Page 12 of The Call-Up
“If there is, I couldn’t tell you. But after one day, I can see the guys on the Mules love having him here.”
“That’s good. Things didn’t end so well with him in Toronto.”
“Nothing ends well for anyone in Toronto,” I say. Outside of the Blizzards, that was the only other team I would have hated to be drafted to. The media there is a nightmare for players to navigate, and the fans love to send death threats to their players at the first sign of a playoff-missing season.
“So,” Ander says. “What are you doing tonight? How are you celebrating?”
“Sleeping.”
“That’s no fun.”
“Yeah, well, not all of us are the team’s social director like you are. I’m just tired. I haven’t slept yet.”
“Then take a nap and text Ryan when you wake up. He’s a nice guy and you already know him.”
“No shit,” I huff out. “He’s the reason I got stuck with this terrible nickname.”
“One. It’s a great nickname. And two, then he owes you. Ask him if he wants to get some food or grab a drink.”
Trust me, he doesn’t.
“I don’t have Ryan’s phone number.” For which, thank God, because the last thing I want to do is text him like some desperate pest looking for a dinner date. Besides, I can smell the chicken parm Vicky is cooking along with her cookies all the way down here in my room. My stomach is rumbling in anticipation.
“Here,” Ander says, as my phone pings with an incoming text. I look at it. He’s sent me Ryan’s contact info. “Even if you don’t text him tonight, you’ll want it at some point. Besides, having these connections is half the reason why Mom and Dad billeted all those hockey players while we were growing up.”
“Right. Like you’ve kept in touch with all of them.”
“Why wouldn’t I? It’s great! I have friends on every team. Theyall ask about you, too, by the way. Everyone wants to know how Baby Bouchard is doing. Do you know how stoked they’re gonna be when they see you do your rookie lap tomorrow?”
“Oh, no,” I laugh. “I’m not doing a rookie lap.”
“The fuck you aren’t! There’s no getting out of that, it’s tradition!”
“Fine,” I say with a long-suffering sigh. Truthfully, I’ve always wondered what a rookie lap would be like, but now that it’s upon me, I’m terrified. What if I make a complete ass out of myself alone on the ice with no one else on there to distract from me?
“That’s the spirit!” I can practically hear him fist pumping the air over the phone. “And make it a good one. I’m hosting a watch party.”
“Ander, come on. Why?”
“Because you’re my little brother.” Goddamn it. He sounds proud.
“Alright. I’ll do my best to make your party worthwhile.”
SIX
Ryan
It’s game day. On game days I like to keep a very tight routine. Even with Coach Chris taking over, my regime stays the same. And it always starts with a nice, leisurely morning before I head to the arena for a quick morning skate with the team.
Unfortunately, that leisurely morning is already being disrupted by an unknown number. But I can tell by the area code it’s a number from Green Bay, Wisconsin.This must be Brandon.
Jesus Christ. It seems Ander loves to give out people’s contact info. I can’t say I’m surprised, though. There is a running joke around the league that he is the unofficial social director. He has connections on every team and is constantly organizing nights out, events, and connecting new teammates like it’s his side-job.
I hit the answer button, assuming that I’ll hear Brandon on the other end. “Hello.”
“Ryan!” The unmistakable voice of Mrs. Bouchard rings through the speaker. It’s been ages since I’ve spoken to her, but she always sounds the same. “It’s so good to hear your voice again, dear. You know we watch every one of your games. We never miss a period. You’ve been playing so well and we are so proud of you.”
I’m pretty sure she said that all in one breath. Which, if I’m being honest, is slightly overwhelming. But that might be because this is already more enthusiasm about my career than my own family has ever given me. And now I’m feeling guilty for not having kept in better touch with the Bouchards since I left their care. There’s a reason why they’re beloved around the league. Unfortunately, I’ve been a bit aloof when it comes to my connection to them. Sometimes it’s just easier to pretend all families are like mine. It makes it hurt less.
