Page 82 of Zero Pucks Given
A few players I recognized from the other night were drinking beers at the bar while waiting for the bus to leave. “Hey, shake it off you guys,” I said to them. “It’s just one game, and the next two are at the Frost Bank Center, where us fans will have your back!”
They glanced at me, but didn’t say anything. I couldn’t blame them for not being as friendly after a loss, but it still stung a little.
I ordered a beer at the bar. The post-game coverage was on the TV above the bar, and I ignored it while waiting for Grayson to get back.
Until his face appeared on the screen. He was giving an interview to the room of reporters.
“They had our number tonight,” he was saying. His hair was damp from the shower, and he wore a permanent scowl. “We had theirs in the first game. That’s just how it goes sometimes. All we can do is review the game tape, shake off this loss, and come back strong in game three.”
He looked like he was in a terrible mood, so I finished my beer and shot him a text.
Me: Sorry about the loss. I saw your interview on TV. I hope I wasn’t a distraction.
Grayson: Not your fault, Josie. We just played like shit. Everyone was off tonight.
Me: I’m gonna stay up for a while, so text me if you want to say goodbye before jumping on your flight.
Grayson: Not heading back to the hotel. The team bus is taking some of us straight to the airport. That’s the problem with being the team captain: I have to stay aftergames and talk to reporters.
Grayson: I’m sorry you had to witness such a bad loss, but I’m glad you were there.
Me: Hey, I don’t mind watching a loss. I don’t even like hockey, remember?
Grayson: Haha.
Grayson: Have a safe flight tomorrow. Text me when you’re home safe. I know you said you’re working the Spurs game tomorrow night, but maybe you can come over after.
Me: I was hoping you would say that. I can make you forget all about this loss.
Grayson: I was hoping YOU would say that :-)
I ran into Bob Trent by the elevators on the way up to my room. He looked exhausted and stressed out.
“Thanks for cooperating on the last few events,” he told me. “I’ll send you a formal debriefing, but you’ve officially fulfilled the requirements in your contract. You’re finally free.”
“Finally,” I said, though I didn’t mean it.
“I bet you’re happy to never have to see Grayson Steele again.”
I shrugged. “I still have to see him every time I work a game at the Frost Bank Center. But he’s not as bad as I thought.”
“Easy for you to say. You don’t have to bully him into going to publicity events once a month.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Best of luck with your TikTok channel, Ms. Harper.”
“Good luck with the rest of the playoffs,” I replied.
The hotel was eerily empty when I left for the airport the nextmorning, like the team had never even been there. It filled me with a strange sense of sadness. I knew my mood would improve once I was home. Getting back into my routine would help.
Plus seeing Grayson a lot more frequently, without the need to sneak around a busy hotel.
Most of the fans that had traveled for the game were on my flight, judging by all the people wearing Surge jerseys at our gate. I couldn’t imagine being that devoted to a team, to travel to another country for a playoff game. Especially since the team was only a year old.
But I was beginning to understand the appeal of the sport I used to hate. It was a lot more physical than I previously thought, the players constantly battling it out with shoves, slams, and punches. The sport was also more complicated than I assumed; so much strategy went into it beyond just shooting the puck at the goal.
I still hated working in the freezing-cold arena, though.
I was sitting in First Class again for the return flight. As soon as we were in the air, I ordered a mimosa. It reminded me of having brunch with Grayson, and filled me with a giggly sense of joy.
The man sitting next to me kept looking at me. At first, I thought he was judging me for drinking alcohol this early in the morning.
