Page 27 of The Trade Deadline
“Wait, I’m confused.” Tanner looked back to the TV screen. “If you two aren’t rekindling an old fling, then what the fuck was all that?”
“Uhhh…nothing?” Admittedly, there wassomethinggoing on. He didn’t understand it, but Lars had latched onto him in a way he hadn’t with anyone else on the team. Despite the unfortunate Juniors incident (non-incident?), Ryan did like talking to Lars. But he was fairly certain there was nothing romantic or sexual going on. He’d seen Lars in action, and knew he was forward when he was into someone. Even if he’d learned to be discreet, the energy was wrong.
“Nothing?” Tanner asked skeptically.
“I think he needs a friend,” Ryan said. “He’s new to the team and that hasn’t happened to him in seven years. We’re the same age, we play the same position, and I happened to be there the first time he met anyone on the team.”
“So he imprinted on you and you’re the one stuck with the awkward sorta-ex wanting to be your bestie?”
“It’s not that awkward.” Saying it out loud, he realized it was true. Ithadbeen weird and uncomfortable, but Ryan hadn’t felt that around Lars in a while. “It’s kinda nice, actually. Like…” He struggled to pin it down, knowing Tanner would wait while he figured it out. “No one else on any team I’ve played with has ever taken an interest inme. Like, as a person. It’s not like they exclude me or are rude or anything, but they are specifically interested in hanging out because we’re teammates. Once I leave, we’ll talk when we play against each other, but the connection is hockey.”
“But Lars sees you,” Tanner said knowingly. “And he likes you.”
For now. Maybe once they got into the regular season, Lars would see him framed by hockey like everyone else.
Ryan grabbed his beer from the coffee table and drank it aggressively so he wouldn’t have to answer.
“It’ll be good for you to have someone you don’t have to perform for,” Tanner said. He switched the TV back to his Xbox. “Wanna play Fortnite? I ordered from that burger place you like.”
He hated when Tanner did that. Said something insightful that shook up Ryan’s bullshit, then let it go just as easily as Ryan could choose whether or not he cared to deal with it. Normally he opted not to, but the information would sit in the back of his head for months, begging for acknowledgement.
“Sure. I don’t have practice tomorrow. I can play for a bit.”
Tanner was already loading the game. “No practice? You should text Lars and hang out.”
“I’m not doing that.”
“Okay, but you should. You could invite him over here and we could play. Do you think he smokes weed?”
“I have no idea. And no way. I can’t bring him around you when you’re high.”
“I could be not-high.”
“Could you, though?”
Tanner made a face. “Yeah, good call. Turn on the controller, Player Two.”
Chapter9
Lars
It wasthe fifth game into the regular season and Lars still hadn’t scored. Counting his two preseason games, that was seven games in a row without a goal. Lars hadn’t had a dry spell this long since…ever? He didn’t like it.
It wasn’t for lack of trying. He was playing pretty well if he said so himself. Ten assists said he was definitely out there pulling his weight, and he’d shot on goal enough that he was beginning to think someone in Portland had cursed him.
“Just bad luck,” Coach Thompkins said grimly when Lars took a shot that was blocked up front. It’d still trickled through and gotten all the way to the goal line before it’d stopped dead. It’d just sat there, taunting Lars until the goalie casually covered it like he had all the time in the world. Not like Lars was an elite goal scorer or anything.
Given current evidence, maybe I’m not.
They were in Toronto, which was always a hard matchup for Lars. It was his dad’s team, and he hated playing in their arena where his dad’s number was hanging in the rafters. It also meant Mormor wouldn’t be watching. The banner hung behind the Canadian and American flags, so he was more or less forced to stare at his dad’s legacy at the start of every game. It was unfair to compare the careers of people playing in different eras, especially when one had died young, but any time people did feel like comparing Lars to his father, it always ended with questions about what his dad would think about his youngest being a forward instead of a defenseman like him. Anders, though. Mats obviously would’ve been proud of good ol’ Anders.
It was a lot of baggage to deal with in a single game, only made worse by his lack of production.
He stewed in his frustration for a whole period before he let it go. He’d had dry spells before, and he never let it slow him down. There were bound to be growing pains starting with a new line on a new team in a new division in a new conference. People did it all the time, and he hadn’t given them enough credit before.
Ryan scored in the third, a beautiful backhand after he forced a turnover as Toronto tried to clear it. The whole team whooped and whistled in appreciation—the late tally putting them a comfortable three goals over the Terrors—and were equally vocal about it in the locker room.
“Three goals,” Jake said with a crooked smile as he patted Ryan on the head. “That makes you goal leader so far. Beating Nilsy. First time in your careers, right?”
