I park my car in the lot and scan my badge to enter the arena. We’ll all board the bus to Las Vegas in a couple hours, but I’m here early for a workout. And because Coach said he wanted to see me. I figure he’s changing the lines for tomorrow’s game, but that’s not a huge deal. Yes, I’ve loved playing first line, but maybe Branson’s off the DL and Coach wants to give him his spot back.
I change in the locker room because this heat is no joke, and then head straight to Coach’s office. It’s empty, so I take a seat on the bench and pull out my phone. Sure enough, there’s a text from my mom.
Mom: Looking forward to seeing you play tomorrow night! But really, did they have to pick Reno? I may need to handcuff myself to Emersyn just to keep an eye on her. :)
Booker: Let her loose. She’ll clean up at blackjack, no doubt.
Mom: True, but I don’t need loan sharks after me. Did I tell you Kristy and Brian are coming, too?
Booker:Whit texted this morning and said the same thing. That’s awesome.
Mom: We’re all so proud of you.
Booker:Love you, Mom.
Mom: Love you back. And give Ian my love, too. Oh, and remind him to call his mother. I talked to Marlene this morning and she said she hasn’t heard from him in a week.
Booker: Will do. But he’s giving that lecture series, remember? He’s been prepping for it all week. The first talk was last night and the final one is tonight. I’m sure he’ll call tomorrow, after he’s crashed for a couple hours.
Mom: Ok, I guess he gets a pass for the next 24 hours. Love you.
Booker: Love you.
Just as I pocket my phone, I hear the door creak and spot Coach walking in.
“Zabek, you’re twenty minutes early.”
“Yeah, sorry. I can hop on the—”
But Coach just laughs as he unlocks his office door and gestures for me to enter. “Nah, this is fine. And I have a feeling that what I’m gonna say will elevate your heart rate more than any treadmill could.”
What is he talking about? My mind goes in to overdrive. “Is everything ok?”
“That depends,” he says, but he’s still smiling, so I’m trying not to panic.“For you? Things are great? Me? I gotta find a new winger for next season.”
Forget beating out of my chest, my heart stops.
“Phoenix is calling you up, kid. As soon as our season ends, you’re a Scorpion.”
* * *
Ian
It’s the opportunity of a lifetime. I’m finishing the second year of my doctoral degree, and the university is hosting a series of lectures ranging in topics from mindfulness to finance to linguistics. And the talk on the psychology of human sexuality? That’s all mine.
I was thrilled and floored when the department head asked me to contribute. I’m nearly halfway through my program and these kinds of honors typically go to people with years more experience than I have. But Dr. Brenner said he thought I’d represent the program well, so how could I say no? Add in the fact that I’ll get to talk to an audience of five hundred, plus the livestream viewers.
This is, in a nutshell, my jam.
I should be losing my mind with excitement. And I am. The only problem is that my crowd of five hundred doesn’t include the one person I really want to talk to.
Booker and I have been surviving on a steady diet of voice messages, snapchats, and sexts.
It’s less than ideal, but it’s our reality for the next three years, give or take. Booker’s playing AHL hockey in the southwest while I’m earning credits and giving lectures on the East Coast. I’ve thought of changing schools several times. It’s not necessarily recommended, but it’s not unheard of, either. But what if I got accepted to a school in Santa Fe or Las Vegas, only to have Booker be traded to another AHL team?
At least in the NHL the travel is a bit faster, the cities all have major airports. And I have no doubt my boyfriend will play for the big leagues someday. In the meantime, I’ll stay here and focus on my goal, knowing that someday in the future, Booker will be inches away from me, rather than thousands of miles.
Straightening my tie, I try to drum up the enthusiasm this event deserves. I check my phone one more time and reread the text Booker sent hours ago.
