Page 15 of The Tape Job
“Impressive. Big things are going to happen, big things,” Johnny says. “The first cup game is the season opener, so at least we can get off to a good start. I think Coach will put you in the power play unit.”
“We’re a forward down. Any news on who’s going to fill the spot, Cap?”
I can’t make out who asks, but I do know that there’s a roster spot open for a home-grown player. Someone retired last season and for once, Johnny doesn’t know shit about it.
“No news yet,” Johnny replies, but uses this moment to take his leave.
“I still can’t believe we’ve got two ex-NHL players on our team. Are you ever going to tell us what made you commit career suicide, Prez?” Bettsy says from the shower across from Ryan.
“It’s not important,” Ryan snaps.
“I just don’t get it. It’s completely outrageous,” Bettsy says. He chirps on and on about it, using different variations of phrases.
“He had his reasons,” I say, but the look I get from Ryan tells me I should have shut my damn mouth.
“For Christ’s sake,” he snaps before grabbing his towel and stalking out. I follow him.
“Did you not tell them?” I say in a strained whisper as close as I can get to his left ear.
“No. And they don’t need to know.”
He pops his earbud in, and I put my effort into getting dressed, trying to ignore the fact that Johnny’s eyes are burning into the back of my head.
“What is it?” I glance around to him and stare.
“You need to focus, Lee. Coach isn’t overly impressed you bailed on your contract last year, so my guess is, you have zero room for fuck ups,” he says. He’s right. Agreeing to play here last season, then bailing out and sending Ryan in my place—that wasn’t cool.
“I will focus,” I say, but hearing the words aloud gives me a knot of doubt in the pit of my stomach. How can I focus when Vicky is everywhere? Fuck! I feel like such a fucking idiot, and catching sight of my game jersey in my cubby only makes me feel worse.
The white lettering gleams off the overhead lights, and the first thing that pops into my head is what Vicky would look like wearing nothing but that jersey. Maybe in a pair of those heels she has too.
I try to shake the image away because getting involved with Vicky again is not an option, even if every fibre in my body is telling me otherwise. We need to keep things platonic. But the dumb thing is, I don’t even know how to be her friend. We were everything, but never just friends.
“Any plans for the rest of the day?” Ryan asks, popping a bud out of his ear.
“Video games with Danny,” I say, because that has already become something of a habit.
“You’re coming to the junior game with me,” he says. “They have an exhibition match, and I could do with the help.”
Jen’s uncle used to coach the juniors, but now Ryan has taken over until they find a replacement.
“I have plans,” I say.
“Video games with Danny are not plans,” he says. Then he leans in. “Besides, I need to keep you out of trouble. How else can I keep you from scrolling Vic’s socials?”
“Fine. But you’re coming for a beer afterwards,” I say.
When I say beer, I mean tap water, because Ryan can be a fucking bore at times. He takes himself too seriously.
“What’s this about beers?” Bettsy’s standing there in his boxers, fighting with the legs of his pants.
“Beers tonight, Betts. May as well make a thing,” I shrug at Ryan.
“If that’s the case, everyone is coming to support the juniors. No exceptions. I want you guys cheering and shit,” he says. But I already know it’s a bad idea.
Vicky
I know Liam’s here before I see him. I can hear Ryan talking, and there’s a familiar tone of laughter that floats through the air in response. His eyes meet mine as I round the corner, and my world stops for a moment. He’s wearing a zip-up jacket with the team logo, a matching baseball cap with the peak backwards and he’s trimmed his beard right down to almost stubble—my absolute favourite. What a prick.
