Page 40 of Slapshot
“You got out before he did. Or in case he did. Admit it, the only reason you hooked up with Snoozer, the boring lacrosse player, was because you wanted to force an out with Dylan?”
“His name is Snooder.” Emmett Snooder. A really unfortunate name. But Emmett more than makes up for it in other aspects. Aspects I was happy to capitalize on to find out for sure if Dylan truly cared about me or not. “And, I’m not admitting that because it isn’t true. I liked Dylan.”
“I know you did.” Vivian’s voice softens. A soft speaking Vivian is a scary thing. She’s all hard edges and tough love usually. “But you had one foot out the door the entire time. It was never going to work because you were always going to find a reason it couldn’t.”
She isn’t wrong. I knew early on when I started dating Dylan that he liked Chastity. Even when he told me repeatedly that they were just friends. I think I might have realized it before he did. I pushed and pushed until I pushed them together.
“Well, my intuition was right about him.” I wave toward Chastity’s bedroom on the opposite side of our joined dorm room.
“Truth be told, I’m glad to see you dating someone that sees how great you are. Dylan and Snoozer didn’t deserve you.”
“We’re not dating. It was a one-time… I mean, a three-time thing.”
“If you say so, but he’s pretty cute and aside from that whole fatal flaw of being a hockey player, Lex seems nice. Maybe he’s different.”
“He is nice.”
“And different?”
“Everyone seems different until they’re not.”
“Well, keep your eyes open then, but have fun. I’m on standby if we need to ruin his life.”
I chuckle. I’m not sure if Vivian’s serious or not, but I wouldn’t put anything past her.
* * *
During practices I hang by the sidelines and make the occasional equipment switch, refill water bottles, and basically anything else the team needs to keep practice running smoothly.
“Dalager,” Coach Keller calls out during Tuesday’s practice as I fix an edge on one of Tate’s skates.
“Yeah, Coach?”
“Get a pair of skates on and help me out here.” He turns back to the guys.
“Finished?” Tate asks. I’ve gone still with his skate still in my hand.
“Yeah, I think so. Let me know how it feels and I can take a look again after practice.”
I trudge to the locker room and grab the smallest skates we have. I carry them out to the bench with shaky hands. Do I even remember how to skate?
I do. I know I do. I went ice skating last winter in New York, but this is different. Coach has the guys line up for their usual shootout drill, but this time he has them divide up into two teams. I slide my feet into the stiff boots. I lace them up as tight as I can and stand. They’re a little big, but manageable.
When I step onto the ice, Coach Keller moves from his position at the blue line. “You stand here and make sure the next guy in line doesn’t go until the guy before him touches the boards.”
Coach Garfunkle is on the opposite end in charge of watching the same thing on the other side. Kirk and Josh are in the nets, and the Graham twins are first up in each of their respective teams.
Coach Keller lines up the five pucks for each team and then steps back with his whistle in hand. “Ready boys?”
Lex is on the team by me. In general, he does an impressive job of focusing on hockey during practices. Not that I’d expected him to suddenly be unable to focus on anything but me. I’ve never met a hockey player that cared about anything more than himself.
He glances up from the end of the line and smiles. For all my misgivings about getting involved with a hockey player, I don’t think Lex is using me. Not outright. He’s been sensitive to asking about my dad and I appreciate that more than he probably realizes. Who knows, maybe we can manage to have a good, sexy, fun fling. Last night was incredible and I’d like to do it again, but I meant what I said about not wanting the team to find out. I don’t want to give them any reason to further scrutinize my actions.
When the whistle’s blown, Patrick and Paxton skate hard to the pucks. Excited energy vibrates around the arena as the guys cheer on their teams. And in that excitement, I completely forget that hockey was ever not a part of my life or that I’ve hated it for years. I’m wrapped up in it just as much as them and equally disappointed when it’s the other team who wins.
I’m in the equipment room after practice when Lex fills the doorway, still in his gear.
“Hey.” I have the different blades for him to test. “Ready?”
