Page 24 of Offside

Griffin started banging his stick on the floor and the whole room followed, and Cole let out a sound that was somewhere between a war cry and a golden retriever discovering a tennis ball, and even Theo, in the back, gave a single sharp nod I was choosing to interpret as enthusiasm as he tapped his stick too.

Calloway, from the doorway, chirped, “What he said. Let’s go boys.”

The arena was half full, which in the context of an expansion team’s first game was either discouraging or a starting point. I chose starting point. The crowd was loud as the team took the ice for warm-ups, all-in and unembarrassed about it.

I did my warm-up lap and took inventory in the same order I always did before a game . Griffin in net, somewhere else mentally already, pads on, game face locked. Calloway behind the bench. And then Maren at the far end of the bench in staff gear, clipboard in hand, talking to Reyes, and I let myself look for two full seconds before I stopped.

She was standing with her weight on one hip, nodding at something Reyes was saying, a pen tucked behind her ear. She hadn’t noticed me yet. I had one second of watching her, watching how she tilted her head while she was listening, noting the easy authority she had in her own body, and I felt the pull of her so clearly it was almost embarrassing, before she glanced up and found me looking. Neither of us reacted, and I dragged my gaze back to the ice like a man with somewhere important to be.

I skated my warm-up and kept my eyes off the bench.

Still, I found the bench twice more.

Both times she was already watching me. Neither of us did anything about it. It was fine. It was completely normal and fine.

We lost 4–2, which wasn’t the story I’d wanted on opening night. Calloway said afterward, in a voice that left no room for argument, that it was a game we could build on. I had an assist on the first goal, a clean feed to Cole in the slot that he buried with calm certainty. Theo had the second, a power play that was frankly beautiful, and Theo accepted the congratulations with the flat expression he wore all the time, as if nothing was a big deal.

The locker room after was subdued but not broken. I said the things a captain said; or at least what I thought a captain should say after a tough loss. The effort was there, the competition level was there, a loss in game one of an expansion season was not the same as a loss in April. I meant all of it.

Griffin found me after. “Drinks.”

“Yeah.”

The Rusty Nail was exactly what we needed. A dive bar with a patio, string lights, misting fans working overtime against the September night, which in Phoenix still meant pretty fucking hot, something I still wasn’t used to. The team took up most of the patio inside of twenty minutes.

I got a beer and found a spot at the edge of things, close enough to be present and far enough to breathe. Cole was telling a story that required both hands and the participation of two bystanders. Eli sat at the end of the bar with a club soda, making visible peace with being somewhere he hadn’t quite agreed to attend but felt the obligation as part of the team. I knew he was a single dad and probably wanted to get home, but I appreciated his effort to be part of the team socially, something I thought was important.

I’d been there about ten minutes when Griffin came through the door with Maren behind him. She’d changed out of her staff gear into jeans and a black tank top that hugged every bit of her. She looked like she’d been out in the sun all day, warm-cheeked and easy, and I took a drink of my beer and told myself I hadn’t been watching the door and it was nothing but a coincidence I’d caught her arrival.

Cole clocked her in half a second.

“Callahan.” He was moving toward Griffin, a playful smirk forming. He was about to fuck with Griffin. “You didn’t tell us your sister was⁠—”

“Finish that sentence,” Griffin said pleasantly, “and I will make your life very difficult.”

“I was going to say so clearly a Callahan.”

“You were not going to say that.”

“She has your eyes, man. It’s a family resemblance observation.” Cole extended a hand to Maren with the full-wattage grin. “Maren, it’s wonderful to see you. Can I get you a drink?”

Maren seemed surprised by the offer, raising her eyebrows and grinning, but as I looked around the room, I could tell more than half of them wanted to be the guy to get her a drink. Jealousy I had no right to feel roiled in my stomach.

“She’s my sister,” Griffin said with a sideways glare. “Remember that.”

“Constantly on my mind,” Cole said, already moving on, but he added a wink in Maren’s direction which caused her to let out a light laugh. She knew the game being played here.

Theo, nearby, had been watching with his arms crossed. He turned to Maren, then to Griffin, then back. “Your brother is a good goalie,” he said. From Theo, this constituted both an introduction and the highest possible praise.

“He’ll be thrilled you think so,” Maren said.

Theo nodded once and returned to his drink and his conversation with one of the rookies.

I was watching from about eight feet away, something happening in my body I didn’t have a name for yet, but it was clearly adjacent to want. Griffin was my best friend and she was Griffin’s sister and the guys chirped because that was what they did, and none of it required anything from me.

I took another sip of my beer and peeled at the label with my thumb.

It was nothing. I just didn’t have anything else to focus on. Not that I wanted to focus on anything but her. Ugh.