Page 133 of The Tryout

In the Uber, I pull out my phone to text Avery.

Finn Murphy 9:48 PM

I never thought I’d be so tired of flying.

Avery Lawson 9:49 PM

Poor baby

I tuck my phone away, knowing that if I start a conversation with him, I’m likely to ditch the guys altogether.

Thirty minutes later, though, I can’t help myself. Most of the guys are two or three drinks in, which is doing nothing to raise my mood. I wonder if Avery went out tonight. Surely he did? Pulling out my phone, I pull up my messages, not sure what I’m hoping to see.

Avery Lawson 9:58 PM

Did you know Novak and Elena show the girls the London celebration? They get to watch the whole celebration, pop some sparkling apple cider, and still not be late for bedtime.

Fucking brilliant.

Avery Lawson 10:25 PM

Nice goal tonight.

Avery Lawson 10:32 PM

I miss you.

I don’t even make it to the last message before I’m grabbing my coat and heading for the door. I wave at Jamie as I click on Avery’s number, raising the phone to my ear. After a couple of rings, he answers.

“H’llo?”

His voice is thick, his words a little…slurred?

“Are you drunk?”

Avery hardly drinks around me, even though I know he does drink. But in almost three months, I’ve never seen him truly intoxicated.

He clears his throat.

“No. Or, I mean, I don’t think so? Had a couple glasses of champagne at Novak’s. Mostly tired.”

He sounds coherent enough.

“Congratulations, baby.”

“I mean, it wasn’t a great goal. Mostly luck.”

He snorts.

“Better to be lucky than good. Besides, I wasn’t talking about the goal.”

I find myself confused. Part of that is my surroundings – I’d decided to walk back to the hotel from the bar, and I’m not a thousand percent sure I turned the right way. But the rest of the confusion stems from what Avery said.

“What..what else is there to congratulate me on?”

He laughs, and I feel for a second like I’ve been left out of the joke.

“It was your tenth game with Minneapolis, Finn. Tick tock.”