6. Constant Reminder

CONSTANT REMINDER

PARKER

The locker room always smells like the same three things after practice: Tape adhesive, sweat that’s been baked into cotton, and whatever cleaning solution the arena staff uses that never quite gets the job done.

I sit on the bench with one skate still half-laced, rolling my shoulders back until I hear a soft pop in my neck. The guys are still talking behind me, voices bouncing off the tile and metal lockers, but I’ve already shifted into the part of my morning where I’m only half here.

It’s a good team this year, which matters so much more than people consider. Our biggest personalities just so happen to be the youngest guys, who act like they were raised on a completely different planet than the rest of us.

Calvin Malloy is currently trying to tape his stick with the concentration of a surgeon, tongue poking out slightly as he leans over.

The kid is loud in a way that never quite turns off, even when he’s quiet, which, arguably, is what makes him a good goalie.

Bishop keeps correcting him from two lockers down, not even looking up from his own gear.

Their little bromance is the cutest thing ever.

I don’t think I’ve seen Bish take another mentorship as seriously as this one.

Our toughest defenseman, Mickey Rogers, sits with his back against the bench, elbows on his knees, and is always scrolling on his phone with a stillness that makes him look detached…until he says something insanely stupid.

And then there’s Vandy.

It’s a sight I’ve seen countless times by now.

Robbie van Deusen pacing while he talks, gloves still on, one skate half off like he forgot what order shoes go in.

He’s always alert in a way that makes you think he’s either one second away from scoring a hat trick or getting benched for saying he banged an opponent’s mom.

They’re good kids, but they also treat me like I’m a combination of captain, therapist, and free Uber. I’d do just about anything for them…except answer my phone past midnight.

My phone buzzes in my stall, but I don’t look at it. I already know it’s from Anders.

“Alright, fuckers. Listen up,” I say, finally standing up, cracking my neck once more.

The room settles into a silence that always kinda gives me a boost to the ego.

“Minnesota tonight. I won’t waste your time with a speech, ‘cause Bish is the woman in our relationship and he’s better at all that soft shit. ”

“Fuck off,” Bish mutters from his corner.

I swear he looks so much older than thirty-five. He’s got these little salt and pepper flakes in his roots that give him a false sense of authority. If I had to guess, his face is probably prematurely hardened from the stress of having a million kids and an annoying ex-wife to deal with.

“They’ve got a strong team this season,” I continue, ignoring Bish’s scowl. “But we’re stronger. We’re faster—”

“And we’re two cups richer,” Malloy hoots, projecting his voice for all to hear.

“Fuck Minnesota,” the guys all echo in unison. Some louder than others, a couple of laughs breaking through the end.

The energy spikes immediately after that, like a switch is flipped. The locker room always gets this way after I pitch one of my obligatory captain pep talks.

I grab my bag and walk through it all.

Honestly, I could care less if we win or lose tonight.

I’ve been in such a rut these past few games that it’s starting to take a toll on me.

My recovery times are down, I always come home a little sorer than I should…

I swear, it’s like this constant reminder I’m almost thirty-nine.

I’m practically elderly compared to the other guys on the team.

My phone buzzes again when I’m halfway to the parking lot. I exhale through my nose, finally looking down. I already know who it is. I just don’t know why I still react like I don’t.

Anders

switched your laundry for you bc you forgot again

idk if I’ll be home for dinner tonight so i could be coming in late

The message is painfully mundane, which is probably why I read it twice—just in case I’m missing something.

Me

Thank you sweetheart

Are you trying to tell me you have plans

Anders responds almost immediately.

Anders

yeah i have other friends petchka

more than you

Me

Wow

Are you mad at me or something

Anders

why would i be mad at you

did you fuck someone

Me

Oh my god just forget I asked

Anders

well i asked

did you

***

just curious

Me

Calm down Rambo

Just make sure you swing by Verona’s at some point in your busy schedule

Your brother said he needs a proof of life

Believe it or not, I really do like having him in my space. He’s also a decent roommate. He keeps his messes contained to their designated spaces, and it’s nice knowing I won’t be coming home to an empty house.

Anders

oh ok yeah i forgot he’s here

i’ll move some things around

Me

Good. You do that

You are coming home, though, right?

Tonight

And it’s nice coming home to someone like him.

Anders

yeah petka just leave your door unlocked and i’ll come smooch you goodnight

oh wait… nvm friends ARENT supposed to do that

silly me

you’re safe for now petchkins

Me

Oh thank god I was so scared

For the most part, I mean.

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