Page 70 of Slapshot
When everyone arrives and the team starts getting ready, Lex and I manage a few quick glances. He stays focused on hockey and I treat him like any other player.
After last night’s loss, there’s a different air in the locker room. Serious and focused and ready for redemption in front of their home crowd.
As the team takes the ice for warm-ups, I help Kirk on the sidelines. His pads have become the headache that never ends.
“I’m going to order a different brand of leg pads for you to try. And let’s remeasure too and see if we can get a better fit.”
He nods. “Dad’s still here, huh?”
“What?”
He points with a gloved hand to the section next to the bench. Sure enough, there’s my dad. I wave awkwardly.
Kirk chuckles. “You didn’t know?”
I avoid answering that outright and instead say, “I’m sure he just wanted another chance to see the team play.”
“You might not have known, but Lex did. I saw the two of them outside looking chummy before the game. Heard he offered him a job, too.”
My voice wavers. “When did you see them together?”
“Today. An hour ago. Well, hey, if he’s handing out free jobs to anyone you’re fucking, mind if I tell him we’ve hooked up?”
I push his leg off my lap. “You wish.”
He shrugs. “Can’t blame me for trying. Kind of impressive, really. There’s no way he was getting any attention from your dad without you. Is the sex with Pretty Boy really that awesome that you’re okay with being used like that? NowIcould show you a good time.” He smiles and leans in closer.
I hold my breath. He’s vile—inside and out. I know this, but his words still sting.
“Shouldn’t you be in the net?” Paxton asks as he skates up. His jaw is set, and he glowers at Kirk.
Kirk hesitates, glancing between Pax and me before he takes a step back. He pulls his mask down over his face, but I can tell he’s still got that slimy smile aimed at me. “Offer’s good anytime.”
“Are you okay?” Pax asks.
“Fine.” My tone says the opposite, but Pax just nods.
“He’s a jerk. Whatever he said, brush it off.”
Easier said than done.
The loss last night was effective in getting the guys back focused and it’s like we’re playing against middle schoolers. They stand no chance. Lex has a great game, too, and I can tell it’s a weight off his shoulders to prove himself.
Dad texted to see if he could take me to dinner after the game. No mention of why he made another trip to Burlington. I’ve seen the man more in the past week than in the entire last year. I’m trying really hard not to be bitter about how much hockey has played a part in those visits.
Lex is waiting for me when I exit the arena. He pushes off the side of the building, his bag slung over his shoulder. “Hey.”
“Hey.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t talk to you earlier. Coach was pissed about yesterday. He put the fear of God in me.”
“It’s okay. I get it. Nice game tonight.”
“Thanks.” He smiles and takes my hand. My pulse quickens and my stomach dips. “I’m also sorry about the other night. I didn’t know what to say or do when your dad offered me the job.”
“You could have said no.”
Lex winces. “I froze. Turning him down immediately seemed rude. It was a nice offer and I’d make way more than working the tire shop. It felt like the least I could do was be appreciative and hear him out.”
