Page 34 of The Tryout

I swear he goes pale at this. I can’t help but smile, finding this funny. I mean, there was a ton of horrifying stuff in Poplar Bluff, but the size of the town wouldn’t even crack my top ten.

“Jesus. Wait, but you had an ice rink? I feel like outside of Canada, you don’t usually get that in a town that size.”

I shake my head.

“Nah, I mean, we’d go skating on frozen ponds in the winter sometimes, but no formal rink.”

He looks confused at this.

“So…how did you play hockey?”

“I didn’t, not until I moved to St. Louis. Or, well, Webster Groves. It’s a suburb.”

“And when was that?”

I quickly do the math.

“Seven, eight years ago?”

This may shock him even more than the town size. As he stops at a red light in a commercial area, he fully turns to look at me.

“You’ve only been skating since you were twelve?”

Put on the spot, I shrug.

“Please take this as the extreme compliment it is intended as, but you do not skate like someone who picked it up as a pre-teen.”

I flush, because I do feel the compliment. I bite my lip, uncertain how I’m supposed to respond to something like that. Avery makes a response unnecessary.

“I thought I was a late bloomer, I’ve only been skating since I was eight. Some of these Canadian guys skated before they walked.”

I nod, having discovered the same for myself.

The light turns green, and Avery is distracted turning into the shopping center with Target. He’s right – the place is huge. He finds a spot, though of course the parking lot is full at this time on a Saturday. As we walk in, I’m already finding myself overwhelmed by the hustle and bustle of families doing their weekly shopping.

“How much stuff do you need to get? Should we get two carts or is one enough?”

Thinking for a moment, I answer honestly.

“I…don’t really need anything. Just thought I’d tag along.”

His response is not what I expect. Instead of calling me out for following along like a loser, he gives me a wide smile, full of straight, white teeth.

“Oh man, thanks for that. I don’t do well on my own, I appreciate the company.”

Grabbing a cart, he starts walking into the store.

Nothing could have prepared me for shopping with Avery. When I go shopping, it’s with a carefully curated list of items, usually chosen because they were on sale that week. If I can get a good coupon, sometimes I’ll stock up, but I usually walk out of Walmart with no more than a small basket of items.

Even when we got the apartment last year, I’d carefully add in one bigger purchase each month. First a bed, then pots and pans, then a small loveseat for the living room. There’s a reason why after living there for almost a year it still feels so…bare.

But Avery? I don’t think Avery could tell you the cost of a single item he puts in the cart. Basketball shorts, plastic organizers, water bottles – more water bottles than any one person could possibly want or need. Halfway through the store, the cart is full, but Avery isn’t done.

“Hey, could you hang with the cart for a sec? I’m gonna grab another one.”

He must take my stunned, wide-eyed look as acceptance, scurrying back off to the front of the store. My head is spinning through mental math, and the numbers I’m coming up with don’t make sense.

I know Avery’s not making more than I am; he came in on an ATO, for fuck’s sake. As I hear his footsteps approaching again, I’m reminded of the missing piece of the equation.