Kid in a Locker (REWRITING)

10. Legends of Tomorrow

The heavy metal door of the arena slams closed behind me, startling me out of my crazy whirlwind of thoughts. I turn towards Nick, puffing condensation out of my mouth.

After we both recieved the text we decided it was in ours, as well as Troy's, best interest to leave then. Nick was afraid that Troy would pack up and leave again from where ever he currently was. The safest bet was to get there as fast as possible so that the probability of that happening wouldn't be so high.

"Your brother is okay with you coming with me?" His hair was still wet with sweat but he had changed out of his gear, his khakis and trenchcoat replacing the bulky pads. I had noticed at school that everyone on the team was dressed in some variation of dress clothes.

After telling Romul about what was going on, he practically pushed me out of the door. He knew as well as I did that finding Troy was as much my job as Nick's. He understood the circumstances and knew what a big deal it was to leave during the game. He knew I wouldn't leave without a very good reason.

"I should be ask you that question." I remark, falling into step with him. "Is your coach okay with that?"

"Coach G. knows my situation." He waves a dismissive hand. We climb into the truck and he throws his duffle bag into the backseat, shoving the keys into the ignition.

I take a deep breath and almost gag. Of course it made sense for Nick to smell bad, but that doesn't mean I was ready for it. The foul smell of sweat starts spreading through the cab, the air vents aiding the spread of the odor.

"Oh my God. You stink."

He raises his shoulder to his nose, taking a wiff. He pulls back, a look of disgust upon his face. "I do." He says in dismay.

"Put on some deodorant or something." I want to roll down the window. At the last second I change my mind, pulling my fingers away from the lever of the power window. It was too cold outside and as we rush down the highway, I know that the rushing wind will do more harm than good.

"You think that's going to help?"

I look at him. Even in the cool night air there was still a small sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead. It was still left over from the game, from when he was burning calories and chasing after the puck. The deodorant wouldn't stick but instead slide off and leave white, powdery stains on the inside of his shirt. "Guess not."

I gaze out the window as we drive on, glancing down at my phone every few seconds in hopes that Troy had texted again. Since the initial text neither Nick nor I could get a hold of him. We both tried texting separately and calling, but each time his phone went automatically to voicemail. His phone was off and there was no way we could know where he wanted us to pick him up at.

"Where are we going?" I ask, looking over to Nick.

He shakes his head. "I don't know..."

"But?"

"But I might know where he is."

Ten minutes later and we're parked in front of an old convience store. The old florescent light bulbs flicker, illuminating only the I and the red cross in the sign. There seems to be only a few people inside, a sleepy clerk and a young mom included. I watch as she tries to shush her crying child, which in turn causes the clerk to look up from her homemade pillow with a very exhausted look.