Page 101 of Facing Off
Jesse is already there with his dad. They share the same cropped hair, though his dad’s is gray. He also has dug-in wrinkles around his stern eyes and a whistle always ready to go. In the town we live in, I’ve heard people call him a helicopter parent more than a few times.
But Jesse never complains.
Maybe he looks at my life and sees that I have no idea if my dad looks like me because I’ve never met him. And that the only reason I’m any good at hockey is because Jesse’s dad has paid for all my gear and made sure every minor league his kid joined, I also joined, quietly paying for my fees.
I have a feeling it’s because while Jesse’s not my only friend, I’m his only friend. He doesn’t like to socialize with anyone else and his dad knows that.
But whatever the reason, I’m fucking grateful.
They wave at me now, gesturing for me to hurry.
I run over and get dressed, and then the drills start. Jesse’s dad shouts the instructions. We practice passing, chasing the puck, skating the inside edge, the outside edge, making tight turns, puck protection, and pivoting. Then repeat all that, but this time, faster and working to keep our heads up.
Two hours later, our clothes stick to our skin. And it’s a matchup between me and Jesse to see who scores first.
Jesse wins.
His dad blows the whistle. His eyes gleam with pride as he nods at his son. “Way to go.” Then he nods at me. “Keep working at it, Adrian. You have so much potential.”
With that, he goes to gather the orange cones scattered around the rink.
Jesse hands me a water bottle. Our helmets are off. “One day, you’ll get me, dude.”
“Naw.” I grin. “You’re good enough to go pro. Me? I’malright.”
Jesse chucks his water bottle at me. “Better than that, man.”
I catch it. “Just remember us commoners when you make it.”
We toss the bottle back and forth slowly at first, and then start whipping it at each other and laughing. In the distance, Jesse’s dad rolls his eyes.
Sitting down on the snow afterwards, I start unlacing my skates. “I mean it, don’t forget me when you’re famous.”
Jesse snorts. “Relax, as soon as I’m drafted, I’m telling them to draft you, too.”
“Don’t think it works like that, bro.”
“It does if you’re the greatest hockey player.” He stays standing as if he’s not quite ready to take his skates off. “I’m going to be the best. And then the league will have to listen to me. Especially when I win for Canada in front of the world.”
My eyebrows shoot up as I grin. “Thewholeworld?”
“Shut up.”
“Didn’t think thewholeworld cared.”
He picks up a hockey stick, ready to bop me with it. But I’m fast so I’m diving for my own and then?—
His dad yells that we’re going to be late for school.
Twenty minutes later, we’re in the back of a sedan. Jesse’s parents are driving us to school.
Jesse turns toward me. “You think I’m kidding, but I’m not. I’m going to be Team Canada’s captain and score the game winning goal with two seconds until the buzzer hits, and the crowd’s going to lose their shit, and then this”—he glances at his parents, who are too busy talking to each other—“this hot chick’s going to fall for me and we’re going to have a fancy ass wedding on an island?—”
“And have ten kids?Bo-ring.” I glance and confirm his parents aren’t listening, but still lower my voice. “If I make it, I’m going to have a group of hot chicks into me.”
“And?” asks Jesse.
“What else, man? That’s all that matters.” I smirk. “Me getting laid.”
