Page 19 of Play Dirty

“It’s wall to wall people right now, I’m sure,” he agreed.

“Wouldn’t know,” I shrugged as I twirled my fork. “They didn’t invite me.”

It came out more bitter than I intended. Not that I cared.

“Yeah,” the goalie acknowledged. He paused for a moment. “They should’ve, though.”

The sentiment felt sincere. I was still processing it when Sebastian crossed to the stove, sniffing. He took one look into the still-steaming pot and nodded, appreciatively.

“You made that?” he pointed.

“Yeah.”

“It smells… good.”

I let out a short laugh. “As opposed to bad?”

“No, I mean—”

“Don’t worry,” I let him off the hook. “I’ll take it.”

He grabbed a bowl, hesitated, and looked at me.

“Mind?”

I gestured grandly at the stove.

“Help yourself.”

Sebastian loaded his bowl, grabbed a fork and a spoon, and sat down directly across from me. For a minute or two we ate in silence, enjoying our dinner. And for once, the silence wasn’t awkward.

“What’s this crunch?” he asked.

“Crushed peanuts.”

“Nice.”

We ate some more, and I began to enjoy the quiet that stretched between us. The two of us were here alone because we were both new to the team. Not exactly on the same footing, but close enough to feel kinship.

“You were asking about the goalie,” he said eventually.

I looked up. “I was?”

“Upstairs. Yesterday.”

I wasn’t sure what he meant, but I wasn’t about to stop him. I went back to eating.

“His name was Carter Sutherland,” he went on. “Been here a few years. Didn’t make a lot of noise, but you didn’t worry when he was in net.”

“That good?”

“Good enough,” Sebastian slurped his soup. “He was solid. Not flashy. Just… consistent.”

This was all good info. I filed it away.

“Then what happened?”

He shrugged slightly.