Page 3 of The Call-Up
“I don’t think Kennedy would approve of that,” Clemmers says with a laugh.
“Not what I meant,” I say, giving a jerk-off motion with my hand in hisdirection.
“And notwhoI meant, either,” Danton says.
“Is there another Bouchard?” Ivanov asks, his voice gruff and his expression vaguely murderous as he finishes up another set of squats. He puts the bar back down onto the hooks on the rack with a loud clatter.
“Wow,” Danton says. “You all really don’t keep up with our prospects, do you?”
“Why would we?” Roysy laughs. “When was the last time this organization made a decent draft pick?”
“Hey!” I protest. “I was one of those draft picks, you know.”
“My point exactly.” Roysy laughs some more, then places the kettlebell down and sits to stretch beside it.
“Keep talking one hundred and third overall,” Danton says to Roysy as he begins to remove the plates from his weight bar.
“How do you even know that?” Roysy asks.
Danton shrugs. “I’m a stats guy.” He turns his attention back to me as he sits beside Roysy to stretch with him. “As I was saying, what’s the deal with your boy? Brandon.”
“Ander’s little brother?”
“Yeah,” Danton laughs. “Why is this so hard for you to grasp?”
“It’s not,” I say. Which is the truth. I haven’t thought about Brandon since the day I moved out of the Bouchards’ house when my season on the Hodags was over. Brandon was still a kid when I knew him. “What about him?”
“What’s he like?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know. Quiet, I guess. Why?”
“I just got a text from our GM. Coach Chris called him up to play on your right wing.”
“Fuck, yes!” Clemmers and Roysy exclaim together, as Clemmers walks past Roysy and gives him a high five.
“I can finally move back down to the third line where I belong,” Roysy says.
Okay. Well at least he’s self-aware. I bring a hand to my heart. “I’ll always remember our time together fondly.”And I will, but I have to admit I am excited to see what Brandon can bring to theteam. It’s been forever since I’ve seen him play, but he had a lot of potential when he was younger.
Roysy blows me a kiss. “Goodbye, sweet liney.”
Clemmers sits across from Danton and Roysy with his legs extended forward. He halfheartedly attempts to touch his toes. “I still can’t believe Chicago fired Coach Chris.”
I sit beside him. “I can’t believe Kennedy got traded.”
“By his own father,” Ivanov adds as he joins us. He immediately spreads his legs wide, practically doing a center split, then folds forward. His chin touches the ground. Showoff. “We don’t even do that in Russia.”
“Well, we shouldn’t do it here, either,” Danton says. “But I will admit, it’s nice to see Kennedy Sr get knocked down a few pegs. He’s such a prick.”
“And Chicago lose its star,” Clemmers says. “With Junior gone, we might actually have a chance at sneaking into the playoffs.”
Danton points at him. “Now you’re talking.”
My lips pull up into a wicked grin as I look in Danton’s direction. “Will your doctors approve of you playing all those extra games at your age?”
“Fuck off.” He tosses his dirty sweat rag at me but he’s laughing as he does it.
Brandon
