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I open the door for her, allowing her to enter first, but it’s pitch black. As I flip the light switch on, Logan’s eyes widen, but I’m not surprised. That’s typically the reaction I get when I show anyone this space for the first time.
We are a D1 hockey team in a city and state that puts the sport above anything else.
“Damn.” Logan steps inside. “This is impressive.” She does a spin, taking in her surroundings.
I watch as her eyes trail the locker stalls before she looks down at the maroon carpet where she stands, a giant yellow ‘M’ right smack dab in the middle of it.
“And much cleaner than I expected,” she adds with a laugh.
“I think it’s a misconception that all locker rooms are gross. Some of them definitely are, but this room is taken care of just as much as the ice in the arena.”
“This one is yours.” Logan runs her fingers over the placard with my last name hanging above my stall. “Corner spot. Prime real estate.”
“Of course. I am the captain, after all,” I remind her. “This is my locker room.”
“How very territorial of you.”
“Just stating facts.”
Logan grabs my phone from the top shelf of my locker, but before she hands it to me, her eyes fall on the two pictures I have taped to the back of my stall. One of her and I and one of my parents, Marc, and me.
“How long has this been up there?” she asks, pointing to the picture of us. It’s the one my stepmom took after the first game Logan came to.
I have plenty of pictures of the two of us and even more of just Logan that I’ve snapped, but for some reason, this one is still my favorite. Maybe it’s because it was the first time my two loves came together—her and hockey. Or because it was the first time she met my parents. I’m not sure.
“Since Mary took it. I got it printed out as soon as she sent it to me.”
Logan’s cheeks blush, knowing I’ve had this photo in my locker since October. I can only picture how pink they’d turn if she knew I made sure it was the last thing my eyes fell on before I hit the ice every game because it helps calm me down.
“This locker room is insane, Eli.” Logan continues to check it out. “It reminds me of the one I would’ve had at Oregon.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Mmm-hmm,” she hums. “I never got to see it in person but from the pictures online. Yeah, it was about as amazing. Their girls’ basketball team is one of the best in the country, and they’re definitely treated that way.”
“Do you miss playing?” I lean against the wall, my hands tucked into my suit pants’ pockets as I watch Logan continue to explore. “Would you ever want to try and play again? For a team.”
“I don’t think so. I enjoyed that part of my life, and I have some great memories from it, but I’m ready to move on. Besides, even if I did play my four years at Oregon, I would’ve been done by now.” She turns the corner to check out another part of our locker room before popping her head back to look at me. “Why do you ask?”
I casually pop my shoulders. “Just because you cheer me on so much at my games, I wish I could do the same for you.”
Logan’s expression softens. “You do cheer me on. You’re my biggest cheerleader. But instead of basketball, it’s with other things, like school. That’s what I care about now anyway.”
“So, what you’re saying is you want me to crash your next test and cheer you on the whole time.”
“Absolutely not,” Logan quickly counters.
“Let’s go, thirteen! Fuck Economics!” I playfully shout.
“Stop,” Logan laughs. “I’d be mortified.”
“So, what do you think?” I motion towards the room.
“So cool. I love getting to see you in your element. Behind the scenes. And I can’t wait to see your locker room in Dallas one day.”
My heart sinks at her words. I genuinely don’t know if it’ll happen at this point. The next couple of weeks are when call-ups would happen, but things have been radio silent. I felt good after Senior Showcase, but the more time goes by since the scouts have seen me, the more worried I’ve become that they’ve forgotten about me completely. Or worse, they heard about my injury and decided to pass.
“Is this the only other entrance?” Logan fiddles with the handle of the door that leads out to the ice.
