Page 17 of Offensive Edge
MARCH 9, 2015
10:12 p.m. EST
Hey, Teddy, looks like I keep missing you. I know I’ve been bad at returning calls and texts. This year has been such a whirlwind, you couldn’t even believe.
I’m sure you’re busy, what with the points you’re putting up this year. No one knew better than I did that you’d break my records, but, uh, let me know if I should text instead? We’re on this super long roadie and I’m so worn out, and so lonely. I didn’t think the NHL was going to be like this. I don’t know what it was going to be like, but more fun, I guess. It’s just a grind. Junior never made my body feel this depleted.
It’s pretty in Florida, though. I wish I could share this with you. I should have brought my camera with me, but I get enough shit for it from the older guys when they see me with it. Phone photos are just different. I’m rambling. Anyway, I miss you. Call me back sometime if you have a moment.
MARCH 30, 2015
12:43 p.m. CST
Hey, Theo. I guess I deserve the silent treatment for being so bad at texting you back and stuff. I decided to call instead of text this time because of the concussion. When it happened, I wasn’t sure what to say. I should have called earlier. Doesn’t seem like you want to hear from me right now. Your mom texted me, though. Did she tell you? Well, I hope you feel better. Call me back. Pretty bummed about getting mathematically eliminated. I dunno. Miss you.
APRIL 19, 2015
2:15 p.m. MT
Missed call from Rowan Foley
CHAPTER11
THEO
There weresome places Theo had always hated playing, and Winnipeg was at the top of the list. He was sure the people were fine, but the city was cold and flat, travel was obnoxious, the Winnipeg Wheat were frustrating to play against, and something random always went wrong.
His night had been going too well. They won. He’d woken up that day feeling well-rested. He got hibachi for lunch with a few of the guys, and Rowan had declined the invitation. He was waiting for the other shoe to drop.
He didn’t have to wait for long.
There was a knock on his door right after he’d put his night mouth guard in, pimple patches lightly scattered over the acne constellation on his jaw, eye mask on his forehead, ready to block out the world. He was wearing his boxers and socks, because he never went barefoot in a hotel.
He half expected it to be someone telling him the building was on fire and the alarms weren’t working. Instead, he opened the door and found Rowan.
“Fucking Winnipeg,” Theo grumbled.
“What?”
“Never mind. What do you want?”
Rowan rubbed the back of his neck. “I know you’re not going to want to say yes, but you’re my literal last option. Vic must already be sound asleep. Please say yes.”
When they were teenagers, he loved when Rowan was nervous around him. It was sweet. Now, he felt halfway between annoyance and pity. “Just ask.”
“My fucking toilet backed up in my room—no, it wasn’t my fault. Apparently they have had a lot of issues with it over the last couple weeks. I heard all about it. The hotel is sold out for the night. Believe me, I just spent forty minutes downstairs trying to figure out a solution. My room smells fucking awful, and staying there anyway isn’t an option because they won’t let me. I’m just…I’m fucking tired. Can I just sleep on your couch or something? I won’t even look at you.”
The defeat Rowan delivered all that information with cracked Theo’s shell a bit. He could choose to be a huge asshole and get chewed out by their coach for leaving their star player out in the (metaphorical) cold, or he could just not make a big deal out of it. Plus, holding this anger with Rowan was exhausting. Maybe it was time to at least try being nicer to Rowan. For both of their sakes. And for Vic, who had made it abundantly clear that Theo had been pissing him off lately. He hated feeling like Vic was disappointed in him, both because he was his captain, and also because he was Theo’s closest friend in San Jose. Even if he had been fairly absent this season.
“Fine,” Theo said, opening the door enough for Rowan to slip in. He had his things with him, and he hung up his garment bag and dug out his toiletries.
“You don’t have a couch,” Rowan noticed.
Theo shrugged. “King bed, it’s fine. Don’t touch me.”
“Yeah, no. Okay. I’m going to just—” He gestured to the bathroom. Theo gave him a half-assed thumbs-up and headed toward bed. He plugged his phone in, grabbed one of the pillows from Rowan’s side of the bed, and shoved it between his knees. He set his alarm, pulled his eye mask over his eyes, and tried to pretend this wasn’t happening.
A few minutes later, he heard Rowan pad toward the bed, turning lights off as he went. The bed shifted with his weight, and Theo was hit with the memory of what it was like to share a bed when they were kids. Theo would have scooted over to pull Rowan into his arms, and he would have felt settled and safe.
