Page 120 of The Trade Deadline
Anders made a dismissive gesture. “He’s not by nature this angry. He’s only like this when he’s stressed. The Prowlers thing stressed him out.Istress him out.” He gave Ryan a hard look. “Youstress him out.”
“I don’t?—”
“You do right now,” Anders said. “It’s not your fault. The trade.” He shrugged. “Lasse isn’t his best right now.”
Ryan considered this. There definitely was the Lars he knew in private, in practice, even in public. He was sweet and easygoing and quick to smile or tell a joke. And there was definitely a different Lars—a grumpier, angrier, more intense version—who only showed up when the Prowlers or Anders were there.
…and in the car earlier with Ryan. After a month of dealing first with Ryan’s trade, outing himself on national television, and playing against his brother for a third game after being forced together at the All Star Game. It was admittedly a lot for one person to deal with in such a short span of time. It wasn’t enough to excuse his behavior, but it definitely put it more into perspective.
“Do you think he’s going to get in trouble with Player Safety?” It wouldn’t be career-ruining, but Ryan knew the Crabs were hurting for standings points. If they lost Lars for a few games, they might not make the playoffs. They were barely holding onto a Wild Card spot as it was.
Anders rolled his eyes. “They will talk to him, but they won’t do anything.” He seemed to take in Ryan’s worried skepticism and added, “He’s one of three openly gay players in the NHL who just came out a few weeks ago under difficult circumstances that make the league look bad. He’s never injured someone beforeandit was me. He’ll get a slap on the wrist.” A pause as he considered. “Amanda won’t be happy with us, either. I should call home.”
He got up abruptly, phone in hand, and disappeared to a quieter spot, leaving Ryan to wonder what exactly he should do about Lars.
* * *
i’m sorry i almost punched you
i wasn’t thinking
and i shouldn’t have said that stuff in the car
forget about it
actually no don’t forget about it
i know it’s been A Lot lately but you can’t do that shit. you need to apologize to your family
i did. i talked to mormor and amanda and to the kids
…seriously? you haven’t talked to your brother?
i apologized on the ice.
great but that was before you found out his nose was broken
you used to have my back
i do have your back
i don’t remember ever saying “yeah go attack anders for sure that’s a good idea”
he’s your brother, even if you don’t get along
he’s missed three games so far. three games we’ve lost. we’re fighting for first in the metro, we have playoffs coming up. we need him back
“we”
“we” meant something different a month ago.
Ryan growled in frustration and threw his phone across his bed. The way-too-big, way-too-empty bed he’d splurged on when he’d moved to Cincinnati. The cost of living in Ohio was a lot more manageable than it had been in Maryland, and maybe he’d thought a nicer bed might come in handy if someone visited.
Fat chance of that.
He had no idea why this bothered him so much. They were fuck buddies and friends. Lars’s family was none of his business, even if he worked with Anders. Anders didn’t even seem bothered by it, traveling with the team and practicing with them wearing a bubble on his helmet that made it look like he was a ginormous college student. If anything, he was amused by the whole situation.
“This isn’t even the worst Lars has done to me,” he confided to the media. “Once, when he was eight, he chipped one of my teeth.” He opened his mouth and pointed to one, then winced as the effort no doubt hurt his nose. “He took a slapshot and it went right into my mouth. Can you imagine? Eight years old and already causing problems.”
