“You’re ridiculous.”
“You called me because it felt like we weren’t done talking. You’re ridiculous.”
Elliot rolls his eyes. “I think I’m done now.”
“Are you sure?”
“Would you answer if I called you again after this?”
“Yeah,” Blake says and he clearly means it.
Something’s tight in Elliot’s chest, but in a good way. “I’ll see you soon,” he says.
“Can’t wait. Bring me a moose from Canada.”
“Sure,” Elliot says.
Blake laughs, so soft that Elliot barely hears it.
Elliot doesn’t call him again after he’s hung up the phone, but he stays in his room for another minute or two to school his expression into something more neutral and something less besotted.
Chapter Nineteen
Adam gets traded the day before the Awards.
Elliot is in his parents’ backyard, having an existential crisis about whether or not he’s too old to spend half his summer at his parents’ house and if he should find himself an apartment in Toronto. Because he could. He has the money. But then shouldn’t he be careful with his money? He doesn’t need an apartment in Toronto.
He tries to distract himself by going on Twitter, even though he knows that’ll make him mad about something, especially if he stumbles across another article about the “ever mediocre” Ravens.
It’s not that the article he was fuming about the other day didn’t have a point, that was probably why it stung so much, but Elliot disagreed with what they had to say about his teammates. That Adam was a deadweight. That Andreas wasn’t worth his money. That Swanson, thirty-two years old, is past his prime. That not a single D-man on the roster deserves to be in the NHL. That Elliot was too positive about their abysmal last season in his exit interview.
The team has already been torn to shreds, Kenny traded for another player, Darren traded for a player and picks, three free agents in contract talks, two of which likely don’t want to stay. Elliot suspects that Moby will re-sign with the Ravens before free agency starts, but he’s in no way certain.
Their coach got fired. The Ravens haven’t announced who’ll be the new one, have only said that they’re taking their time with the decision to ensure that it’s the right one.
Their GM is on thin fucking ice. Has been for a year or two.
It’s not even that they’re tanking every season, it’s just that they can’t seem to make it far in the playoffs. Even getting into a wildcard spot is a struggle year after year. Ever mediocre.
Moves are being made before the Draft, before free agency, a trade from Tampa Bay to Toronto here, a trade from DC to Seattle there, and then, from one of the New York reporters, Adam Ishida to the Scorpions for two draft picks, one of them a first rounder.
Elliot fights the urge to throw his phone across the lawn.
It’s a business.
They don’t care if a player is the captain’s best friend, they don’t care if he has a family, they don’t care about any of them, in the end, if they aren’t worth their money. Elliot doesn’t try to think of their next season, him and Andreas, probably still together on the first line, and someone else, someone they might not even know yet, someone new, someone who’s not Adam.
Since all they’re getting for Adam is draft picks, Elliot doesn’t need to call any new players to welcome them to the team. It’s a blessing, because he has no idea how anyone could expect him to sound genuinely excited about someone getting traded to the Ravens right now. He can’t be, not if they’re losing Adam in the process.
He doesn’t know if Adam even knows yet, if they had a chance to call him before someone broke the news on Twitter. He texts Adam and asks him to call him when he gets a chance.
It takes half an hour, Elliot still in the backyard, flat on his back in the shade of a tree, somehow unable to convince himself to move and do something productive. Blake has texted him a sad face that Elliot hasn’t even replied to yet, knowing that Blake has his own shit going on with the NHL Awards. If he heard Blake’s voice right now, if Blake said a single kind word to him, about a guy that isn’t even Blake’s teammate, Elliot would probably burst into tears.
“Hi,” Adam says when Elliot picks up the phone, “I only have, like, ten seconds, because Lou is losing her shit.”
“I’m sorry,” Elliot says. He let him down.
Adam sighs. “I mean… at least it’s not Edmonton, right?”
“Right,” Elliot says.
“I’ll give you another call later, but I really need to talk to Lou about this. Because the universe is like, here, on top of having to move to Satan’s asshole, you can have a freaked-out pregnant wife as well. Yay.”
“Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”
“Yeah, promise you won’t love your new winger as much as you love me.”
“I think I won’t even take a new winger, it’ll just be me and Andreas.”
Adam laughs. “Fuck, this is terrible,” he says. “I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”
“Okay,” Elliot says.
Adam doesn’t call him for a while.
Elliot’s mom gets home, gives him a hug, because of course she’s seen the news, then she asks him what he wants for dinner, if she should make cookies and Elliot says yes to the pity cookies. He replies to Blake, sends him a sad face in return, because he can’t think of anything to say, other than, Can you please come here right now and hug me for a week? They’ll see each other after the Draft anyway.
The next day, Elliot tries to stick to his schedule, meets with his trainer,
