Page 103 of The Call-Up
Coach said to enjoy every second of this, but right now, I’m not enjoying a damn thing.
“Holy shit!” Danton yells out behind me as I wipe my mouth. “He finally did it!”
“Yes,” Ivanov says. “In wrong trash can.”
“Fuck off,” I whine.
“Are you alright?” Ryan asks me. He places his hand on my shoulder then offers me a squirt of water from a nearby bottle.
I wipe my mouth again. “I’m good. Just had to let that one out, you know?”
He nods his head. “Oh, I know.” He holds his fingers up between us, bringing his first finger a mere millimeter from his thumb. “You’ve been this close to losing your lunch for dozens of games. Maybe now your nervous stomach will give you a rest.”
“I highly doubt that,” I say, then accept the water he’s offering. Out of the corner of my eye, I see one of our trainers discreetly replacing the garbage can I just threw up into with a new one. He gives me a thumbs up when he walks away.
“Bouchard!” Coach Chris yells out.
I skate to him, and he silently slips me a piece of gum. I take it and pop it into my mouth. As I chew, he taps my helmet with his hand.
“Skate it off, son,” he says. “You’ll be fine once the puck drops.”
“Hey! Little brother!” The sound of Ander’s voice rings out behind me.
I turn around and see him standing at the very edge of the redline that runs through center ice. I skate to him, knowing full well that every camera in this place is going to be focused directly on us. Two brothers facing off in game seven.
Ander is wearing his usual goofy grin when I get to him. “Still get nervous, huh?”
I shrug. “Only a little bit.”
“Only a lot a bit,” Ryan says as he skates to a stop beside us. He stares Ander down. “But don’t think that makes him weak. We’re coming for you.”
Ander holds his hands up in defense. “I didn’t think you wouldn’t be.” He takes his glove off and holds out his hand to the both of us. “I just wanted to wish you both good luck tonight,” he says. “No matter how this goes, we’re still family. All of us. Alright?”
“Definitely,” I say and shake his hand. “Always family.”
“For sure,” Ryan says, grinning menacingly as he shakes Ander’s hand. “I expect to see you at our cup party.”
Ander raises his eyebrow as he lets go of Ryan’s hand. “That’s cute. How about a little wager?”
I hold up my hands. This can go in so many different directions and not one of them is good. “How about not.”
“No, no,” Ryan says, still grinning and nodding his head. “I like this idea. What are your terms, Bouchard?”
The smile on my brother’s face is unnerving. “The loser has to show up to the winner’s cup party in a bikini.”
“Fucking bet!” Ryan says and holds out his hand again.
“No fucking bet!” I say, as I skate in between them before they can shake on this ridiculous wager.
“Scared?” they both ask me in unison.
“Yes!” I exclaim. “I hate everything about this idea.”
“Then I guess we better do whatever we need to win this thing,” Ryan says and reaches around me to shake Ander’s hand.
“Can’t wait to see those legs of yours, Christianson,” Ander cackles. He turns his attention back to me. “Yours too, little brother.”
“Absolutely not,” I say. “I didn’t shake on it. This is all you two.”
