Plié and Clout

Epilogue: 4

agh, we're back, another one. 

-rabid

***

AUGUST

As we settle down to dinner, I can almost sense my mom's slight unease with Steph. And, Steph being the guy he is, notices. He might be bad with people's specifics, but he knows when someone is acting differently than their normal.

Which means he's glancing at me here and there, trying to reassure himself that it's not just him.

I can tell he's getting panicky with my mom's odd silence, so I reach over under the table and squeeze his knee.

"So, Steph," she finally speaks up, settling down into her chair and picking up a spoon. "You play hockey, what's the story with that?"

He puffs out his cheeks and I can tell he's conflicted between feeling relieved or even more panicky.

"Well, I, ah," he breathes out. "My grandfather played up top, only a couple years for the Leafs, but that was his thing with me when I was little. So he got me into it and after he died I kinda stuck with it because it reminded me of him. Uh, it went from there and I ended up in the CHL when I was sixteen, that's where I met Rocket, then I got drafted to Boston and things went from there."

"Yo I keep forgetting there's an actual draft. What, like, what seed were you?" Tristan asks through a mouthful of chili.

"Oh, uh, seventh."

His eyes practically bug out of his head. "Overall? Ben you said Tay said he was good but I didn't think August had it in her to snag a top ten pick!"

Steph glances at me, pursing his lips to keep from laughing. "Hey, she's pretty talented."

I take a spoonful of chili and ignore the way they're all staring at me now.

"So, Steph," my mom leads off again. "I know this is forward, but I've always assumed that pro sports comes along with a lot of odd habits."

He glances at me again. "Uh, I mean, are you asking about the superstition stuff or the social life stuff?"

That caught her off guard, but Steph's been trained in interviews since he was 16. He's programmed to ask clarifying questions. "Uh, socially, I think."

He swallows his mouthful and I pat his leg again, telling him that now is maybe not the time to get into the drinking culture. "Back in Boston it was definitely a lot more aggressive and closer to the stereotypical pro hockey expectations; but I'll be honest, the Wolves is a reset from all that somehow. I don't know if it's just who the boys are or what the city is like in terms of that side of life, but there's a lot less weird behind the scenes stuff. Definitely had a lot more odd high-end bar crawls in Boston." Damn it, Steph, you weren't supposed to say anything about those.

Mom's eyebrows go up, but she's not the one that comments.

Instead, it's Tristan that looks at Ben to ask his brother a question. "You go to a Boston school."

"Great observation?"

"No, but have you bumped into anyone Steph might know out there?"

Ben laughs. "First off, bold of you to assume I can possibly take a break from studying, and second, do you really think broke college me would end up in the same bars as Steph would?"

"Not like you're drinking." Mom gives the two of them a harsh glare.

"Oh, of course not." Ben responds at the same time that Tristan replies in a much less convincing tone: "What? Noooo."