Page 90 of Josh’s Play

“I’ve been thinking a lot about that. I think that’s because the last chapter was just written: Cam at that table signing a contract.”

“But what about your journey?” Could she have offered me a better setup? I demurred at first, playing humble, letting her know that I understood that the talent would always take priority.

She smiled at my response but pressed her point. “Both of you come off as very engaging in your discussions. It’s not just Cam’s story that needs an ending.”

It’s our story that needs an ending, I thought but obviously didn’t say.

“After having very little interest in sports growing up, I’ve learned that the human-interest element of sports journalism fascinates me. Watching both my brother and Cam soar in their respective sports? It’s been an honor to watch and a joy to write about. But the best ending to my story, from a strictly narrative perspective of wrapping the thing up in a tidy package, would be if my journey mirrored Cam’s, and I ended up working for the Blizzard.”

The director laughed. “I guess I walked right into that one.”

“Just say the word, and I’ll reach out to Cam about recording one more episode.”

Laughing, she stood and held out her hand. I followed and shook it. “We’ll be in touch, Josh. And good luck to your brother; he graduates high school this year, right?”

“No, actually, he's just a junior.”

“In high school? Really? And he’s got the scouts clocking him already? Impressive.”

I smiled and thanked her. “Yes, he is.”

I met Cam in one of the long gray hallways, but there were people milling around and congratulating him. His parents invited me to dinner, but I declined as my entire family was in town for graduation. I hadn’t told anyone else about Cam yet. Even Devon had agreed to only share with Jamie that Josh and the “fucking closeted hockey player,” as I’d apparently called Cam when I was drunk over Thanksgiving, had worked our shit out.

I had invited the Ryans to my graduation party. Cam and I had talked about him meeting my friends and me at Lefty’s after his announcement the night before graduation, but he’d worried that some of the press might still be around and said he would spend the evening with his family and see me after graduation the next day.

I spent the whole night drunk texting him and missing him terribly.

Shelley: Hey, fucking closeted hockey player, we need to record the final podcast. And then we need to find a place where there are no parents, no roommates, no fucking press, and the biggest bottle of lube that the internet will sell.

Finn: Make sure you eat something, babe, and hydrate.

Shelley: Can I eat your ass? Noooo, you have to eat mine. We haven’t done that yet. But I also need to fuck you. So I have to eat your ass. We’ve got a lot to do!

Shelley: [an image of the number 69]

Finn: Dude, I’m WITH MY PARENTS.

Finn: And my little brothers. STOP TEXTING that shit.

Shelley: Less texting, more drinking. Got it!

Finn: Water! Drink more water, and for God’s sake, order some breadsticks.

Shelley: You see your mistake, right?

Finn [image of a flashing question mark]

Shelley: The only breadstick I want belongs to yooouuuu.

Finn: OMFG. How drunk are you? Are you still at Lefty’s? Are you ok to get home?

Shelley: Very. Yes and yes. Devon’s brother is here and some of our friends. I’ve walked the path from Lefty’s to Cortland many a time. We’ll be fine.

I was so not fine.

I don’t really remember the walk back to the dorm or what time it was, but I do remember sharing the common bathroom with Devon and his twin brother Gavin, who was in town for graduation, as we very loudly got ready for bed. We’d borrowed an air mattress from my parents, and Gavin was staying with us. While the brothers settled in to sleep, I spent some time in the common room, only slightly drunkenly recording what I thought would be a brilliant contribution to our final podcast.

Phones and alarms were blaring within three hours of my returning to the dorm room and slipping into my bed. The next few hours were a flurry of activity, punctuated by excruciating pain, which was not at all helped when Devon and I found my mother backstage at the graduation ceremony, and she gave me at least one of her famous love taps before I could protect my head with my mortar board.