Page 1 of Whirlwind
1
Kit
Willa:
On our way.
Ugh.
The last thing I want to do after today is go to a party. I spent the day—my first day at my new job—cleaning up the mess left by the person who previously held the position. Data analysis isn’t for everyone, as is painfully obvious by the disaster this Mark made of every report I looked at today.
Every number on the defensemen was off. By a lot. He was either superbly unqualified, or showed up every day drunk off his ass, because I don’t know how any analyst could have messed it up that badly, otherwise.
I’m a statistician before I’m an analyst; that might be what has me so aggravated. I look deeper than I need to, in most cases. It’s a character trait, not one I see as a flaw. The Seattle Blades must not see it as one, either, since they hired me to clean this shit up and compile accurate information that will be helpful to the team.
The job was offered to me months ago. Initially, I declined.
The only family I have is a chosen one, not a blood relation. Meeting my best friend in college, Willa Cole, was life-changing for me.
Willa is fun, determined, smart, and passionate. We clicked instantly and never had anything that even resembled an argument. Truthfully, I don’t think either of us knows how to beangry at someone we care about. That isn’t something I learned from examples while growing up. If anything, I learned it despite my upbringing.
We became thick as thieves and the Coles embraced me like I was always one of their own.
They have deep ties to the Seattle Blades. Willa’s dad is the coach, her sister Isla works in fan development, Isla’s husband is the star player. And now, one of Willa’s partners plays for the team, too.
Working for the team felt like putting too many eggs in one basket, and that weight to carry would be too much. I don’t want to fracture the only good thing I have.
There isn’t a lot of data on the failure of business dealings when it’s with friends, specifically. But up to eighty percent of partnerships fail; and I can’t lose mine with the Coles. It’s not something I’d survive.
The Blades courted me heavily. Eventually, the sweetheart deal they offered was simply too much to pass up. Seattle is an expensive city to live in. When I came here to attend the University of Washington, I fell in love with the city. It’s different from Maine, where I’m from. But also, it’s the same, in some ways. There’s an appreciation here for nature, the ocean, and a hard day’s work. Despite its techy reputation.
Sometimes, I miss the small-town lifestyle. Then, I remember that small-town life never did me many favors. Seattle is where I belong. With the Coles, even if that means we tangle in a little business. I won’t fail them or this team.
There are only two things I love in life. My work, and the Cole family. Okay, that’s not entirely true. I love video games, my independence, and learning new stuff. My life is great, all things considered. But I know it wouldn’t be this great without the support my best friend and her family have given me here.
They even let me live with Willa in the condo her dad had purchased for his daughters to live in while they went to college. I offered to pay rent, but Coach would never allow that. It let me scurry away a small nest egg, which I have used alongside my newfound big girl salary to purchase my very own house. Now that Willa has moved in with her boyfriends, it feels weird living in the condo by myself. They’ve told me to stay as long as I want, but I quickly found a new place.
Because I love Willa so much, I will suck up my horrifically bad mood and accompany her and her two boyfriends to this party tonight without complaint. It’s a birthday party for the Blades’ goalie, Blom. I’ve met him a handful of times, on various occasions. He’s a fun guy, a little weird, but being so adjacent to hockey players these past couple of years, I’ve learned all goalies are a touch off.
I’ve searched for weird stats on them to appease my curiosity, but nothing exists outside of the normal numbers and injury studies. They’re the least likely to get injured, though their numbers jumped dramatically higher after the pandemic, whereas other positions didn’t.
I’d love to see further study on that because I find it a fascinating anomaly. One of the things I’m looking forward to most about this new position is that I’ll be able to put my eyes on these sorts of studies before they are pushed out to the public, since it all plays a part in player analysis. And, well, I’m a geek for that kind of thing.
The party is at a bar set up like a legitimate old-school speakeasy, and I’m dressed for the occasion in a frilly little cocktail dress. A hand-me-down from Willa. I’m not great at splurging on myself. Other than events with her, I don’t need anything fancy, anyway. My life is basic and I’m content stayingin, most nights. I prefer the quiet, usually. Low drama is what I’m all about.
My nights are often spent with takeout, eaten on my couch in front ofAliasreruns in my underwear. Not glammed up in shiny makeup and shinier clothes. Especially now that Willa is more occupied with a relationship. We used to go out more, not a lot, but more than I do now. I didn’t mind, as long as I got to spend time with her. I don’t mind she doesn’t have as much time for me now days, either. I’m thrilled she’s in love and happy. Zander and Damian treat her like a queen, and in my book, she is one.
Besides, just because I have no interest in men doesn’t mean she should have stayed single, too. I don’t need a friend to coddle me. I need one who understands what I want out of life and doesn’t push me to be something different. Willa has always been that for me.
Willa:
We’re here.
They arrive as I’m slipping into my shoes. I take a final look in the large mirror by my front door before heading out to the car. I look like a nerdy goth Barbie in my black lacy mini-dress, heeled booties, and black rimmed glasses that I can’t see far without these days, unless I have my contacts in, but I hate wearing those after a long day. I’ve even manipulated my dark strands into braids, à la Wednesday Addams.
I may not fit in well with the blonde legion of NHL wives at this party, but this is me.
Isla isn’t blonde, either. Nor is Odette, the wife of Gavin, a player who retired after last season but still works for the organization. We make jokes about all the other women being blonde or blonde-ish, but it’s just in jest. All the wives and girlfriends are nice.
