Page 35 of Slapshot
“An answer for an article of clothing?”
I nod and she steps forward and takes the beer from me.
“I’d want to fly.”
“Fly?” I can’t help but chuckle at a response I wasn’t expecting. “No laser beam eyes to destroy your enemies?”
“Less effort and not as messy to just fly far away.”
I open the beer and take a drink before setting it on the desk and pull off my sweatshirt, then run a hand through my hair as I toss the balled-up fabric at her.
She easily catches it. “If I ask you a question, do I have to take something off?”
“Up to you.”
“Hmm.”
“I’ll give you a freebie.” Moving to the bed, I sit and motion with my head for her to do the same. “I’d choose telepathy. Imagine how straightforward everything would be if we all knew exactly what other people were thinking.”
“I guess so.”
We sit knee to knee. She unravels the black scarf around her neck and drops it to the floor.
“Do you still play hockey at all?”
“Not in years. I’ve done my best to avoid it since I was a kid.”
“Then why take a job as a hockey team’s equipment manager?” The question is out as soon as I’ve thought it.
She waves for me to take something off, which I do—a boot.
“I needed a job, and it was that or changing diapers in the childhood education center. I took a chance that cleaning up your shit would be easier than the other.”
“What’s your dad think?”
Her eyes fall to her lap and I regret bringing him up. I wonder about him though and what it was like for her growing up as his daughter. What it’s like now. But it really is just her I’m trying to understand.
“I haven’t told him.”
“So you’re not close then?”
“It’s complicated.”
“I’m a pretty smart dude.”
“We’re different. He’s never understood me or even tried to. We haven’t been that close since I was little. He sent me to boarding school the first chance he got.” I can see the pain on her face as she says it.
I go for a lighter question next. “Boarding school? What was that like?”
“Pretty cool. People didn’t treat me weird there. My dad was chump change. There was a girl on my floor who was an actual princess.”
“People treated you weird before?”
“They treated me like the guys on the team do. You all see me, but you don’t really see me at all. I’m not Kaitlyn, I’m Declan Dalager’s daughter. And as soon as people realize I’m not their magic in with him, they lose interest in me.”
“That’s not true. At least not for me.”
She shrugs out of her coat. “What are your parents like?”
