Page 1 of The Tryout

PROLOGUE

AVERY

Minneapolis, March

As the plane pulls up to the gate, the seatbelt light turns off, a gentle ding coming through the speaker overhead. Around me, people begin to stretch and stir, several just waking up from a late-night nap.

I had forgotten the time change when scheduling this flight. Though my body is telling me it’s just after dinner, my watch and the dark Minnesota sky out the window are sending another message entirely.

I pull my phone out of my pocket, switching it off of airplane mode. Once upon a time, I would have been met with message after message; invitations to parties, hookup requests, questions from my agent.

Now, a single text thread lights up.

Jamie Carter 9:45

Game finished on time!

I’ll definitely be there.

Jamie Carter 11:32

I’m here! See you soon!

Against my better judgment, I can feel the corner of my mouth lift in a smile. It’s been a hard year for Jamie and I. Sitting on my ass in LA, trying to rehab my knee well enough to get back on the ice, while he’s gone off and had the rookie season we were supposed to have together.

I make an effort to loosen my fists, feeling the half-moons of my nails biting into the palms.

It isn’t his fault that he got that and you didn’t.

I close my eyes, taking a deep breath and wondering if I can just stay on this plane, go back to my apartment, my life, such as it is.

He deserves a better friend than you.

That certainly opens my eyes. I may not have been the best friend to Jamie this year, but he’s had his shortcomings, too. That’s the entire point of this trip – to take some actual time together, to work through what we’ve been avoiding for the past eight months.

As the aisle next to me clears, I heave my body out of my seat. I reach up into the overhead bin, grabbing the duffle I stashed there at the beginning of the flight.

At least he came.

I was so sure I’d land and find that he couldn’t make it, that he’d sent someone in his place. But he didn’t; he came here himself, ready to try, and I owe it to our friendship to do likewise.

As promised, he is standing alone outside of security. I know he’s sickeningly in love – even if he’s not super comfortable with that word just yet – and eager to introduce me to his boyfriend. But I’ve asked for us to focus on each other to begin with, and he seems to have heard that message loud and clear.

His hair is a mess, probably still wet from his postgame shower. He’s smiling wide, waving at me as though I could possibly miss him. Still, as I approach, he doesn’t run up for a hug, a hug I would have taken for granted a year ago.

Instead, he chews on his bottom lip, looking like he has no idea where to put his hands now that he’s done waving. I lean in, going for a hug that’s considerably briefer than our usual. As he pulls away, he dives right in, talking a mile a minute.

“Do you have luggage? I think the baggage claim is over there. Or else I’ve got my car in the garage.”

He looks at me expectantly. I do not have luggage – the duffel I’m carrying holds everything I’ve brought. To be honest, I was still halfway sure yesterday that I wasn’t going to get on that plane. By the time I decided, I only had time to throw in a few handfuls of clothes and call the Uber.

Surely they have stores in Minneapolis?

“Nah, man. Just this.” I shrug the shoulder with the bag.

He grabs it away from me, turning to stride out the doors marked “Ground Transportation”. As the automatic doors slide open, I’m blown away – almost literally – by the cold wind that comes in.

“Shit, dude. How fucking cold is it?” My arms wind around me as I brace automatically against the chill.