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“Dude, everyone knows about the leg. You don’t think they’ll target me?”
“If they do, I’ll handle it,” I say, my voice firm.
“I can’t ask you to do that. You really think you’ll last in the league like that?” He squeezes my shoulder and shakes his head. “Zeke, I know how hard it is before a fight for you. I know how it makes you sick to your stomach and how it eats at you. I can’t ask you to go into every single game like that. It’s not fair, and it would be bad for the team.”
I take a deep breath, and we continue on quietly. Sweat trickles down my back as the heat of the day seeps into the canyon.
“I’m going to be an assistant for the men’s hockey team at Portland University,” Freddy says. There’s pride in the way he squares his shoulders. And defensiveness. But also, a resounding sense of calm.
“Yeah?”
We crest another hill and the roar of a waterfall fills the space. Through the thick brush I can just make out the spray from the lower falls ahead, and we slow as the slope gets too steep for Freddy. I shift in front of him and hold out an arm, just in case. The path curves to the left, while a section of rock juts out into the canyon, overlooking the huge waterfall.
Below, people swim in the clear pool, sunning on rocks around it and splashing in the fresh mountain water. I pull out my water bottle and take a long drink as Freddy does the same.
“So, what? You gonna coach?”
“I’m going to take business law classes.”
“Yeah?”
“I want to be an agent,” he says. “Help guys new to the league to prepare for when it’s time to be done.”
My chest tightens and a now-familiar wave of anxiety rolls over me. But I don’t dig into it. I just nod and pat him on the back.
“You’d be great at that.”
“We’ll see,” he says as he tucks his water back into his backpack. “You’d be great at it too.”
“I don’t know about agenting,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest and staring at the waterfall. I can see why this is a popular hike. It’s so peaceful here. Even if it’s only a mile in, it feels like another world. I could get used to this.
“You could take classes, you know,” he says quietly.
We shift off the overlook and down to the pool below to make room for a group of teenagers who want to take selfies.
“Me? Take classes?”
“Sure. Why not? I know you’ve regretted not finishing.”
More so in recent days because being a college dropout doesn’t seem like something worth bragging about to Faye’s family.
“I’m not really a school guy, you know that,” I say as I sit on the edge of the pool and take off my shoes and socks. The water is ice cold but feels good between my toes.
“Yeah, but one class at a time? And just classes you’re into? Could be different.”
I hum and nod, considering his words.
“You let me know how it goes for you,” I say, stepping into the pool so that the water comes up to my ankles.
Freddy edges over to a boulder and sits, stretching out his legs. The scar on his leg is long and gnarly from where they had to insert the rods.
“You ready for camp, then?” he asks.
“Sure,” I say with a grunt. “Less excited without you there.”
“Is Faye coming to the home opener?” he asks.
My spine stiffens. Things had been so off between me and Faye with all the Megan stuff and when I got to the Fourth of July party and saw her and Freddy talking in the dark, I sort of lost my hold on reality. When I woke up in Faye’s bed, smelling her all around me, I wondered if I’d fucked everything up.
