Page 10 of Secret Puck
“Meeting adjourned then, eh?” Mav says and then looks to me. “I’m gonna need a copy of the minutes on my desk by end of business.”
“I’m right on top of that, sir,” I say and give him the middle finger.
“What the hell are we going to do tonight?” Mav looks seriously defeated as he runs a hand through his dark hair.
“Halo?” Rauthruss lifts an Xbox controller.
“Why the fuck not.” He pets Charli and grabs the controller with the other hand.
I get up and take a step toward my room. “I’m going to shower and touch base with myself.”
Mav cackles. “Not as good as circling back, but good wordplay. Mariah or Ariana for inspiration music?”
“It’s definitely a Mariah kind of day,” I decide.
Mav hums as I walk by. “‘Santa Baby’ or ‘Heartbreaker’?”
I shake my head. “‘Fantasy.’ Always ‘Fantasy.’”
Later,I close my door so I can hear Nathan on the phone over the noise in the living room. A few guys have already made it over. I hope Scott’s right, and this is what we need. He might be a pain in the ass, but he’s not wrong about us needing to play better together. It’s his last year, so I get the extra pressure to make it the best before he’s done.
He’s not interested in playing professionally, so this really is it for him.
“How does it feel to be back?”
“Not as good as it would feel to be practicing with the Coyotes right now,” I say as I take a seat at my desk.
He snickers. “Soon enough.”
“Eh,” I grunt. I’ve never been much for living in the future. Even now that it’s set. I signed with Arizona’s professional team over the summer. Three more years at Valley and then I’ll get paid to play hockey. It still hasn’t really sunk in. “How’s everything in Florida?”
“Good. Busy. Between the team and all the wedding plans, it’s gotten nuts. Did you get the save the date?”
“I did.” I pick up the thick paper invitation on my desk. “June, huh? You really think you can continue to not screw this up for another ten months?”
“God, I hope so. I don’t know what I’ll do if she wises up before then,” he says in a teasing voice. I can hear his fiancée Chloe in the background taunting him back but can’t make out her words.
“Tell her I said hey and thanks for the giant box of stuff. This one’s got Chloe written all over it. A gift card to The Olive Garden?”
Nathan speaks away from the phone, “Busted. Totally called you out on The Olive Garden gift card.”
“Take a nice girl to dinner,” Chloe yells.
“You hear that?” my brother asks.
“Yeah, I got it.”
They’ve been sending me packages every month since my freshman year. Each one is different and contains shit ranging from razors, body wash, homemade oatmeal raisin cookies (my favorite), to new clothes and cologne. And then there’s the gift cards. Each month, a hundred dollars or more from random places.
Since I refuse to take money outright from Nathan, they find creative ways to be generous. I don’t really need it. I have a full-ride scholarship for hockey and a part-time job that helps with anything else. But that’s Nathan, always trying to take care of me.
“All right, well I won’t keep you. Chloe and I are headed to the beach. Stay out of trouble.”
I groan and tilt my head back.
With a chuckle, Nathan says, “I’m proud of you, but what kind of big bro would I be if I didn’t remind you not to screw up? You’ve got more than ever on the line.”
“Oh, I don’t know, the cool kind maybe?”
