Page 98 of Mac Meyers Needs Me

“You hear anything back from any of the summer programs yet?” Gage asks.

“Not yet. How about you?” We’ve applied to a couple of the same places, including the Hockey Academy.

“Me neither. Hopefully soon, though,” Gage says.

“Crossing everything for the Hockey Academy.”

I haven’t mentioned the other programs to Fee, hopeful I’ll get a local spot. But I’ve been thinking about the alternatives a lot. Like only having overseas interest, getting called up, but the team is across the country, or in the States. Would she be willing to try long distance? At fajita night the Terror crew shared stories about how demanding their rookie years were.

I put my worries in a box and focus on practice as we hit the ice for warm-ups before we scrimmage. I don’t eat ice, and I manage an assist with Brody scoring the goal. Whistling draws our attention to the stands.

“Holy shit.” Gage’s jaw drops. “Is that Alex fucking Waters? What the hell is he doing here?”

Coach blows the whistle. “Stiles, bring it in.”

“Bro. Dude.” Chase claps him on the back. “Is Alex fucking Waters here to see you?”

Brody shrugs, his face turning red. “Dunno.”

Alex Waters is a legend in the sport, much like Roman. After he retired, him and his former Chicago Rage teammates started the Hockey Academy out in Pearl Lake, near Chicago. They opened a second program in Toronto a few years ago, and there’s already a five-year waitlist. It’s no surprise since they produce some of the best players in the league.

“Chase, Brody, it’s good to see you boys pushing yourselves this season. I was just telling your coach how excited we are that you’ve applied to come back this year.”

“Last summer was amazing,” Chase says.

“Best hockey camp experience ever.” Brody nudges me and Gage forward. “This is Mac Meyers and Gage Steele. They’re my teammates, but also my roommates.”

“It’s nice to meet you guys.”

I shake Alex Waters’ hand and manage not to pass out. “It’s an honor, sir.”

“You had a rough start to the season, but you’ve made some big gains over the past month. Keep it up and you’ll be fine,” Alex says.

I swallow knives of mortification. “I’m working hard to bring my stats back to where they were last season.”

“Roman has great things to say about you,” he adds.

“That’s good to hear.” I don't want my relationship with Fee to be the reason I get a spot in the Hockey Academy.

“Just keep putting in the time on the ice,” he advises.

I step back and let some of the other guys introduce themselves while the swirling anxiety digs its claws in. Keep it up is the hockey equivalent of a participation ribbon. What if I’m never good enough for the pros?

I’m quiet in the locker room as the rest of the guys chatter excitedly about having met such a legendary player. Brody is inundated with questions, which isn’t unusual, but the guy hates being the center of attention, so he’ll probably lock himself in his room for the rest of the night and avoid unnecessary social interaction.

It isn’t until we’re in the car on the way back to our place that Brody turns to me. “Dude, you haven’t said a word since the locker room. What’s going on?”

“Alex Waters knows I suck.”

Gage frowns. “What? I was standing beside you the whole time. He didn’t say that."

“Keep it up. He said keep it up. And he knows I had a rough start to the season, and that I’ve been on the ice with Roman.”

“You’ve been on the ice with Hammerstein?” Chase asks.

“Forrest-Hammer,” I correct.

“You know what I mean. Since when have you been on the ice with the most legendary goalie in all of hockey history?” Chase presses. “And why the hell didn’t you tell us?”