Greer: When are you available?
Stevie: Who is this?
Greer: Your favorite person on the entire planet.
Stevie: Greer?
Greer: I knew you liked me.
Stevie: I really, really don’t.
Greer: Keep telling yourself that, Steve.
Stevie: Stevie. S-T-E-V-I-E! It’s not that hard.
Stevie: Again, what do you want?
Greer: To set a date.
Stevie: We already did.
Greer: Not OUR date. I mean a date for the first training session.
Greer: I am flattered that you’re so excited about our date. Can’t stop thinking about it, huh?
Stevie: Can’t stop thinking about what I’m sure is going to be the most embarrassing moment of my life? Yes.
Greer: You think telling people you’re dating me is embarrassing?
Stevie: Yes.
Stevie: Now stop being annoying and just get to the point of the conversation.
Greer: Ooooh. Someone’s testy.
Greer: I kind of like seeing you get all worked up, especially over me.
Stevie: Greer…
Greer: Fine.
Greer: We have practice tomorrow morning. If you two want to come and check things out, we can do a trial run after.
Stevie: A trial run? I thought this was part of the agreement. You teach Macie, and I’ll be your date.
Stevie: No trial runs.
Greer: What if we aren’t compatible? What if she bites me?
Stevie: She’s ten. She’s not going to bite you.
Greer: I was a ten-year-old biter.
Stevie: Why does that not surprise me?
Stevie: She won’t bite you. I promise.
Greer: I’m not so sure I believe you. You don’t even like me. You probably want me to be bitten.
Stevie: I never said I didn’t like you.
Greer: Yes, you did. Multiple times even.
Stevie: Fine, I don’t like you.
Stevie: But I’m not lying. She won’t bite you. She hasn’t bitten anyone in like six months or something.
Greer: Wow. I am SO glad I get to test out her biting sobriety like this.
Stevie: To be fair, that kid bit her first.
Greer: Your daughter sounds scary.
Stevie: She can be.
Stevie: But she won’t bite you.
Greer: Promises, promises.
Stevie: How much time do I need to block out?
Greer: At least two hours.
Stevie: Wait—are we watching you practice too?
Greer: Yes.
Stevie: Why?
Greer: It might be good for her to see a professional practice before getting on the ice.
Stevie: Oh. That makes sense.
Greer: We good, then?
Stevie: Just one more thing…
Stevie: How’d you get this number?
Greer: I have my ways.
Stevie: Miller?
Greer: Maybe.
Greer: Why?
Stevie: Just needed to know how big I should dig the grave.
Greer: Your daughter scares me, but you scare me more.
Stevie: Good.
Stevie: What kind of equipment should I bring?
Greer: Well, skates are a must.
Stevie: Anything else?
Greer: No. We’ll start with just skates. We have some sticks and pucks she can play around with at the practice rink.
Greer: I really just want to get a feel for where she’s at.
Stevie: She’s at zero.
Greer: Meaning?
Stevie: She’s, uh, never played before.
Greer: At all?
Stevie: No.
Stevie: Well, she’s played on rollerblades, but not on the ice.
Greer: Oh god.
Stevie: Surprise?
Greer: Yeah, big surprise.
Greer: This is going to be a lot of work.
Stevie: She’s willing to learn.
Stevie: She’s been practicing since yesterday.
Stevie: I also got called into the principal’s office yesterday because she got into a shoving match with some boy who didn’t believe she’s going to be training with you.
Stevie: “Great, Mom! My first trip to the sin bin! Goalies don’t go to the sin bin!”
Stevie: That’s what she told me yesterday.
Greer: She’s right. Someone else takes the brunt of the punishment for us.
Greer: Trust me, though, it feels just as bad as sitting in there yourself.
Stevie: Goalies don’t get in trouble?
Greer: Oh, we do.
Greer: There are some meathead goalies out there. They do some stupid shit.
Greer: We take penalties but don’t have to serve them. Someone who was on the ice when we took the penalty does, so not only is your coach pissed at you, your teammates are too. It sucks.
Stevie: Have you ever been in trouble?
Greer: Plenty of times.
Stevie: What for?
Greer: Tripping. Slashing. Roughing on that fucker Colter. Even got me a game misconduct once when I first started in the league.
Greer: Not yet been in a goalie fight, though it’s on my bucket list.
Stevie: Hockey players are so weird.
Greer: And goalies are even weirder. We’re a different breed.
Stevie: And to think my kid wants to be one.
Greer: She’s got the fire, that’s for sure.
Greer: Just bring the skates. I’ll take care of the rest.
Stevie: Aye, aye, captain.
Greer: I CAN’T HEAR YOU!
Stevie: What?
Greer: Oh. I thought we were doing a SpongeBob thing. Never mind.
Stevie: Ooooooooh.
Greer: WHO LIVES IN A PINEAPPLE UNDER THE SEA?
Stevie: We’re still not doing it.
Greer: Right.
Greer: See you tomorrow.
Stevie: Unfortunately.
Stevie: What time should we be there?
Greer: You have got to be kidding me.
Stevie: What?
Greer: It’s 5 fucking AM.
Stevie: It’s 5:15, thank you.
Stevie: And good morning.
Stevie: What time should we be there?
Greer: Are you always up this early?
Stevie: Pretty much. Sometimes when I’m feeling feisty, I sleep in until 5:30, but that’s a rarity.
Greer: I hate you.
Stevie: Hey, that’s my line!
Stevie: So…time?
Greer: 9 AM.
Greer: I’ll need a little bit afterward, but I’ll meet you on the ice within fifteen minutes.
Stevie: Gotta see your groupies first?
Greer: Puck bunnies.
Stevie: What about bunnies?
Greer: That’s what hockey groupies are called. Puck bunnies.
Stevie: Oh. They sound so cute.
Greer: They really aren’t.
Stevie: Uh-oh. Bad experience?
Greer: Hell no. I’m not stupid enough to get swept up in that shitstorm. I’ve had some clingers though, and that was terrible enough.
Stevie: Ah, that’s right. You’re anti-love.
Greer: Who said I was anti-love?
Stevie: You did. And I quote, “It’s a crock of shit.” I don’t even know what a crock means, but that’s what you said.
Greer: It’s really too early for this.
Stevie: Go back to sleep, your highness.
Greer: Highness? What am I, a king?
Stevie: Just of hell.
Greer: Now, Steve, don’t go getting all sweet on me. I’ll start thinking you like me or something.
Stevie: That’ll never happen.
Stevie: And for the millionth time, it’s STEVIE.
Greer: Until you start being nicer to me, it’s Steve.
Stevie: That’s mean.
Greer: And so are you, so I guess we’re even.
Stevie: I’m rolling my eyes really hard at the grown man I’ve seen be a dick numerous times calling me mean.
Greer: You started it.
Stevie: Are you five?
Greer: No. You just bring out the worst in me.
Stevie: Lovely.
Stevie: Go back to sleep, Greer. I need you rested so you can teach my kid.
Greer: I’m already awake now. Might as well start my day.
Stevie: You’re welcome. And who knows, maybe you’ll like getting up early. It’s refreshing to start your day early.
Greer: Not when it’s still dark outside, it’s not.
Stevie: You’re awfully dramatic.
Greer: You’ll get used to it.
Stevie: Oh, I have. Hello, ten-year-old daughter, remember?
Greer: She’s not going to be dramatic on the ice, is she?
Stevie: Not sure. But if she is, it’s your problem.
Greer: Don’t smile at that!
Stevie: Sorry. Can’t talk. Things to do.
Greer: Evil woman.
Stevie: *smiles*
