28. The Credits
Practicefor the next week is insane. It always is the week before opening day. After our offseason workouts and training camp, we”re in the best shape we”re going to be, but there”s nothing like a live game to give us that last little push. And everyone”s anticipation is building toward that first face-off. Even more so when you”re a goalie trying to work back to your starting spot, and you have a coach who gives fewer clues than a blank wall.
All week, he works Milo and me equally. I try to count the number of shifts we each face during our scrimmages, desperate for some hint. But when I walk into the practice center Sunday morning for our team film session, Milo and I have faced the exact same number. That means Coach is going the extra mile to not tip his hand. So when he calls us into his office after going through the film for the St. Louis game, I don’t know what”s coming. That terrifies me more than facing down a three-on-one breakaway.
Milo and I walk together to his office. Each of us tries to comfort the other in case he”s named the backup, but it”s no good. We both want the number one title. And we both deserve it. At least I hope I”ve proven to Coach I do. I still have that doubt in the back of my mind. The one that flares every time I extend my leg further than seems possible or twist at an angle that makes onlookers wince. But until I hear that pop, I”ll keep fighting for this.
When we get to his office, Coach doesn”t tell us to have a seat. He barely even gives us time to get through the door. ”I”m Solomoning you,” he says and looks back down at the papers on his desk like that”s all that needs to be said. Milo turns toward me. He”s from Sweden, but after years of playing in leagues all over the world, his English is perfect. There are still times he comes across an English word that he”s not familiar with though. I think this is one of those times. The problem is, I”m not familiar with it either.
”Salamandering us?” I ask.
Coach grumbles under his breath. ”Solomoning, Morrison. Everyone knows that story. The baby, you whack it in half. Bam. Now everybody wins and nobody”s fucking happy. Got it?”
Not at all, but I don”t want to be the first one to admit that. I look at Milo and give him the silent signal for ”it”s your turn to be the idiot in this conversation.” He tries to shake me off, but I”m insistent.
”Um, sorry Coach. I wasn”t born in America, so I think I might not understand this as well as you want me to.” When Milo glances back at me, I give him a head nod. Code for ”good job, playing the ”English isn”t my native language” angle.”
Coach makes it seem like lifting his head to look at us is the most arduous thing he”s had to do in a week. ”You understand me just fine, right Morrison?” Thankfully, he doesn”t pause long enough to force an answer from me. ”We”re splitting the playing time. Half and half. Both of you guys are the number one goalie. At least for now. Like the baby.” He makes a slow slash with his hand, and now we both finally know what he”s talking about.
”Of course. I knew that. Good decision. Thanks Coach.” I clap Milo on the shoulder as we walk out of the office. ”Just like the baby.”
”The baby. Right.”
As soon as we”re out of Coach”s earshot, I look over my shoulder at Milo, who”s trailing behind me in the hallway. ”So, what do you think?”
”I think I should be the starter. What do you think?”
”I think I should be.”
He slaps me on the back. ”But I think you should be the starter too. So sharing with you is a good thing.”
”Agreed.” I pivot to smile at him, walking backward for the last few feet to the dressing room. And that”s exactly why I don”t see the person coming out. I just feel them bounce off my back. ”Oh, I”m sorry! Are you okay?” I turn back around and see Lily taking a couple of awkward steps to the side to catch herself before she falls.
”Are you trying to injure me before the Charity Bee this afternoon, Morrison?”
She regains her balance quickly, but that doesn”t stop me from taking advantage of the opportunity to reach for her. ”Sorry. Kayden paid me to throw the event this year and make it look like an accident. Be sure you don”t check your brake line before you leave here today. That way, it”ll be a surprise when you crash on your way home.”
Even though we’re the only ones who will understand it, her cheeks still turn pink at my reference to her accident. It”s the new most adorable thing I”ve ever seen. But I think that every time I see her do anything. She”s the other reason this week has been insane.
Spending that day on the sofa, just being there for her, was incredible. Her body fit perfectly into mine, like we were designed for each other. And the way she felt pressed up against me? The desire that rolled through me every time she shifted her weight? I”ve thought of that several times while lying in bed at night. Plus, two times in the shower. But that”s fantasy. The reality is that we have to work together, and as much as I care about her—as much as I want more—we”re friends. That”s all she wants.
In the times I”m not around her, I can almost talk myself into settling for that. But then she texts me some silly meme. Or my attention drifts to her at the side of the ice during a practice, and she turns toward me at just that moment, like she can somehow sense my stare. There are even a couple of times when she starts to give me that pretty smile of hers before she catches herself. Those times make being only friends seem impossible.
”You give the word, Lily, and I”ll take this guy out,” Milo says and reminds me that he”s still right here. ”I have connections in the Swedish mafia.”
”Milo, I doubt if Sweden has a mafia.”
”That”s what they want you to think.” He jabs a finger playfully into my chest. ”Say the word, Lily. I could be the starting goalie if you do.”
Her eyes go wide as she looks at me for just a second before turning to Milo. ”Thanks, Milo. I kinda need this one around. At least for the afternoon. After that, though…” Her words trail off. Milo chuckles and walks to his stall. Lily and I watch him as he slings his bag over his shoulder and walks out with a wave to both of us. ”Brant? Brant! Oh my god, you did it?” Her volume goes up with each word.
I hold out my hand to stop her before she starts screaming in celebration. I would love to hear her screaming my name, though. Fuck, I need to keep this under control. I can”t do that if I stay alone with her in this dressing room for much longer. ”Coach is Salomoning us.”
”Oh, like King Solomon. Co-starters.”
”How did you get that?” I ask. She just rolls her shoulder like it wasn”t difficult. ”Maybe his east coast accent made it hard to understand when he said it. Anyway, yeah, we”re splitting the starting role.”
I”d never understood what people meant when they say a person”s face lights up, but now, looking at her, I get it. ”That”s so great, Brant! Way to go!”
”I”m kind of—you”re right. It is good.” It feels wrong to tell her I”m disappointed when she”s so excited for me. And honestly, she”s not wrong. I”m coming back from a major injury, and Milo had the best season of his career last year. This is a good outcome. For both of us.
”Teams are going to be scared to face you and the Spider.”
”The Spider?” I ask. ”Is that what people are calling Milo?” I”ve never heard anyone call him that, but Lily is always talking to people around the arena when she”s not busy working. Maybe it”s something new.
”Not yet. Just me. You”ve seen the way he blocks shots, right? He looks like he has eight arms out there.”
Oh. Not sure how I feel about her being the one to start this nickname for him. Actually, I know exactly how I feel about it, but I have no right to feel that way. ”So what”s mine?”
She waits beside me as I take up my bag. It would feel so natural to put my other arm around her and walk her out to the parking lot. So natural and so wrong. ”Your what?” she asks.
”Nickname. What nickname did you give me? The Wall? The Big Stop? The Credits, because there”s nothing past me?”
”The Credits?” She tries her best to hold back her laugh, but it finally bursts out. ”You”re really, really bad at nicknames, you know that? But I don”t have one for you. You”re Brant.”
”Brant?” I hold the door to the parking lot open for her. ”Just my name?”
She spins as smoothly as if she were on ice and walks backward so she can face me. ”I like your name.” A shy smile spreads across her face, and I”m glad I don”t have a nickname. ”I already know what you”re going to say,” she says, ”but I want to point out, again, that you don”t have to pick me up for the Bee today.”
”And like I told you every time we”ve talked about this, I”ll pick you up at one. Dress comfortably. I don”t know what the challenges are, but I”m sure they”ll be easier in runners than in high heels.”
”Ha ha.” She flips me off with one hand while she unlocks her car with the other. ”You”ve seen me exactly one time in heels.”
”Maybe again someday.” My mind has obviously decided to take my dick”s side because it plays the image of her wearing those shoes. Those shoes and nothing else as she crosses the room toward me. Keeping us ”just friends” is going to kill me.
”Maybe. I”ll be ready at one.”
I wait until she drives off before I get into my car. Then I wait a couple minutes more before I leave. I need the extra space between us, or I”m going to lose my mind.