Page 117 of Loving Ladybug: Part One
We did the routine again. Coach Kirov kept complaining that she wasn’t as young as we were. Not that she was old.
Much of the choreography hinged on the fact that goalies were a flexible bunch. Timing was also key.
“Double D, non, you go left, not right, Peter will go right,” JP directed.
“Who is Peter and where is he?” Dean looked around.
“Peter has another wedding, but he’ll be here tomorrow.” JP shrugged. “We played together at university.”
Well, it was the season for hockey weddings.
We finished the practice, as a few other players and people I didn’t know came in for another dance rehearsal. This one was all JP’s attendants, which were usually your siblings, cousins, and besties.
I found Clark with Anders and a few others drinking beer and eating snacks on the bar patio. Clark held out his beer. Taking a swig, I grabbed a chicken wing as he pulled me onto his lap.
“Anders, any word? Are you leaving us for the Gears?” I took another wing.
“The trade has stalled. Or at least that’s what it feels like.” Anders’ shoulders slumped.
“At least it hasn’t fallen through,” Clark replied, putting an arm around me.
Coach Kirov came over to us. “Ladybug, do you have a moment?”
“Aways,” I told her, hoping this was a good talk, and not a bad one.
We went to the bar and got some beers.
“You’re not firing me, right?” I bit my lower lip. I always felt like I was in trouble when someone asked to talk.
Coach laughed. She was a big Russian alpha who’d played in the Olympics more than once. She was here with her pack and kids. Today her blonde hair was up in a high messy bun instead of the usual bun braid she wore to the rink. Coach Kirov was good friends with my coach at community college. Before I became an EBUG, I’d babysit for Coach K. Sometimes I still did.
“You’re senior EBUG this year. This means you get to help with the schedules. I’ll send you the game schedule for the year, and the practice schedules for September and October, so you can start working on things. I’ll give you the contact info for the new one. Let me know if we need a fourth,” she told me.
We might. Weekend games were the worst, since so many collegiate teams played then.
Coach took a sip of her beer. “I hear you’ve been working hard all summer. The new assistant GM thought you were on the team. He tookemergency backup goalieto mean, as he put it, theunderstudy goalie. He came from a big theater company on the west coast, but he’s a wiz with budgets.” Her look was thoughtful, not teasing.
“I mean, we sort of are?” I laughed. Constantine didn’t seem to know much about hockey. But then a business was a business.
“Also, put me in, Coach. NYIT doesn’t penalize scholarship athletes who leave before graduation to take a contract. Just call my agent,” I teased, feeling a little bold. Not that we needed a goalie.
JP and Dean played tandem, switching off. They had us EBUGs if there was an issue during the games and could always bring someone up temporarily from their farm team.
“If you don’t have an agent, you should get one,” she added. “I’ll help you the best I can, but you know there’s a good chance you’ll end up overseas. There are lots of teams in Europe that aren’t afraid of short betas, if they have a save rate like yours.”
“Working on the agent. I’m not afraid of playing overseas or in the minors,” I replied. A couple of agents wanted to see me play when the season started.
She nodded. “That’s what I like to hear. I know you don’t shy away from hard work.”
We talked for a while longer, mostly ideas for the EBUG program for the coming year. I hadn’t realized I’d be a senior EBUG. Even though I had seniority, I figured Ty would appoint himself, given he was an alpha dude.
JP came over to us and grabbed my hand. “Coach, I need her. Come, Ladybug. We have things to do.”
I waved to Coach and let JP drag me off.
Things to doinvolved folding paper airplanes to be thrown as JP and Celine ran down the aisle as a married couple.
“Hey, are you with Clark? I thought you were into Bucket,” Dean asked as he folded a blue piece of paper.
