Overnight Sensation(83)

“That wasn’t a fair fight,” my sister argues, and I bristle that she’s taking his side.

“You watched?”

“It’s on the Hockey Fights website,” she says.

“Really? What’s my rating?” I hear myself ask. I can’t help it. I was born with a competitive streak.

“You have fifty-five percent!” she hoots. “That’s better than O’Doul got in his fight.”

Unbelievable. “Then it was a fair fight. Statistics don’t lie.”

“Sure they do!” my sister scoffs. “Everyone loves an underdog. Plus, that butt wiggle…” She giggles.

I groan. “Okay, forget the fish. The bigger problem is that Jason is sad.” He hasn’t been the same since Georgia told him about the transplant recipients. “I swear he hasn’t looked me in the eye in four days.” We’re in Seattle, on the final leg of our road trip. And Jason is just not himself. He seems cold inside. “I’ve asked him what’s wrong, and he says nothing.”

My sister makes a sympathetic sound. “The male ego cannot be vulnerable. He’s wrestling with something, but it’s not in his nature to tell you.”

I know she’s right. But I hate it anyway. “What should I do?”

“Patience is your only choice. Oh, and sex. Maybe you can boink him into a better mood.”

“Maybe,” I whisper. I’ve had to stay with the travel crew these past two nights. Coach gave the boys a curfew after two losses in a row. “Tomorrow we go home to Brooklyn. Then there’s the Delilah Spark concert tomorrow night.”

“I’m so jealous!” Jana says. “Second-row seats with some hockey hotties at a concert? You poor thing.”

The ticket cost a fortune, though. “First, I have to fight a salmon.”

“What?”

“Seattle’s mascot is the Sockeye Salmon. The West Coast really likes their fish.”

My sister snorts. “Please tell me it won’t turn out like the last one?”

“It’s fine. I met the mascot already. Swear to God, I outweigh the guy. He’s a fifty-year-old ex-circus clown. It’s going to be fine. We’re doing a mime routine where he’s selling popcorn, and I don’t have the money to pay for it.”

“Just like your real life!” Jenna says cheerfully.

“Yeah.”

“Chin up, Heidi Jo. Give your man some space, and kick that salmon’s hindquarters.”

“Will do.”





A few hours later, everything goes off without a hitch. Brooklyn beats Seattle 3-1. Jason gets a goal. And I spend two and a half minutes on the ice, dressed in a bear suit, pretending to steal popcorn from a salmon. It doesn’t make a lick of sense, but I don’t get another black eye so I’m counting it as a win.

I shower quickly and then help out in the equipment room, pitching in with Jimbo to pack the hockey sticks into their protective tube and gathering all the gear we can before the players are finished in the locker room.

“Tonight we tell Silas about the concert, right?” Jimbo asks as we stack empty Gatorade bottles into their carrying carton. “He’s gonna die.”

“Yes! It’s going to be epic.” Our flight is tomorrow morning. We take off at eight a.m. and land at four thirty. I have a reservation for twenty people at Brother Jimmy’s Barbecue for six, and doors open at the concert at seven. “You’re going, right?”

“Totes!” says Jimbo, grabbing a hockey stick that we missed on the first pass. “Bayer went home to his dad’s place while his knee heals. So he gave me his ticket.”

“Nice.”

“They’re done in the showers,” Jimbo says, peering into the next room. “Let’s get the towels. Do you think they’ll wait to tell Silas until we make it back to the hotel?”

“They better!” I say. “I want to see his face.”

It takes us another hour to clear the locker room of Brooklyn gear. When it’s all packed away on the truck, Jimbo and I grab a taxi. As we head for the hotel, the first snow flurries I’ve seen this year dance through the fresh air.

“I’ll take a video when you tell him,” Jimbo says. “We can immortalize this moment.”

“Deal,” I say, grabbing my phone. “I’m texting Trevi to let him know we’re on our way. He wants to be the one who breaks the news. He’s going to sing a Delilah Spark song in the bar and then hand over the tickets.”

“Cool. How come you don’t have a Katt phone like the rest of us?” Jimbo asks.

“I covet the Katt phone, but I’m not an official employee of the team.”

“You’re not?” Jimbo yelps. “You’ve done every job there is for the team. You practically run this place.”

“Dude, I will have the Katt phone or die trying.”

He laughs as the taxi pulls up in front of the hotel. I pay the driver, file the receipt away in my wallet and climb out. Trevi has replied to my text: We’re right inside at the bar. But come and see me first. There’s something you need to know.

Hmm. I don’t like the sound of that. But now we’ve arrived, and as soon as Jimbo holds the door open for me I spot Trevi and Jason standing shoulder to shoulder, shot glasses in hand. I hurry over to them. “Hey guys! Great game!” I stand on my tiptoes and kiss Jason on the chin.