Page 2 of The Unexpected Lineup (Lost in Translation #2)

I WASN’T EXPECTING A MASKED MAN TO ANSWER MY CALL TONIGHT

RASMUS

Ten weeks before the trade

The last Friday in October

I ’m still riding the high from yesterday’s late-night win against the Woodpeckers, one of the hockey teams in the City, as I head to meet my college teammate, Felix. He also had a great game last night when his team, the Peacocks, beat the Shamrock in Boston.

The best thing about New York City is that there’s always something new to do and explore. The city buzzes with an electric energy that pulls you in. It’s a far cry from the more laidback, quiet rhythm back home in Minnesota, where I’ve lived for the past six years.

The small coffee shop Felix mentioned in his text is tucked away on a quieter side street.

As I step inside, the mixed aroma of roasted beans and freshly baked goods greets me.

The menu includes Swedish-style cinnamon buns, and I can’t help but wonder if they’re as authentic as kanelbullar back in Uppsala .

I spot Felix near the entrance, his medium brown hair a little tamer than during our college days.

Other than that, he looks the same as he has for the past ten years of our friendship.

He’s wearing his signature dark-framed glasses and a purple Peacocks hoodie.

Some things never change—he only dresses up during game days.

“Rasmus,” he exclaims when he notices me, standing up to greet me with an easy hug. “I almost didn’t recognize you without that beard!”

“I lost a damn bet last night and had to shave it off,” I explain as I return the hug and slide into the booth across from him. “So, goalie life still hasn’t worn you down?”

Felix shakes his head, amused that I’d even ask that. “Not a chance. Although, I’ll admit, the Brooklyn traffic tests my patience every day.”

“Fair enough. Have you ordered yet?”

“Yeah, got us both black coffees and cinnamon buns. They should bring them to the table.”

“It’s like you know me.”

He chuckles nervously. “Yeah, well, besides Jasper and Em, you’re one of my closest friends.”

And there it is. His first mention of Jasper ?kerman, our former college teammate, his current teammate, and the guy everyone thinks I hate with passion.

The truth is way more complicated. That’s why we never talk about him.

Heck, I didn’t even know Felix was still close friends with both of us before last year when ?kerman broke my nose during a heated game .

I keep telling myself I don’t care, but somehow, I still ask. “How has he settled into your team this year?”

My German friend narrows his eyes suspiciously. “You really want to talk about him, or are you trying to be a typical American with all that small talk?”

“I genuinely want to know. Even if I can’t stand the guy, I’m still interested in knowing how your team is clicking this season.”

“All’s good. How about you? Still enjoying being a Lynx?”

That’s a million-dollar question. Well, in my case, it’s a twelve million dollars per season question.

Sure, I’ve been blessed to have played six seasons with the Lynx.

But it’s getting sort of old—the never-changing routine and predictability are tiring me.

This has been the longest time I have played for one team.

Just as I’m getting ready to answer, the server brings our drinks and food. I stir my coffee, pondering my answer.

“Honestly?” He nods, so I continue. “I sometimes wish they’d trade me so I could play on another team for a change. There, I said it.”

My friend sits straighter, his full attention on me. “Wait, are you unhappy with your team? I thought you were friends with the guys, and there haven’t been any issues with the management.”

“It’s not that.” I wave my hand in dismissal. “It just feels like my life has been the same for too long. And I’m tired of playing the role of a bruiser who’s always ready to fight on ice. Then there was that case with her earlier this year.”

“Many would be happy to have that stability. But yeah, it’s obvious all that nonsense drama hasn’t helped with how you feel.”

I sigh, rubbing a hand over my clean-shaven face. It feels strange after having a beard for most of my adulthood. “I might sound ungrateful for wanting out, but that’s how it’s been feeling lately.”

“You’re allowed to feel that.” His eyes fill with sympathy. “And don’t worry, your secret stays with me.”

“I trust you, Flick.” The nickname rolls off my tongue. “Em’s actually testing the waters for a possible trade.”

As expected, a mention of our mutual friend and sports agent, Emerson Merryweather, brings redness to Felix’s cheeks. So damn cute. The guy has been pining after her since their first Business 101 class in college.

“That’s, um, good.”

“Is that all you have to say?”

“Stop. You know how things are between us.”

”Oh, trust me, I know it all too well. It’s obvious you’re not the smoothest when it comes to our dear friend Em.”

He shoots me a half-serious glare, though there’s a slight blush still lingering on his cheeks. “Well, it’s not exactly easy to do something about it after all these years.”

“Don’t overthink it, Flick. If you’re meant to be, it’ll happen. No matter how long it takes.” I pause. “But speaking of overthinking, what do you think about the trade idea?”

“If that’s what you want, then do it. Hell, maybe a change is all you need to feel normal again.”

“True.” I play with the rim of the cup mindlessly .

“You need to be sure, though. You don’t want to make a rash decision because you’re feeling restless.”

I hum at his words, letting them simmer. The conversation flows easily after, the way it always has with Felix.

Glancing at my watch an hour later, I realize I’ve stayed longer than my schedule allows. “The guys are waiting for me at the hotel, so I better get going.”

“Big plans for tonight?”

“Halloween party at some new club. Beck’s organizing everything. And I don’t even have a costume yet.”

“Classic Rasmus. Well, good luck finding something last minute. I’ll see you on the ice soon.”

“You can count on it.”

Back at the hotel, it’s easy to spot my teammates.

Beck’s the loudest of the bunch, waving me over with a grin that’s practically his default facial expression.

Lloyd and Ford are with him, arguing as always.

Lloyd, a charming flirt, knows precisely how to push Ford’s buttons.

He’s more of a silent observer type who’s always two steps ahead of the rest of us.

“About time.” Beck pretends to check his imaginary watch. “What’d you do, get lost in the big city?”

“Caught up with Felix.”

“Oh, so you spent the afternoon sleeping with the enemy,” Lloyd jokes. “How’s he doing anyway?”

“He made some sick saves at last night’s game. Other than that, he seems happy and content with his life. ”

“That’s good,” Ford comments. “Should we go before we can’t find any costumes?”

“I respect your priorities,” Beck agrees. “The party starts at eleven, and we can’t show up acting like rookies.”

The four of us head out and wander until we spot a costume shop that’s pure Halloween mayhem inside.

The store is packed with frantic last-minute customers while costumes are strewn across the aisles filled with cheap polyester and glitter.

Two ladies fight over the last Barbie dress.

Kids are running around, their parents shouting after them. It’s a madhouse.

Spotting a Joker costume right away, Beck makes a beeline for it. “That’s it. My costume. Perfectly chaotic, yet cool.”

I shake my head in amusement. “Now, the rest of us need to find ours.”

While the other two scatter to browse between the rows of racks, I stay in the superhero section, flipping through the larger-than-expected selection. It doesn’t take long until my eyes land on a black and red mask between all the other costumes.

I step toward the mirror, assessing the fit of the mask on me. My eyes and features below my nose are shown, but the rest of my face is hidden, creating a mystery.

Glancing over my shoulder at Beck, I ask, “What do you think?”

“Brooding. Mysterious. Determined.” My teammate counts with his fingers. “Yeah, that works for you.”

“Perfect. That’s exactly what I was going for.”

Lloyd passes us and gives a nod of approval at my pick. “Classic choice. Meanwhile, I’m gonna find something that gets me all the attention tonight.”

“You don’t need a costume for that,” Ford mutters, barely looking up from the shelf of Viking helmets nearby, earning a laugh from all of us.

“You guys are the worst,” Lloyd jokingly complains, though it’s clear he’s enjoying the banter between us.

Eventually, he settles on a freaking space suit, complete with a helmet, that costs more than the rest of our costumes combined. True to his movie and history-loving self, Ford decides to dress up similarly to Rick O’Connell from The Mummy .

We pay for our purchases and head back to the hotel. Beck slings an arm over my shoulder and turns to others. “Alright, boys. Tonight, we own this party. No half-measures.”

“That’s what I’m talking about.” Lloyd hoots, shaking his body to the beat of the music drifting from a nearby bar.

“If I must.” Ford sighs as he looks at our linemate. “My dream was to have a quiet night in, but I should’ve known you’d want to go out on Halloween.”

“Cheer up, buttercup. Anything can happen tonight. You could miss meeting the love of your life or something just as cheesy if you stay at the hotel,” Lloyd teases.

Back in my room, I straighten my outfit, giving myself a once-over in the full-length mirror. The black suit jacket fits snugly around my muscled body, tailored to my build, while the mask casts a shadow over my face. For tonight, I’m stepping into another identity. I can be whoever I choose to be.

My phone rings with a FaceTime call and I see my cousin’s name pop up on the screen. Not taking the mask off, I answer with a deep hello.

“Holy shit,” Manuel’s awed voice says in Spanish. “I wasn’t expecting a masked man to answer my call tonight.”

My only cousin is a high school senior living outside Mexico City. His big dream is to earn a scholarship to play college soccer in the U.S. We’ve made a deal: if that doesn’t work out, I’ll cover his tuition and help him through the visa process.

His mom, my tía Marisol, is my mom’s younger sister. She left Sweden for Mexico in the late nineties to study abroad and never returned.

Between the two of them, they’re all the family I have left. I lost my dad before I ever got the chance to meet him or his side of the family, and my mom left when I was still a kid. After that, my maternal grandparents raised me in public housing on the outskirts of Uppsala until they passed.

“So glad I could surprise you. How’s it going, primo?”

“We won today’s match.” He puffs his chest proudly. “Coach said it was one of my best games of the season. He’s sending footage to scouts, so fingers crossed.”

He’s still wearing his jersey, his short black hair damp, so he must have just come home. We try to chat once or twice a week, depending on our busy schedules.

“That’s amazing, Manu. I’m so proud of you. Keep working hard, and you’ll get there.” I adjust the mask, the snug fit unfamiliar to me. “How’s school? Remember that you can’t only focus on soccer if you want to secure those scholarships.”

My cousin groans, his happiness deflating. “Yeah, yeah. Mom’s on my case about grades, as usual. She’s getting me a tutor for math, paying for it with the money you sent us.”

“That’s good.”

He rolls his eyes, showing his age. “Enough about me. What’s with the suit and mask?”

“Heading to the Halloween party with the guys.”

Manuel leans closer, smile widening again. “You know, it’s the first time I've seen a masked man with a man bun, but it doesn’t look too bad if I’m being honest.”

I snort. “Thanks, primo.”

He lowers his voice, so his mom doesn’t hear him. “And the ladies? You must have an entourage, right?”

It’s my turn to roll my eyes. Oh, how I remember having a one-track mind at his age as well. “I’m here to have fun with my team, not pick up women.”

“Yeah, sure. Do you actually believe that yourself?”

Before I can respond, there’s a knock on my hotel room door.

“Gotta go. Keep me posted on everything, okay?”

“You got it, Ras,” he replies. “And hey, have fun tonight. You deserve it.”

“And you keep studying and playing hard.”

“Will do. Love you, primo.”

“Love you too, Manu. ”

I end the call, slip my phone into the front pocket of my suit and stare at my reflection one last time.

A masked man, but with a man bun. Manu’s right; it’s a little ridiculous.

But maybe tonight that’s exactly what I need.

It’s a chance to step outside my comfort zone, to forget the weight of the past twelve months and the expectations that follow me everywhere.

The knock on the door comes again, firmer this time. I take a breath, secure the mask in place, and step forward. It's time to see where the night takes me.