Page 40 of Gross Misconduct

“I can’t help thinking about this hockey matchup,” Leo says. “We have a professional hockey player and his young guns on one team. And then we have the Wolf Pack on another.”

The Wolf Pack was the nickname for our high school hockey team when we were playing. We were a force to be reckoned with, leading the school to back-to-back championships.

“You guys were legends in this town. And now you’re back together, the original lineup. It’s quite something.” Wheels turn behind Leo’s eyes, but I don't have time to decipher that look. I have bigger things on my mind.

“I need to prank Jack back. Hard,” I say. “Show him that I won’t give in.”

“Dude, I don’t have the time or energy for another prank. Why don’t we focus on the games? We’re not playing the Blades for a few weeks anyway,” Derek says. He knocks at my skull. “Get this guy out of your head.”

Easier fucking said than done.

“Yeah, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you have a crush,” Leo says.

I feel my entire face turn red. Before I can respond to that accusation, the moderator takes to the podium and Hank shushes us.

“Let’s go, Huskies!” Hank cheers. “Let’s go Brody!”

“Can you be quiet?” A fellow dad a row in front of us sneers.

Hank gets right in his face. “Hey pal, you wanna take this outside?”

13

JACK

After sending over fifty resumes to crickets, I finally get a bite to be the office manager for the private airport outside of town. It’s located down a windy, wooded road that leads to a big, open airfield. The contrast is startling.

Fuentes pulls into the parking lot. From the passenger seat, I watch single engine planes and small private jets line up to take off. Students at the flight attendant school attached to the airport flutter about outside in their uniforms, the men’s pants especially fitted to their buttocks. I could get used to both of those views.

“You’re going to do great,” Fuentes says, giving me a supportive punch on the thigh. “Don’t speak too fast. Don’t trail off. Give them some of that big-swinging-dick charm of yours.”

I don’t know much about the job I’m interviewing for. I think I have to stock office supplies and the company fridge. They didn’t require a college degree, though, and they provide full benefits.Take the interview, Fuentes and Miller told me in no uncertain terms.

I’ll learn as I go. Practice makes perfect, in hockey and in life.

“Are you okay with taking an Uber home?” he asks. “I have to let in the HVAC guy to one of my buildings.”

“Yeah.” I shake out my hands. I’ve played hockey in front of tens of thousands of fans, broadcast live on TV. I didn’t get nervous like I am now. I feel like an impostor in this suit, in this life.

Fuentes gives me a supportive smile and makes a fist in solidarity.

“Thank you for driving me. For being my fucking chauffeur. And for the apartment. I hit the friend jackpot with you.”

Ever since we played hockey as kids, there was never any competition between us, no double-crossing to be coach’s favorite. As my hockey career was taking off and getting more attention from scouts, Fuentes didn’t act jealous. He was excited for me. I’ve made a lot of mistakes in life, done a lot of dumb shit. Somehow, I lucked out with Fuentes.

“I was a shit student in high school. Even my teachers didn’t think I’d amount to anything. You remember what you always said to me?” Fuentes asks.

A nostalgic smile hits my lips. “You’re destined for great things.”

Fuentes nods. “You believed in me. Just hearing that made me think my crazy ideas could work. When someone keeps telling you that you’re destined for success over and over, it starts to sink in.

“And when you first got drafted, you remember what you did? You rented a limo and threw me an epic eighteenth birthday party. We cruised around New York City with fake IDs like we were the kings of Manhattan. None of us had to take out our wallets once.”

We got into this bar that we heard professional athletes frequented and did shots with a bunch of basketball players. We strolled down the High Line at dawn eating hot dogs, beaming with that kind of invincibility and optimism that comes with being on the cusp of adulthood.

“You’re a real one, Jack. And real ones look out for each other.” Fuentes gives me a fist bump. “I know you’re having a hard time, but you’re destined for great things.”

“Like being the office manager for a private airport?”

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