Page 7

CHAPTER 7

Charlie

We play the Red Wings tonight and I’m currently trying to get in the zone. I have game days on lockdown after years and years of perfecting them. Typically I don’t talk much to anyone—although I guess that isn’t much different from the day to day for me—and I have a strict routine I follow.

I’m up before sunrise for a workout, something that warms my body up like swimming or a light jog, then I eat breakfast. My private chef prepares the same thing for me before every game—pancakes topped with Greek yogurt and berries, turkey bacon, and a protein shake. Then I head to the rink for pregame skate and practice.

There’s this thing about hockey players and superstitions, the two go hand in hand. Even though I don’t necessarily buy into all of that, I’ve done this routine for so long that I’m not sure I want to know what would happen if I switched it up.

I climb into my car and navigate past the random daylist that Spotify created for me titled “Sleepy Weepy Depress Sesh” and turn on my game day playlist. It’s a mix of artists like the Lumineers, Bastille, and a few others. I need something calming to put me in the right headspace. The familiar music relaxes me and I drop my shoulders, breathing deeply. The Red Wings are a good team and their record so far this season has been solid, but then again so has ours.

As I arrive at Madison Square Garden, I park my car and climb out, grab my gear, and then head inside. Most of the guys tend to arrive two to three hours before the game, but I like to be here earlier. We have about five hours until go time, and being in the building helps me turn off the outside noise and get in the zone.

I get settled in the locker room and make sure I have everything I need, then visit one of the physical therapists down in the gym. I had an MCL injury about a year ago and they’ve been working on helping me heal it ever since. Grayson pats the table and I hop up, allowing him to feel around on my left knee.

“Having any pain?” he asks as he works.

“Nothing that’s any different from normal usage strain.”

“Any swelling or increased instability?” He pulls my leg out straight, then bends it back again.

“Nope.”

“Good. Lay back for me.”

I do as he asks and he continues working on my knee, bending and stretching it.

“Any plans this weekend?”

I cringe a little at his effort to engage in small talk. It’s a toss up on whether or not he’ll want to chat while we work, and while I appreciate his desire to get to know me and build a relationship, I don’t want to wade through a conversation right now. But I’m not a jerk, so I indulge him.

“Nothing special. I’ll probably just hang out at home, watch a movie or something. My sister and I are hanging out this weekend. She’s about to leave on a work trip to Paris.”

“Oh, no way? What does she do for work?”

I breathe a sigh of relief. I could brag on Alana for days. “She’s an editor for Impress magazine.”

“Seriously? My girlfriend loves that magazine.”

I smile and swell with pride for my sister. “Yeah, they’re headed to Paris to assist the European branch of the magazine. Should be a pretty cool trip.”

“Sounds like it.”

He helps me off the table and leads me through a few strengthening exercises. I thank him afterwards and head to the treadmill to walk and warm up a bit. I don’t go too fast, being sure not to push it or exert myself, but I keep it at a brisk walk in order to get my muscles moving.

After about an hour there, I head back to the locker room. Guys are starting to arrive for the game and as the typical locker room banter begins, I find myself trying to find a spot to interject. I need to be trying to make friends, but the thought of interrupting and chiming it makes my skin crawl.

Turns out I don’t have to worry about that, because Soren addresses me a few minutes later.

“How was your night at home, Cade?” He doesn’t say it in a condescending way in order to shame me for staying in, but he asks like he’s genuinely curious. I’m still a bit skeptical he isn’t trying to make fun of me so I decide to answer like he’s seriously asking.

“It was nice. Watched a movie and drank a beer in silence.”

“Sounds nice, man. These guys were the opposite of silence.”

“I’m not sure you guys know the definition of silence.”

No one speaks and it’s awkward. I start to frantically search back through my words to find where I went wrong when Theo Adams, one of the goalies, interrupts my overthinking.

“Cade. Did you just make a joke?”

They’re freaking out…because I made a joke? Am I seriously that cold around these guys that they were shocked because I tried to be funny? Damn.

“Uh, yeah, I guess I was.”

The room breaks out in loud laughter, so loud that it causes me to jump, and I find myself smiling at my successful attempt to make friends. This isn’t going horribly.

“Why don’t you come with us tonight after the game?” Soren asks. The temptation to turn him down is strong, but I resist. I can’t get closer to these guys by staying at home and never going out with them.

“I’ll think about it.”

“That’s what I’m talking about,” Theo says, punching me in the shoulder. “Let’s go kick some Red Wing ass!” The shouts around us fire me up and I turn, getting my gear on. Maybe this isn’t as impossible as I thought it was.