Liam was coming out here to be with Vicky, and something changed the plan.”
“Sounds logical. I’m sorry you got dragged into it.”
“It’s not your fault, bud.”
“Forget about him now, anyway. Remember what we talked about? This is your show. Make the most of it.”
“Yeah, I think you’re right,” I say.
Johnny and I have spoken a few times since discovering there was no bet. We’d revisit the same topic of where my focus is each time. Johnny insists it isn’t healthy to feel guilt for things out of my control. I don’t believe that it’s my fault that my brother hasn’t achieved the same things as me. Johnny was quick to point out that we may share the same DNA, but we are entirely different people. We have other motivators, drivers and dreams, and I should not concern myself with his career when it’s out of my control.
We spoke about my immediate future. Johnny offered to speak to management and see if he could get me released, but what good would that do? I’m also of the mindset that I’ve made a commitment to this team, and I intend to see it through. I’ve asked him not to mention it to anyone. I don’t want them to terminate my contract early and find a replacement for fear that I’ll up and leave.
“Good,” he says. “Just consider what you want, man. What do you want to get out of your life? Forget about anyone else. Time to be selfish.” There’s that word again, selfish. I wonder how long I’ve been selfish, really. It’s not a trait that I noticed before my dad started throwing the word about.
“Have you spoken to your brother yet?” he says. I shake my head. Liam has gone off the radar. He texts me back, but always with an excuse why he can’t call.
“Dad flew out to Toronto to see him. Said he’s bent his ear off, but there is not much else he can do. Liam knows how much he’s fucked up. I’ve spoken to Ronnie, too. She said he was very insistent on signing what he signed. She wouldn’t give me much else. Confidentiality.” I shrug.
“Well, let’s just make the most of your time here. I love that you’re on my team again.”
“Appreciate that. Thanks, bud.”
Johnny nods and puts his own headphones on, the universal sign for ‘we’re done talking.’
My phone pings with a message, but it’s not Jen.
Dad:Good stats tonight. Shame about the score. Any news on the buyout?
Ryan:Yeah, not going to happen. Sorry.
I leave it vague, hoping that he’ll think it’s a no from Ronnie rather than me just not asking. I’m here now. I want to stick it out.
Johnny’s other advice about living in the moment has hit home tonight too. Seeing Jen there full of support and hearing her words after the game. ‘I’m proud of you.’ No one has said that since my mom. It was never about the ‘W’ with my mom, and it doesn’t feel like it is with Jen either. She watches me with pride and curiosity. And shit, I want to make her proud.
She’s the first person I think of when I wake up and the last before I sleep. When I read something funny or do something remotely interesting, I want to tell her and I want to know all about her day. But if she just wants to be friends, I have to respect that, though that doesn’t explain that damn kiss.
Earbuds back in, I navigate over to Jen’s Instagram. Her last photo was from the season opener weekend of her and Becca, ready to go out afterwards. She’s wearing that navy blue dress with a neckline that kills me. She looked incredible, and how she wore it blew my mind. I’m not a dancer, but I wanted to ask her to dance with me, hold her close and feel her body against mine. Fuck. Now I’m hard.
The next one is her at the game wearing a home jersey with Danny’s number. Jealousy prickles through me. Fans wear replica jerseys all the time, but when someone you want wearing your number is wearing someone else’s, that’s a whole different feeling.
My mind flicks to my jersey, donned with number 47. Unfamiliar and mocking to me right now. I told the club to save their money and not change it to number 19. I didn’t want to burden them any further or see my association of ‘Preston’ on another team’s sweater. This thought is ridiculous now; I am enjoying playing with these guys, and I’m starting to feel like I fit in.
When we’ve got thirty minutes left on our journey, Bettsy nudges me as he sticks his head through the gap between the seats.
“Hey, how do you feel about a double date?” he gives me a smile, his toothless gap looking extra wide tonight.
I make a big show of looking around the coach before answering. “I’m pretty sure there are at least fifteen other guys you could ask, bud.”
