Between the Pipes (Offsides #3)

by J.J. Mulder

“Do you need anything else from me, today?” Avery asks in a way that conveys what he’s hoping the answer to be. I look around. The ice is strewn with cones and stray pucks; one of the goals has come loose and is being put back into place by Anthony. There are things to discuss and video from last season that still needs to be analyzed. “You can go,” I tell him. Avery, for reasons unknown even to myself, gets on my nerves. “Thanks, Coach. See you tomorrow. Bye, Lawson!” He’s already skating toward the bench, eager to be on his way. Too late, I realize that without him here it will only be Anthony and I. But isn’t that what you want? a sly, internal voice points out. “You can leave, too,” I call to Anthony, because I seem to only want things I cannot have and I absolutely cannot have Anthony Lawson. He looks up from where he’s still attending to the goal and waves a hand in my direction. “I’m good,” he yells back, voice echoing across the now empty rink. Resigned, I begin rounding up stray pucks. This sort of thing seems to be the hardest part of the job, for me. My peripheral vision is garbage, even in my good eye, so I end up missing more than I gather. Half the time, when I think I’m done, I look back over the ice and find twice as many pucks and cones as what I have in my hand. It’s infuriating, and only becomes more so when Avery, and now Anthony, are in attendance. I don’t want them to know about my eyesight, but it becomes increasingly difficult to hide in situations ...