Callan grinned at his dubious expression. “It’s true. In both sports you’ve got a goal at either end of the court—or rink—and you’re trying to score on it. You’ve got five positions in basketball, right? The center, two forwards, and two guards.”
“Yeah.”
“In hockey, it’s the same. You’ve got the center and two forwards, called wingers, and two ‘guards’ or defenseman, who protect the goalie.”
“No shit?”
Callan wasn’t sure he was supposed to allow profanity from his P.A.L., but he didn’t want to ruin this chance to get Rashied interested in hockey.
“No shit. In many ways, hockey is like B-ball on ice.”
Rashied considered that. “So, you gotta get around the, uh, rink, and work around the other players with the…”
“Puck.”
“While on skates?” Rashied finished.
“Exactly. And there’s fighting.”
The kid gave him a slow nod. “That’s kinda dope, I guess.”
Callan figured that was practically award-worthy praise coming from the fourteen-year-old. “If you want, I’ll get you out to one of our preseason games so you can check it out.”
“Can I bring a friend?”
“Sure.”
“Aw’right.” Rashied tilted his head as he watched Bass steal the ball from Luke and take it to the basket in two long strides. “Thought you said you ain’t got any black dudes on your team.”
“We don’t.”
“That dude’s got black in ‘im somewhere,” Rashied argued.
Callan watched Bass for a minute, wondering what the kid saw. His teammate was tall and muscular with a cap of short, dark curls and light brown eyes. His skin was more caramel than milky white, but Callan had met Bass’s parents, who were both white.
He shrugged it off. Bass could’ve been purple and it wouldn’t have mattered to him. What mattered was that Bass was a beast on the ice.
“Murph, is that you?” Adam called from the court.
Callan smiled and gave his captain a chin lift. “Yeah. Hey, guys.”
Everyone on his teammates’ court stopped to look over at them. Bass grinned and planted his hands on his hips as he caught his breath.
“It is you, Murph,” the defenseman said. “What the—” he paused and reached over to place his hands on top of the ears of the kid standing next to him “—hell are you doing here?”
The kid swatted at Bass’ hands, then elbowed him when that failed. Bass stepped deftly to the side and glanced down at the kid whose head barely reached his midsection.
“Hey, now. What do I always say?” Bass asked the kid.
“Watch the nuts, Simon.”
“Right.” Bass reached out and ruffled the kid’s mop of red hair.
Luke walked closer to the edge of the court since they were nearly fifty feet away on the middle court and the sound of sneakers squeaking on the other courts made it difficult to hear. “You guys want to play with us, Murph? We could get in some four-on-four.”
“These old guys sure need the help,” called out the tallest of the kids from his position near Adam.
Adam didn’t even look at the kid. He just reached sideways, grabbed the kid’s shoulder, and gave him a shove that sent him stumbling. The kid laughed the entire time, telling Callan he’d been expecting the move.
Seeing his teammates interact so comfortably and familiarly with their P.A.L.s told him they didn’t only just happen to be there that day, they were there often. It made him realize just how incredibly self-absorbed he’d been.
Well, he was working on that. And a basketball game seemed like a fine place to start.
“You in?” he asked Rashied.
“You’re on.”
* * *
“Why didn’t you warn us you were bringing in a ringer?” Bass moaned as Callan and his teammates met up in the adult break room after the game.
The kids had kicked their asses, in large thanks to Rashied. His favorite subject might be computer science, but Callan’s new P.A.L. had some serious natural athletic ability.
“I just met him today,” Callan said as he downed a paper cup of Gatorade from the cooler set up on a table. “If I had known, I would’ve played on his team.”
Adam laughed and slapped Callan on the back as he drank a long pull from the water bottle in his hand. Luke had just finished running his neck cooling wrap under the cold water of the water fountain and now slung it over his neck without even bothering to wring it out.
“God, I feel old,” he said, using an edge of the wrap to wipe the sweat from his face.
“You are old,” Bass chuckled.
At twenty-four, Bass was the youngest among them. With the rest of them being thirty and up, Callan figured they were all ancient to him.
“You were holding your own out there, Murph,” Adam observed. “You been keeping up on your conditioning?”
“Yeah. Trying to get a jump on the season.”
“I can tell. That’s great.”
Callan sensed no sarcasm or judgment from Adam. Just praise.
The previous season had been Callan’s first one playing with his captain, but he’d found him a solid leader in every possible way. Adam met every one of Grizzly’s criteria, from being the first to every practice and the last to leave to taking it upon himself to help out struggling teammates. He was the team’s poster child, complete with the beautiful high school sweetheart wife and two adorable kids. He quickly earned the team’s respect and nod for their first captaincy.
“Yeah, I noticed that, too,” Bass said. “You’ve been keeping up with your workouts. No off-season paunch for you.” He grinned and patted his stomach, which wasn’t as flat as it would be in a few weeks. “You got a lady you’re trying to impress?”
Callan thought of Roxy. She hadn’t seemed to care about his subtle “paunch” when they’d had sex the month before, but he definitely kept her in mind any time he was tempted to skip ab day. He was determined to get her to break her no-sex pact soon and he wanted to look his best when that happened.
He hesitated long enough that each of his teammates stilled.
“For real?” Bass said.
“What’s her name?” Luke asked at the same time.
“When did this happen?” Adam wanted to know.
Callan laughed and shook his head. “You guys sound like women. Jesus.”
“Screw that,” Bass said, grabbing a nearby chair and flipping it around before sitting and propping his elbows on the back. “This is big news. Callan ‘The Player’s Player’ Murphy has taken the fall.”
The fall? Callan thought.
As in the Big L? With a woman he’d slept with once and had only known a couple months?
Naaaah.
You’re buying a house for her, his mind chose to chime in. You never stop thinking about her. You’re already dreading the road trips this season because you won’t get to see her as much. You’d drop anything and everything if she asked you to.
Fuuuuck.
“You taught me everything I know about women, man,” Bass went on, distracting Callan from his disconcerting thoughts. “We must hear everything about the one who finally snagged you.”