Page 85 of You Had Me at Hockey

We eventually arrive at our stop in the West Village and she leads me around the corner to a place called the Fine Fox. It appears to be a tiny place, but as we enter, the space stretches out on either side of the entrance and far back. Low lights illuminate green pool tables, ping-pong tables, and…is that shuffleboard? Holy shit, I haven’t played shuffleboard since I lived in Swift Current.

We’re shown to a few small couches grouped around a low table near the pool tables. To our right, a stage has musicians setting up to play. I guess the others aren’t here yet.

“Please tell me we’re going to play shuffleboard,” I say as we remove our jackets.

She grins. “I was thinking ping-pong, actually. But we can do both.”

We settle in on one of the velvet couches and pick up menus. There isn’t a huge food selection here. We order beers while we’re waiting.

“Did you practice today?” she asks.

“We watched video.” I grimace.

“Was it bad? I thought you played great.”

She always thinks I play great. “Made a few mistakes. Coach actually called me into his office after, to talk about it.”

“Oh. Like being called to the principal’s office.”

One corner of my mouth hooks up. “Yeah. Sort of.”

“Were you in trouble?”

I sigh. “Just something to work on. Uh, I need to communicate better with…the power play unit.”

She purses her lips and nods. “Okay. Sounds like something you can work on.”

“Yeah.” I swallow my sigh.

The other two couples arrive then, and we stand for hugs and handshakes. I paste a smile on.

Everyone settles in, they order their drinks, and the music starts. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but it’s a jazz band and they’re pretty good. We’re far enough from the stage that we can still talk.

“I freakin’ loved that podcast you did with Sara,” Kamal says to me, his grin creasing up his dark brown skin. “You two were hilarious.”

“Thanks. I had fun doing it. I had no idea what to expect.”

“You didn’t know Sara at all before that? Hadn’t watched her videos?” Sunny asks.

“Nope. No idea.”

“Wow. The chemistry between you was smoking.”

“Wait till you see the video,” Sara puts in. “Josh taught me how to skate.”

We order a bunch of food—spicy shrimp chips, fried fish skins, crostini with ricotta and saba (I don’t know what that is), a gouda fondue with pretzels, and some spiced-up nuts and popcorn.

Kamal turns out to be a hockey fan, so he talks to me about how the Bears are doing and the new coach. I have to be careful what I say—but luckily I’m enjoying playing for Coach Shipton so far. Other than his lecture earlier about Easton.

“Do players get any say in who they hire as a coach?” he asks.

“Nope.” I take a gulp of beer. “Not at all. Those are business decisions.”

“I was glad they canned Simmons,” he says. “Everyone knew he was a homophobic racist.”

I grimace. “Sounds like it,” I say. “Although actually, he quit.”

Kamal narrows his eyes at me. “You didn’t think he should be fired?”

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