Page 46 of Just Forever

“Shit’s awesome. It’s?—”

He’s cut off by movement at the front of the room, and we all shut up and settle in. The speeches are short. The GM, the head coach, the president of operations—they each have their own ways to pump up the team for the upcoming season, and they all stress the fact that not all of the people here are going to make the team.

“Do they think people will get too comfortable if they don’t hammer it home?” Kian whispers.

“Ninety percent of the roster has already been decided,” Laurent murmurs back. “I doubt it comes as a surprise to anybody.”

At the front of the room, Coach is finishing up his speech with a stoic “Let’s get to work.”

After that, Coach Reyes goes back to stand by the wall, flanked on either side by Martin Drury and Jim Parker, the two assistant coaches. Drury is new, Parker has been with the Blades forever, and for Reyes, it’s his second season with the team. He’s a giant of a man, tall and wide-shouldered. He possesses a commanding presence one has to be born with, I guess. Can’t really teach that shit. Although, if you can, I’d like to take lessons.

Reyes is in his late thirties—the youngest head coach in the league by far. He’s sort of a prodigy. Joined the Maple Leafs at eighteen, played like the next coming of Gretzky and then retired at twenty-seven for seemingly no reason other than that he was done. There weren’t any reports of injuries or anything, he just seemed to have reached some kind of deadline he’d set for himself in his own head and was done.

We all clap and get up, and a half hour later, we’re on the ice.

It’s the first day of training camp, which means there’ll be pain.

First day means no pucks, no scrimmages, no line combinations. Just skating. And skating. And skating. Until you’ve got nothing left to give, your energy is completely spent, legs are heavy, and you’re mostly just thanking whoever is listening that it’s over because you go as hard as you can for as long as you can.

Fun times ahead.

I’m so fucking ready.

Kian knocks his fist against my helmet. “Here we go,” he says.

“First to puke buys dinner,” I say.

“You’re on.”

LAKE

I scrambleto get my phone out of the pocket of my jacket when it starts to ring. The paper bag with my dinner in it falls on the floor with a not-so-reassuring splat.

“Fuck,” I mutter while I try to both look at the damage and pick up the call.

“That’s definitely a greeting,” Ryker says with a laugh as his smiling face fills the screen. “But who am I to argue? Let’s do it.”

“I dropped my dinner.” I wrestle my jacket off and make my way to the kitchen, where I deposit the bag on the counter. A handful of fries have fallen out of the box and are now lying at the bottom of the bag. I pour them out on the counter and stuff a few in my mouth. I haven’t eaten since lunch, and it’s already well past nine o’clock.

“Are you eating floor fries?” my loving, supportive husband asks with the kind of exasperated sigh that would be grounds for divorce in some parts of the world. Also, on second thought, I’m not flattered by the insinuation that Iwouldeat floor fries, especially when I’m hungry enough right now to actually consider it.

“No,” I say indignantly, then stuff some more in my mouth while I go in search of something to drink. The fridge is gettingkind of bare after three days of no Ryker. I mean, sure, there’s broccoli and asparagus and turkey and stuff like that, but we’re getting real low on the kind of food you can just eat without having to cook. Hence the fries and the?—

“Is that a burger?” Ryker asks, and now there’s a wistful edge of longing in his voice.

“Yup.” I grab a plate and plonk the burger down on it, followed by the remainder of the fries. “What did you have for dinner?”

“You don’t want to know. There was brown rice involved.”

“That’s sad.” I eat another fry while I balance the phone against a stack of textbooks.

“I don’t know if you meant for it to sound compassionate, but I’m here to inform you it didn’t. Not one bit.”

“That’s too bad and totally on me.” I take a huge bite of the burger and just about manage to hold in a moan. Food. Finally.

I’m so hungry that it takes me a while to realize Ryker has gone silent. When I glance at the phone, I find him staring at me.

I swallow and take a drink. “What?”

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