Sophomore Surge

by K R Collins

  “You think a boyfriend would be distracting, then?”

  “A hypothetical boyfriend has already created a distraction. We’re here for Concord’s first Fan Fest and instead of asking me about the upcoming season, you want to talk about someone who doesn’t exist.” She scans the crowd until she finds Ed Rickers, her favorite reporter of the bunch.

  He works for The Granite State Sports Network, and his tie today has Concord’s condor on it. “You bulked up this summer.”

  “I always strive to be better.”

  It’s the perfect opening to ask about her summer training or her expectations for the season, but Marty Owen says, “Concord drafted Elsa Nyberg at this year’s draft. Was it wise to take a chance on another woman?”

  One day, she’ll strike the phrase take a chance out of everyone’s vocabulary. It’s all she heard last year even though Concord picked her last which was the opposite of taking a chance. Drafting Elsa wasn’t a gamble. She’s an elite goal scorer, able to come up big at the vital moment. In addition, she plays on the left wing, and her goal scoring combined with Sophie’s playmaking…a line with the two of them could be exactly what Concord needs to propel them into a winning season, then the playoffs.

  “If you’ve seen Elsa’s game tape, you’d know Concord isn’t taking a chance,” Sophie answers, as bland as she can manage. She locks her indignation down deep. “She’ll be an asset to our team.”

  “She has an edge to her game you don’t,” someone in the crowd says. She doesn’t recognize him which means he’s probably a blogger. If he thinks he can pit Sophie and Elsa against each other, he must be new.

  “One of the reasons I’m looking forward to playing with Elsa is because her skill set complements mine. Not all women in the NAHL are the same.”

  Rickers is smiling as he asks, “What about Gabrielle Gagnon? Would you say the two of you are different players?”

  Gabrielle is the third woman to be drafted into the League. She and Elsa both went first round at the last draft. Elsa, tall with sharp blue eyes and a bright smile, will be Sophie’s teammate and roommate this upcoming season. Gabrielle, who is striking in her own way, is the first female goalie in the League. They’re both proof Sophie did something right last season. The “Sophie Fournier Experiment” as her critics, and even some of her supporters called it, must have been a success since two more women have been added to the League.

  Sophie allows the reporters to see a flash of her smile before she answers. “I’d say I’m more offensively minded than Gabrielle, but she has me beat as a defensive player.”

  Rickers grows serious. “Do you think she’ll be a good fit for Quebec? They’re notoriously hard on their goalies.”

  Most teams put statues of players they’re proud of outside their stadiums. They erect monuments to franchise players, the ones who have led the team on a great playoff run or scored an iconic goal or blown team records out of the water.

  Not Quebec.

  Quebec’s stadium is guarded, or maybe haunted is the better word, by a statue of William Loiseau. He was the Bobcats’ goalie when they won five straight Maple Cups, and he was the one who lost them their sixth. With a win, Quebec would take the record for consecutive Maple Cup victories from Montreal, their longtime—and bitter—rival. But in triple OT of Game Seven of the Finals, the puck trickled through Loiseau’s legs and Quebec lost.

  They ran the man out of town. From the rumors Sophie’s heard, he was run out of the country too. They put up a statue of Five-Hole Billy to warn future goalies against repeating his mistakes. It was the birth of the Quebec Curse. They haven’t held on to a goaltender for more than five years since.

  “Quebec does have a reputation,” Sophie agrees. “Gabrielle is a steady goalie, and she’s always performed well for Team Canada, another tough hockey critic. There are a lot of aspects of her game for Quebec to like.”

  It’s uncommon for a goalie to make their team right out of being drafted, but maybe Gabrielle will be an exception. Sophie’s most excited for Elsa, to have another woman on her team, but it’ll be good to compete against Gabrielle.

  After she’s released from the media, she sits for a signing session with Matty, Lindy, and Delacroix. Benoit Delacroix—X—is their veteran defenseman and as much as this weekend means to Sophie, it means more to him. The last expansion took place during the League’s seventy-fifth year. Concord was one of the teams added. X was recruited out of college, the first player signed to the team.

  X, and Concord, have been in the League for eighteen years now. He’s dedicated his entire career to this team, and Sophie will see him lift the Cup before he’s done. No one has given this franchise more than he has, and she wants him rewarded for it. There are lines in his face she doesn’t remember from last year, and his beard, while trimmed short, has more gray than brown in it this year.

  She sits between X and Matty with Lindy on Matty’s other side. They’re the pillars of the franchise, the Condors building up around X then Matty and X then Matty, X, and Lindy, but a solid structure needs four pillars. Maybe it’s cocky for her to elect herself Concord’s fourth support, but she does it anyway. The four of them, they’ll bring Concord to the playoffs for the first time in franchise history, then they’ll win the Cup.

  “You’re my favorite player.”

  Sophie’s pulled out of her thoughts by a girl in a Condors T-shirt. Her curls are pinned to keep them out of her face, and she hands a second T-shirt to Sophie to sign.

  “It used to be Justin Rust, because he’s American and my brother says I’m not allowed to like Canadian players best, but it’s a stupid rule so I like you anyway.”

  Matty’s doing his best not to laugh, and Sophie has to turn away from him so she can control her smile. “Thank you. Do you play?”

  The girl nods and it shakes some of her curls free. “I want to play with the boys like you. I have your poster on my wall and my brother told me it was stupid because girls can’t play as good as boys but you scored the most points in the League.”

  “If you’re good enough to play, you can play, whether you’re a boy or a girl. What’s your name?”

  “Eliza Bennett. My mom named me after some girl in a really old book. I’m going to name my daughter Sophie like you.”

  All three of her teammates are openly laughing at her now. Fighting a blush, Sophie writes To Eliza above her signature. “You seem too young to have kids.”

  Eliza rolls her eyes. “Duh, I’m only in sixth grade. Mom says I have to wait until college to have a boyfriend.” She squints at Sophie. “If you didn’t go to college then when are you allowed to date?”

  Thankfully, one of the convention attendants moves Eliza along before Sophie has to answer.

  After the convention, the team piles into one of their favorite bars. They take up two sets of booths near the back, and Sophie sits between Witzer and Merlin with a bottle of water rather than a beer. She fiddles with the plastic label. “It has been one day, and I’ve fielded more questions about dating than I did all of last year.”

  The table falls silent. Nelson looks away as if the word date is something to be afraid of even though she listened to him regale the locker room with stories of his various hookups last year, in more detail than anyone needed. Next to her, Witzer has gone still as if she’ll forget he’s here if he doesn’t move or speak.

  “Sorry.” Sophie twists and untwists the cap on her water bottle. She forgot there are some topics off-limits to her.

  “You don’t need to apologize.” Merlin glares at his phone.

  She leans over his shoulder. The Sin Bin, which is more an online tabloid than a hockey news site, is running the headline Sophie Fournier–Hockeysexual? She’s heard variations of the same ever since her male teammates realized they wanted to be near girls instead of running away from them. There were several awful months in the locker room where the boys strutted around with their shirts off and their chests puffed up.

  She was eleven
and completely uninterested.

  Over the years, with different teams and in different locker rooms, Sophie has remained uninterested. Sometimes, she wonders if there’s something wrong with her. She’s never felt a spark when she sees someone or experienced the stirrings of a crush. She’s seen plenty of abs and asses and dicks in the locker room and never thought anything besides put some clothes on before a camera catches you.

  “This article says instead of watching porn you get off on hockey highlights.” Merlin keeps his voice light, trying to make a joke out of it because if they can joke, then everything will be okay.

  She doesn’t need him to guard her feelings, but she appreciates the effort. She’s tempted to say she gets off the way she imagines most women without a partner do—with her hands and her favorite vibrator—but this isn’t the right time or the right audience.

  Instead, she grins and bumps his shoulder with hers. “I guess you don’t have to worry about me having a crush on you. You’re certainly not on my hockey highlight reel.”

  The table, if possible, grows even quieter.

  Then Matty slaps the table as he bursts into laughter.

  “Hey,” Merlin grumbles, but he looks too relieved to mean it.

  Chapter Two

  MOST OF HER teammates leave town after the convention. Garfield returns to Montana to spend as much time as possible with his grandmother before the season begins. Matty takes his wife and kids on one last vacation before his schedule becomes so packed they don’t see much of each other.

  Sophie opens her apartment to Derek Napoli and CondorsTV so they can film a special episode of In the Nest. It’s a web series which also airs on The Granite State Sports Network, and it provides a behind-the-scenes experience for the fans of the Condors. She understands why it’s important, but she resents her home being invaded.

  Her entire life has been open to anyone who wants to poke at it. All her schoolteachers have been interviewed over the years as well as coaches and teammates from every team she’s played on. Already, there are a dozen of specials on The Making of Sophie Fournier. She has biographies about her life, and she isn’t even twenty. Sometimes, she’s afraid people will scoop every story and memory from her until there’s nothing left belonging to her.

  She dips her fingers into the waistband of her pants so she can touch the tattoo she knows is there. This, at least, is a secret she’s managed to keep. Her tattoo is two crossed hockey sticks, with the number 93 inked to the left of them. She intended the right side to hold an equally important number, her draft selection maybe. But after she was chosen dead last, she didn’t want a 224 on her body, a permanent reminder of how her team undervalued her. Instead, she has a blank space, waiting for the right thing to fill it with.

  There’s a knock at her door and she stops touching her tattoo. She shakes her Condors T-shirt out to cover the waistband of her jeans so there’s no chance Napoli will see something she doesn’t want him to see. Then she opens the door, covering a yawn as if she woke up only moments ago.

  She’s been awake for two hours.

  “Coffee?” she asks Napoli and the camera crew who follow him in.

  Teddy dragged her to the store and made her buy a Keurig after the first day of the convention. He claimed her lack of a coffee machine was “a crime against humanity” and assured her Elsa wouldn’t abandon Sophie and get her own apartment because there was already a coffeemaker.

  “We’re good,” Napoli tells her. Behind him, the red light on the camera blinks. “Can you tell me about your apartment? Did you pick it out yourself or did one of the guys help you?”

  Last season, Sophie asked Matty for help buying her first car. She doesn’t think Napoli or Ed Rickers have forgiven her for not taking a camera crew along with them. The apartment hunting had been done on her own. She felt it was an important step and, more importantly, she didn’t want anyone teasing her for how long it took her to decide. She needed the perfect apartment so Elsa will be happy and want to stay.

  “I found it on my own. Um, you guys came up so you know there’s a doorman. I never thought I’d live in a place with a doorman, but here I am.” She smiles even knowing it’s as awkward as she feels. Over the years, she’s learned to be as bland and boring as possible, the best defense against the intrusive media, but CondorsTV is all about being warm and inviting.

  It’s difficult to be inviting when she doesn’t want them here.

  “Why don’t you tell us about your couch,” Napoli suggests.

  She glances at the piece of furniture. She ordered it online and it serves as a visual block between the kitchen and the living room. She did some reading on apartment staging to make sure she did it right. She doubts Napoli will care. “It’s extra wide because sometimes I fall asleep on the couch, and there’s nothing worse than waking up because I’ve fallen off.”

  “Your TV is smaller than I’d expect.”

  Sophie hadn’t wanted a TV at all, but the wall looked too empty, and the TV takes up space. “I don’t plan on watching much.”

  Napoli, who is out of the video frame, looks pained. “There aren’t any shows you follow?”

  “I watch hockey, but on my computer or my iPad if the coaches have loaded my shifts for me to review.”

  “Do you have any game consoles?” Napoli asks, desperate.

  “No. I texted Elsa to see if she wanted me to buy any, but I haven’t heard back yet.”

  Even accounting for the time difference, she should’ve answered Sophie already. They exchanged numbers at the draft, and Elsa has had no problem bombarding Sophie’s phone with vacation photos; Elsa at the beach, Elsa climbing mountains, Elsa at a petting zoo. She loves animals and she loves being outside, and almost every picture has been a selfie, Elsa’s bright smile taking up most of the frame.

  “You have a roommate next year.” Napoli latches onto this new topic. “Are you looking forward to it?”

  “I am.” Her first genuine smile spreads across her face. “I’m grateful to the Wilcoxes for giving me a place to stay last year, but I’m excited for an apartment and a roommate to share it with. Do you want a tour?”

  Napoli grimaces even as he nods. They’ve already seen the couch and the TV so she moves into the kitchen which is modern and functional. Napoli waves the cameras over to zoom in on the pictures on her refrigerator. They were housewarming gifts from the Wilcox girls. Kaylee drew Sophie a pretty good picture of Sophie on the ice with her teammates. Jessi drew her Biscuit, the Wilcox family hamster.

  “They’re from the Wilcox girls,” Sophie says. Kaylee is in fourth grade now, and Jessi is in second. Jessi’s still campaigning for Sophie to serve as show-and-tell in her class. It’s brought up every time Sophie visits the family, and Kaylee tries to appear aloof and disinterested, but she never leaves the room as if she’s invested in the answer. Sophie makes another mental note to ask Mary Beth about setting something up.

  Sophie leads the cameras into her bedroom next. It’s large enough to comfortably fit a queen-size bed and a dresser. The closet has the space for all of her suits. Her walls are bare, because she feels weird hanging up hockey posters the way she did in her childhood bedroom.

  “Still getting settled, I see.”

  Sophie looks at the neatly made bed and the quilt folded at the end of it, a present from her mom. A framed family photo rests on one nightstand. A picture of the team is on the other. Napoli clearly thinks something is lacking so Sophie says, “Early days,” and hopes he doesn’t come back to see if she makes any changes.

  She brings him to Elsa’s room next, and it’s even barer than her own with only a bed, a dresser, and two nightstands. She’s learned, though, and jumps on the offensive right away. “I didn’t want Elsa to feel as if her room isn’t hers. I want it to be a blank slate for her. The guest room is more decorated.”

  She leads them into the last bedroom in the apartment. There’s another queen bed, and this one has a bed skirt and everything. Everything in the r
oom matches from the dark blue comforter to the sailboat pictures on the walls. She saw this room in a magazine she was flipping through and ordered the whole thing. The furniture is white, the bedding is navy blue, and the walls are a light blue to bring out the color of the ocean in the pictures. According to the catalogue, at least.

  “This is…nice,” Napoli says.

  “It’s for family.”

  When the preview for the special goes up, Sophie’s mom sends her six different links for throw pillows, because her couch doesn’t have any and apparently they’re essential.

  Merlin sends her a plastic plant.

  Elsa signs a one-year extension with Gothenburg and Sophie finds out from the media. Her alert on Elsa’s name pings and sends her to an article in Swedish. At first, Sophie hopes it’s a Google Translate issue even though, deep down, she knows it isn’t. Still, she sticks a link into her chat with Elsa to confirm.

  It barely takes any time for Elsa to respond.

  Mamma says Concord is far away.

  It’s like a blindside hit, knocking the breath out of her. Elsa isn’t coming.

  Disappointment pierces the fog in her brain. The sharp twist of it makes her want to cry. She was supposed to have another woman on the team. She was supposed to have a roommate. She looks at the matching sectional she ordered for the couch so there would be space for both of them. Then she sweeps all the stupid throw pillows onto the floor.

  She takes a deep breath. Her Google alert warned her of the article, but it won’t be long before it’s translated and the news trickles down to the American media.

  Elsa has added a bunch of sad face emojis to their chat. Sophie takes another deep breath and closes their conversation.

  She calls Mary Beth.

  “What happened?” Mary Beth asks.

  “Elsa’s staying in Sweden. My schedule is open. Whatever interviews you need, I’ll do them.”