AFTER THE GAME, I left Max’s uncle in the green room so he could meet up with Max. I didn’t want to bring any more attention to Max or myself, so I slipped away before Max showed up. I knew it’d be a couple hours before Dad finished partying with his friends, so I made myself a drink and used that time to think.
I had been born to two loving parents who did everything they could to give me a stable and loving environment. No matter what happened in my life, no matter how big my screw-ups, I always knew they were standing strong behind me, protecting me.
As much sympathy as I had for Max’s mom, I still couldn’t forgive her for abandoning Max.
I moved to my computer. Feeling like a stalker, I went online, and searched him as far back as I could, studying social media pictures, trying to get a glimpse of his social life. Had he ever had a serious relationship? I found an embarrassing amount of photos of him with puck bunnies and scantily clad women, but there was no evidence he had dated anyone. The only bonds he seemed to make were with his teammates. They were his family.
My feelings for Max were getting so big, so strong, they scared me, but it seemed impossible that Max might feel the same way. I vowed that no matter what happened, I’d do anything to protect his heart.
My phone buzzed.
Max: Why didn’t you stick around?
Me: Trying to be incognito
Max: My uncle can’t stop talking about you and that T-Bone steak he ate
Me: Ha! Really?
Max: Yup. Thanks for that.
Me: It was my pleasure – honest
Max: You still want to go on a date?
Me: Yes! When?
Max: We have a home game on Friday. How about after the game?
Me: That works
Max: Any chance you could spend the night?
I squeaked. I could ask Ola to cover for me. I could tell my parents I was spending the night with her to avoid questions.
Me: I think I could make that happen
Max: The dirty things I’m going to do to you
Me: Promise?
Max: What are you wearing?
Me: WHERE is your uncle?
Max: Sitting next to me on my couch
Me: GOOD NIGHT
Max: LOL
Me: I’m looking forward to Friday
Max: Me too. What are you doing?
Me: Lying on my couch in my office, trying not to fall asleep
Max: WHY are you there?
Me: Waiting for a ride home
Max: You want me to come and drive you home?
I stared at my phone in disbelief.
Me: You’d do that?
Max: Yup
Me: Wow – thanks! But my dad will probably be ready soon
Max: We could do dirty things in my vehicle…
Me: Stop temping me. You should spend time with your uncle
Max: He doesn’t mind
Me: Tempted. So tempted. But I’ll see you on Friday
Max: 😉
Me: XOXO
Only when I hung up, did I realize that on Friday, we had our first home game against Minnesota.
FRIDAY BEFORE THE GAME, I slipped into the back of the room where the players and the coaches gathered to discuss game tactics. I looked around for Dad, but he wasn’t in the meeting.
Me: Dad. Player meeting started. Where are you?
Baxter stood up in front of the room. “Tonight, we are playing our old Minnesota friends. We all know what happened the last time we played them. The game was dirty. Tonight, we will change that. I want this game to be clean.”
The players looked at each other in disbelief. My eyes found Max. He was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. His eyes were down and he didn’t react to the news.
One guy spoke up. “They’re going to come after us.”
Baxter pointed at him. “Doesn’t matter. We are a professional club and we will not fight back. We are hockey players, not fighters. We will not stoop to their level.”
“With all due respect,” another player spoke up, “But if we don’t rise to the occasion, Logan will take a pounding. You know they will come after him.”
“Clean game,” Baxter repeated, his voice harsh. “Anyone who goes against that will answer to me.”
“That’s bullshit,” someone muttered.
I turned and left the meeting, with one intention. I needed to find Dad.
I FOUND Dad sitting in his office. “Dad, where were you?”
“I had to take care of some stuff.”
“It’s not like you to miss the player meeting. This is a big game.”
“Well, why don’t you tell me what happened,” he opened a desk drawer looking for something.
“Baxter wants the players to play a clean game.”
Dad froze for a moment. Then he pulled something out of his desk. A bottle of anti-acids. “Well, you know we stay out of coaching decisions.”
“Dad, you know what the last game against Minnesota was like. No one likes to fight, but if we don’t defend ourselves, our players will get hurt.”
“Baxter has his reasons.”
“His reason is he wants Max to be a sitting duck in that game.”
Dad popped two pills into his mouth and chewed. “Why are you always so concerned about Logan?”
“I’m the monkey on his back, remember? Besides, he’s our star player. If he gets hurt, we will all suffer.”
“Rory, you need to learn to step back. Everyone has their role and Baxter’s role is to call the shots on how we play the game so we win.”
“You can’t tell me Baxter is making this decision to win. He’s making this decision because he wants Max out of the game.”
“You don’t know that.”
“How do you not know that?”
Dad sighed. “Logan has brought nothing but issues to this team since he arrived.”
I scoffed. “He’s the sole reason we’re ranked number two in our division.”
“Let it be, okay? Some things are out of our hands.”
I resisted the urge to scream. “Fine.”
My phone buzzed. It was Calder.
Calder: At the front gate. Tickets?
I stomped to the front gate. Dad’s attitude was both baffling and confounding. Why was he giving Baxter so much power to make such bad decisions? Tonight terrified me. If we played a clean game and let Minnesota take as many hits as they could, Max would not make it through the game. What was going on with Dad? He seemed so distant and distracted. This wasn’t like him.
Calder and six of his buddies were waiting at the gate. I handed him the tickets.
“Thanks, Roar,” Calder grinned at me.
“You’re different,” I studied him. “You’re sober!”
He shrugged. “Seeing Kat after the game. She hates it when I’m drunk.”
“You know your relationship with her freaks me out.”
He slung his arm around me. “So how bloody do you think this game will be?”
I shuddered. “I’m dreading this game.”
“You doing okay?”
“Fine.”
“You look pissed.”
“I’m fine. What’s going on with you?”
“I got a job.”
“Bullshit.”
“Yup. Parents are so proud they bought me a condo.”
“You’re joking. Where are you working?”
“Dad pulled some strings. I’m working as a junior analyst at a trading firm.”
“Tell me which one, so I call pull my money.”
He laughed and looked over his shoulders. “Come on, boys. I’m taking you to the bar. Drinks on me tonight.”
DAD and I sat alone in the box, waiting for the game to start.
“Where’s Mom?”
“Told her to stay home. She hates fighting.”
“So, you know this game is going to be brutal.”
He shook his head and didn’t answer.
I fumed. I wanted to ask him why he brought Max to Vancouver if he would not protect him and treat him like a member of the team, but I didn’t want to fight.
So, we sat silently together, watching the warm up.
