Practice makes perfect, and when you're fighting to be the best in your sport that is especially true. Ryder and Francesca are no exception. They are dedicated to their sport and refuse to let anything distracted. But when a scheduling conflict forc...
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I'm not sure why I am so bothered Francesca hasn't answered my last 4 texts, but I am. I read them over again to make sure I didn't say anything wrong that could have upset her. I know she's super busy lately but it is 10 minutes until our ice time starts which means she should be walking here by now and able to answer. When the front door opens I perk up. That has to be her.
"Hey Beck," I call out when she walks in through the lobby.
She doesn't respond and instead drops her stuff while continuing to march straight for me. Before I can ask her what's wrong she swings and connects somewhat painfully with my chest. "When were you going to tell me Carson!"
"Tell you what?" I anxiously rack my brain for a secret I might have kept from her recently. Something about the prank war maybe that I knew about and didn't warn her about? We have been trying to warn each other about pranks lately.
"You. The Islanders. You're in the NHL Carson! How did that never come up in conversation!"
My face pales. I don't tell people about that for a reason. The day I got drafted was the only time my parents acted like actual parents my entire life. They were proud, proud of me, but in reality they were just using me. The Islanders jersey I got on draft night, they basically ripped off of me to hang in the living room so everyone who came over could see it. The pictures they took with me that night were merely for social media and Christmas cards. None of it was real. When you get drafted to be a professional athlete the way people treat you changes and I learned that within minutes when I went from burden to prized possession with my parents. That night was the first time I thought about quitting hockey. A part of me, a big part of me somedays, never wants to play in the NHL just to spite them.
"How did you find out?"
"My brothers! I called them to tell them all the stuff you did and they freaked out."
"Can you just pretend this never happened? That you never found out?"
"Why? This is so cool Ryder."
"Beck please," I snap. I start adjusting my hat over and over, my biggest tell that I am upset.
"I'm sorry," she says, stunned a little. I feel bad but I am not in the mood to talk about this anymore so I just put on my skates, get on the ice, and begin my warmups.
I don't look over but I hear her get on the ice and begin skating as well. A few minutes later her music begins playing softly just loud enough she can hear it. I attempt to focus on my skating but memories of draft night keep playing in my head.
"With the 14th overall pick in the NHL draft the New York Islanders pick Carson Ryder." For a moment my brain is too slow to process that my name was the name just said. Me? drafted by the Islanders? My parents are embracing next to me and I think that puts a bigger smile on my face than anything else. I am 19 and still stupid enough to believe their act.
