“Mickey did you proud, Van. We were just running drills and poor Deano couldn’t keep hold of the puck because Mickey kept snagging it from him.”
“It’s all the practice we’ve been doing. Are you coming back early from break? Because I could meet you here, if you want.”
“Dude,” Ollie scolds, cuffing Mickey upside the head. “The fuck is the matter with you? The man is injured. He’s not gonna hop around the arena over break just to help you improve your game.”
“Actually,” I say, “I might, depending on when you’re free. I’ve got holiday stuff, of course, and then my surgery’s scheduled. But yeah, I should be able to meet up for a day or two so you can show me what you’ve been working on.”
“Seriously?” Deano asks. “Because I want in on that practice.”
“Yeah, sure. Just send me a message.” Santos is giving me a funny look and when my eyes dart toward Coach’s office, he smiles. It’s the most we’ve said to each other since he handed me my ass the other night. I totally owe him one for that. And I also feel like I owe these guys an explanation, or maybe I just want to see their reaction.
“I was talking to Coach just now, and he said Anderson’s leaving at the end of the season.” They all nod and mumble, because this rumor has been circulating for a while.
“He suggested I apply for the position.”
My words hang in the air for a second before I hear Pete’s signature howl. Will claps me on the shoulder and Mikalski is literally jumping up and down.
“That’s fucking genius,” Deano says. “You’ve basically been the rookie coach all year. But next year, you get to make it official.”
I explain that it’s not a done deal, but the guys aren’t having it. I know a lot of things have to fall into place, but I’m lucky as hell to have the friends that I do.
“Okay, so you’ve got options for the future. That’s fucking great. But what are you going to do in the here and now?” Ollie asks. “And it better include groveling to Josie because I will be seriously pissed at you if you break my matchmaking streak just because you’re a dumbass.”
“That’s my next stop. But I don’t know exactly where to stop. She’s already at home, and I don’t have the address. All I know is that it’s in Silver Creek.”
Will texted Mel, but she doesn’t have her notifications on.
A couple guys scroll through their phones, but nothing pops up. Santos finds a directory for the Legacy Scholars, but it only lists phone numbers and email addresses.
“Shouldn’t you guys be on break now?” Coach asks, locking his office door.
“We can’t leave until a love match is secure, Coach,” Ollie says. “Van’s gonna win Josie back, but nobody knows her address.”
Coach shakes his head. “Christ, have you never heard of a phonebook? The White Pages?”
We just stare at him.
“Jesus," he mutters and walks away.
Ollie finds it. "Coach was right. It was in this website called the White Pages."
44
Van
“Idon’t know, man,” Norris says as his car idles in the street. “I believe in true love and all that shit. And I think you and Josie are meant to be. I’m just saying I probably shouldn’t drive away just yet. She could kick your sorry ass to the curb. Or she could be visiting relatives halfway across the country.”
I look over at the redbrick house that’s Josie’s, at least according to the website Ollie found. “I’ll be good,” I assure him with more confidence than I feel.
Norris drives off and I make my way to the front of her house. Sure, she could slam the door in my face and refuse to talk to me, but I know Josie and I hope that even if she’s had enough of my bullshit, she listens to what I came to say.
And if she's willing to give me another second chance, I’m not gonna blow it.
I ring the doorbell and a tiny voice comes over the speaker. "State your name and your business."
I can’t see her face, but I recognize Iris’s sweet little voice. “Hey, it’s Beckett Vandaele, Skee-Ball Champ Extraordinaire, at your service. Remember me? We met at Little John’s a couple weeks ago.”
There’s a long pause and then a slightly older voice issues a command. “Show us your face and ID.” That has to be the twins. Jos said they’re really into true crime. And I’m kinda proud of them for making sure I am who I say I am.
