Page 24 of On His Team

Cole looks up first, because he’s standing right there at the sharpener. “What’s up, Laurens?”

“Eyelet’s gone.” Rowan puts the skate on the bench and turns it so the outside of the boot faces up. “Top one, outside. Donovan punched it on the second, and it held for about a week.”

Cole picks it up and looks at it with his thumb over the spot. “Yeah, it’s not the rivet. It’s the leather. There’s nothing left around it to hold anything.” He turns it over. “How hard do you lace these?”

“Hard.”

“Yeah, well.”

“Can you do it?” Rowan asks.

“I can put a patch behind it and re-rivet it. It’ll hold. It won’t be pretty.” Cole’s already moving toward the back bench. “Give me a minute. Ten, maybe.”

“Okay.”

Cole asks, “You go into the boards on that side?”

“New Year’s Day.”

“Right.” Cole disappears behind the shelving. “You should’ve brought it then.”

Rowan doesn’t answer that, which is what I’d have done too.

I finish the guard I’m holding, put it in the bin, and walk over.

“Laurens,” I greet.

“Hey, G.”

I look at the skate on the bench. “What did you do?”

“Nothing.”

“He definitely did something,” Cole says from the back.

“Sounds about right,” I say.

Rowan makes a sound that’s about eighty percent of a laugh and leans back against the counter with his arms crossed. He’s in a T-shirt and shorts with his practice socks already on, which means he was three-quarters dressed when he found out he couldn’t lace up.

I go back to the bin.

“You start classes today?” he asks me, filling the silence.

“Yeah.” I nod.

“How’d it go?”

I raise my eyebrows. “Well, statistics is already ruining my life.”

He tips his head. “Ruined your brother’s, too.”

I say, “Ha-ha.”

“You have Schaefer?”

I stop with a blade guard in my hand and look at him. “Yeah.”

“Had him sophomore year.”