Page 7 of Pipe Dreams
“Justin hugged Hans good-bye at the subway entrance, and these kids started calling them names. You know. Theotherf word.”
Jesus. While his daughter loved to test him by cursing, she knew never to use a slur against someone else. Unfortunately she was learning that others had no problem doing so. “Did you get the sense that you were unsafe?” It made him feel like a heel to ask, but his daughter’s safety was his first concern.
“No,” she said quickly. “There were like a million people around. And these guys just did a flyby. Like, they weren’t brave enough to get in Justin’s face and say it.”
“Okay,” he said slowly. It must not have been a big deal,because Hans would have told him if things had gotten scary. It was probably just the same bullshit he dealt with all the time.
Hell. What did a wise father say in this situation? He went with: “I’m sure sorry that Hans has to put up with that shit.”
“Me, too. He was embarrassed.”
“It’s more embarrassing to be those jerks who said it though, right?”
“Ignorant assholes,” Elsa agreed.
“Yeah.” He let the cursing go. Again. “Do you want me to mention it to Hans?”
“No! It’s not a big deal. I told you because I feel bad for him, that’s all. There will always be somebody who picks on him. It’s like being the new kid forever.”
“Are you getting picked on for being the new kid?”
“Not really. It’s just...” She trailed off. “I don’t know all the jokes, you know?”
“Sure,” he said, although he didn’t really.
“Can we get pizza for dinner?”
“Okay.”
They drove in silence for a moment, and Elsa went back to poking at her phone. “Are you going to win tomorrow night?” she asked suddenly.
“Maybe,” he hedged. “Does Snapchat need to know?” The phone was her means of communication with all the friends she’d left behind on the island.
“Yup,” she chirped. “Also, I need to call my bookie.”
“Elsa!”
She laughed, and it sounded like music.
•••
As it happened, they did win that first game in D.C.
He hoped Elsa’s Snapchat pals appreciated it, because the game was brutal. He was practically standing on his head to block shots after his team drew back-to-back penalties. Forty-eight hours after that, the second game endedin a disappointing loss. Beacon had held the other team to a single goal all night long, but then they snuck one past his shoulder ten minutes into the second overtime period.
“You tried, Daddy,” Elsa said comfortingly into his ear.
“Indeed.” He was sitting in the locker room, still sweat-covered. But it was late and he needed to talk to Elsa or she wouldn’t go to sleep.
“And it’s not over yet. Friday you’ll have home ice advantage.”
He sighed into his phone. “True. But right now I’m so tired I can’t even feel my face. Hit the hay, okay? It must be late.”
“Will you pick me up from school tomorrow?”
“I think so. I’ll sure try. Let me have Hans for a minute?”
“Hans!” his daughter yodeled. “Night, Dad.”
