Page 88 of The Tryout

“I mean, I can’t believe the team is making you stay with them. You should talk to your agent – he can probably file a formal grievance with the league.”

I’m starting to see what Ethan was talking about now. The man does have a very punchable face. I decide to go with honesty in my response.

“Probably not, since Tremblay and I have the same agent. Thanks for the offer, I guess. I’m very happy where I am.”

His eyes narrow, taking on a look of disgust.

Yeah, well, right back at you.

Finally, he rolls his eyes and walks away, nodding at one of the younger defensemen on his way out. As I watch him go, I feel Tremblay approach.

“What did he want?”

I consider my answer carefully, not wanting Tremblay to lose his temper, but still wanting him to know to keep an eye out.

“Nothing good.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

AVERY

Finn plays for Minnesota for the first time on a Tuesday night, and I watch the whole game from our couch. He slots in on the third line like it’s his spot, not Zimmerman’s, and even manages an assist in the third period.

On the way to the arena the next morning, I receive a call from Jamie.

“Hey, man, what’s up?”

I can hear the sound of a shaker bottle in the background and I assume he is making breakfast before his own trip to the practice rink.

“Not much, just checking to see if you saw your boy’s game last night.”

For a moment, I consider telling him that Finn’s not my boy, but end up deciding that arguing the point will be weirder than letting it drop.

“Yeah, looked like he did well. He fitting in okay up there?”

I know Finn can struggle sometimes socially on the Pack, but I also know the NHL has a reputation for being a bit more friendly than the minors. After all, here in Iowa, we’re all fighting for our lives.

“Yeah, the boys are being good. Took him out after the game last night and everything.”

Thinking of Finn’s hesitance to go out, that doesn’t really reassure me.

“He’s not always big on going out, Jamie. Make sure he knows he has a choice, okay?”

Jamie sighs audibly.

“I’m not a monster, Avery. Did you ever think he might want to celebrate his first NHL assist?”

Honestly, no. The thought had never crossed my mind, or at least not that he’d want to celebrate at a bar with the team. Here in Des Moines, we’d have celebrated that sort of thing on the couch or my bed or, if we were feeling really excited, the wall next to the front door.

“I just…want to make sure he’s having a good time. He takes hockey really seriously, you know?”

Jamie’s response is quick.

“Yeah, this might surprise you, but so do the rest of us on this professional hockey team.”

I deserve that.

“Sorry. I know you’ll take good care of him.”