So instead, I’m here at the Wolf’s Den watching practice.
Between Booker the hockey player and Emersyn the ice dancer, I’ve spent an alarming percentage of my life rink side. It used to bother me, but I’m over that now. The athletic gene skipped me entirely, but neither of my siblings can draw a passable stick figure, so I think we’re even. Besides, I’d much rather sketch on a notepad or a computer than freeze my tits off like this every day.
Annabelle takes the seat next to mine and hands me a paper cup with a little cardboard collar.
I sign the word for coffee and when she nods excitedly, I blow her a kiss. This should warm me up. Of course, it might also keep me up all night, but maybe Cody and Kendra will have worn themselves out by the time I make it back.
Josie sits on my other side and Maggie settles into the row right in front of us. Calla’s bundled up, but I can see she’s got a set of baby-sized headphones on.
The girls chatter around me, and I notice Josie signing, but I’m more focused on the ice than I am on them.
The guys are playing like shit.
It’s only the first week of training, and it’s only a scrimmage. That much is true. But if I know anything about athletes, then I know that it’s never just training or just practice. It matters. Especially when there’s a crowd. Andthese stands are packed. After all, who wants to see the national championship team kick its own ass and melt down a few weeks before the season starts.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I briefly wonder if it’s Kendra, messaging to apologize. We’re not lifelong besties or anything, but we were randomly selected to room together last year and it went so well we thought we’d do it again. Of course, that was before Kendra got a leech stuck to her face. Sorry, not a leech. A boyfriend.
A glance at my screen shows that Kendra isn’t the least bit sorry, or maybe that she’s still busy having sex with Cody. I swipe up anyway. A conversation with my little sister beats the dream of an apology every single time.
Em: How are classes? How are Gran and Grandad?
Fallon: Classes are fine, but it’s only day three. Our grandparents are good, too. They have a new hobby. It’s a game called “Find Fallon a Boyfriend Before She Does Something Crazy Like Fly on a Plane by Herself or Assert Her Independence”
Em: That sounds like a terrible game. No stars.
Fallon: Completely agree. I love those two dearly, but I don’t need them to play matchmaker for me, or tell me how to live my life.
Em: Wow. That’s a lot. Kinda makes me glad I’m all the way out in California.
Fallon: Speaking of…How’s Cali? How’s the wide world of ice dancing? Have you kicked anyone in the head today?
Em: Not yet, but the day is still young. I’m not interrupting roomie bonding time, am I? Aren’t you watching a movie marathon tonight?
Fallon: More like a live porn-a-thon. I walked in to find Kendra and her boyfriend having sex in the living room.
Em: Ew. Wait, are they hot? Because maybe…
Fallon: Nope. Stop that. Ew. Yuck. Also, who raised you?
Em: The internet.
Fallon: Fair.
Em: So what are you up to? Don’t tell me you’re studying. Classes just started!
Fallon: I’m at the Wolf’s Den for open practice.
Em: Does the team look good?
Em: Scratch that. Does Ollie look good?
Em: What’s wrong with me? Of course he does. That man is sex in a suit. Or a hockey jersey. Or…
Fallon: Stoppppppp. The team looks like shit and Ollie does, too.
Em: You are a terrible liar.
Fallon: I’m serious. If this is the way they play all year, I’m not sure we’ll win one game, let alone a freaking championship.
