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Auden:Maple Leaf Airlines is dead to me
Auden:They lost my luggage
One glance at my surroundings reminds me, this isn’t the time to have a conversation about my lost suitcase. I never thought I’d be reminding Elliot to focus on hockey. I doubt it’d be possible to find a more dedicated player at any level.
Auden:Stop texting me and score another goal
Elliot:You see the hallway to the left of the vending machines by the skate rentals?
I scan the arena, spotting the row of vending machines by the main doors I came in.
Auden:Yes
Elliot:Go in the last door on the left. I’ll meet you there in two minutes.
Auden:What?
Auden:You’re in the middle of a game!
Auden:Elliot??
No dots appear. I huff a sigh. What am I supposed to do now? I glance over at Elliot’s family. His sisters have all left, either to the restroom or for snacks. Josie and Jeff are talking to a couple seated behind them. Josie glances over when I stand. “I’ll be right back,” I tell her.
She nods and smiles.
I weave through the crowd in the direction of the vending machines. Passing them, I turn down the hallway and make my way to the last door on the left. I turn the knob and open it to reveal an empty locker room. It’s small, with just a single row of lockers on the far wall separated by another door, and two wooden benches taking up the bulk of the room. The walls are painted a light shade of gray and littered with faded motivational posters. I’ve barely had time to register anything else about my surroundings when the door amidst the row of lockers swings open and Elliot appears.
“Hey, Denny.”
I’ve been nervous about this moment. Actually, that’s amassiveunderstatement. Seeing him has been a constant worry in the back of my mind ever since I booked what turned into the plane ride from hell.
I’ve talked to Elliot Reid every single day since I met him. I can’t say that about another person on this planet. We text, we talk on the phone, we video-chat—but this is the first time I’ve seen him in person in nearly a year. I expected it to feel awkward. It doesn’t.
He doesn’t seem to think so, either. He walks straight to me and hugs me tightly. We simply stand like that for a moment, soaking in each other’s physical presence. Most people have to talk to me to elicit any reaction. Somehow, Elliot just being in the same room makes me happy. There’s no disconnect from the strangers we were in person before and the friends who talk about everything from his father’s abandonment to my vegetarianism.
Elliot draws back and grins down at me. “It is so fucking good to see you,” he says.
“Yeah, you too.” I was worried he might play it cool, but this is the guy who texted me twenty minutes after asking me for my number. I should have known better.
It’s because you’re friends, I tell myself.
I don’t think twice about how to act around Lana. She’s not a six-foot-two Canadian hockey player with a six-pack and a roguish grin, though.
“I’ve got to go. I’m kind of in the middle of something.”
I laugh. “Yeah, I noticed.”
“I just wanted to give you this.” He hands me a ball of gray fabric. “Getting treated for hypothermia is not part of the plan for this visit.”
He made aplanfor my visit? Or is that just a saying? I figured he knows he’s the reason I came back, but I sure as hell didn’t tell him so.
“Thanks.” I unroll the material, which turns out to be a sweatshirt withCanmore Hockeyon the front. I flip it over to see his name and number on the back.
“Um, you want me to wearthis?”
“You’d rather freeze?”
I raise both eyebrows. Elliot raises his right back. He knows exactly what I mean; he’s the furthest thing from socially inept. “People will think…”
