Page 34 of Game Misconduct

fourteen

. . .

Nick

For you? No. Never.

Bex’s words echo in my head. For three days, it’s all I can think about. Her dismissal stings as much as my father’s disinterest in me as anything other than a cash infusion.

As we board the team plane for our flight to Columbus, I walk past where she’s sitting with Vanessa, Amelia, and Andrews, and the scent of her orange-blossom perfume is so strong, I can’t get it out of my nose even when I take my seat seven rows back—on the aisle, so I can keep her in my line of sight.

Henry drops into the seat across from me. “What’s up, man?”

“Nothing,” I mutter, unfolding my legs and digging into my bag for my book.

But he isn’t deterred by my pissy attitude. “Whatcha reading?”

I show him the cover, and he lets out a low whistle.

“I love it. Can I borrow it when you’re done?”

“Sure.” I guess we really are in a book club; I kind of thought it was a joke.

Over the last few weeks, I’ve seen the same handful of books passed around the team. It’s more than Gonzo, Logan, and MacGregor; more than half the guys can be found reading on the plane. On previous teams, most players would hide in movies and TV shows or video games on our long flights. It’s kind of cool that these guys are all readers, that they don’t denigrate each other or get labeled as nerds because they like to read.

MacGregor is a gamer; he doesn’t go to the bar with the team very often, spending most nights holed up in his hotel room with a gaming console. I’ve joined him once, but most video games make me nauseous, the way the screen jolts with each stroke of the controller. I’d much rather play a round of cards to get to know someone than sit side by side as we try to kill each other on a screen.

Henry pulls out his own book; it’s not the one I saw him with yesterday in the team lounge. As much as I want to keep my distance from him, he can’t help who he’s related to, and I can’t keep holding it against him. I can be the bigger person.

My goaltender studies me carefully. “Do you have a problem with me?”

Yes.

“Why would you think that?” I deflect.

“I don’t know, man. You just seem a little… distant.” Henry shrugs. “I know I’m kind of a lot to deal with. If I’m too much, you have to tell me to back off.”

“That’s not it.”

“So it’s not all in my head, there is something going on. What is it?”

Chewing the inside of my cheek, I debate coming out and telling him. But how do I tell my teammate I can’t trust him because of his sibling’s actions?

He pauses. “Is it my family? I swear I’m nothing like my dad.”

He’s part of the Henry family, who have won more Cups combined than any other family since the league’s inception. There are a handful of legacies, but the Henry family are a straight up dynasty.

His father was known for being an elite forward, playing a heavy-hitting game and scoring buckets of points. He’s regularly featured as a guest commentator and speaks in the press about how the Grizzlies are doing, always praising Seb over the rest of our teammates. Personally, I’ve always thought he was an egotistical asshole, but given his lengthy resume and Hall of Fame status, it’s hard to deny his impact on the sport.

“I don’t care who your dad is,” I tell him honestly.

“I just want you to treat me like any of the other guys,” Henry says. “I’ve got your back game in and game out, but I don’t feel like you do the same.”

I open my mouth to object, but he cuts me off.

“You’re doing your best out there, you’re scoring the points. That’s your job. Just like it’s my job to bail the team out. But you don’t seem to like being around me, and I want to know why.”

“I’m all in my head,” I finally say. “It’s nothing to do with you personally. I’m just sorting out my shit.”