Page 66 of The Tryout

“How old was your roommate when he signed on with this guy?”

“In high school. A junior. Seventeen maybe?”

He hums.

“How old is he now?”

“Twenty.”

“Shit. If he were eighteen, that would have been really helpful; he could simply void the contract altogether. But operating under it for the last couple of years has ratified it, so that’s out. What do players usually do when they want to fire their agent?”

“In the NHL, it’s just 30 days’ notice and a certified letter. In the AHL, the protections are a little less clear. It seems like, for the most part, that still works. But, in theory, I guess the guy could put up a fight.”

I see him grab a legal pad and start scribbling things down.

“Does your roommate have any evidence of what’s happened?”

“Yeah, he’s been able to pull together some emails and contracts. I’ve started a letter referencing them, let me share it.”

I send the document through and hold my breath. I know this is what he does for a living, and I’m a little shy for him to see my amateurish attempt.

“Alright, this is a decent start. We need to bring in that evidence you have, though. And I might slightly edit the part about how he should be ‘ashamed of himself for taking advantage of a hardworking, kind, young man’, but only because this kind of person doesn’t feel shame.”

Whoops. Might have let some of my personal thoughts overflow into the document there. Pops goes on.

“Do you think it would help to have this letter coming from my office, sort of a cease and desist? I’d be happy to do that.”

I smile, glad that he offered before I even had to ask. Behind me, though, a voice speaks up.

“Oh. You don’t have to do that, Mr. Lawson. Is it Lawson? Or, I mean, I can absolutely pay you for your time.”

I turn in my chair to find Finn, face red and hair a bit disheveled from his hunt through his bedroom.

“Finn, why don’t you come meet my Pops before you pay a retainer, okay?”

He walks closer, seeming suddenly more aware of the state of his hair, which he attempts to pat down.

“Hey, Finn. Nice to meet you at last! Why don’t you grab a seat so we can talk this over?”

In all the times I’ve talked with my dads since I moved in, Finn’s always managed to stay just out of view. Now, seeing his nerves, I wonder if that was intentional.

“Mr. Lawson, I’m so sorry you have to help us with this. I should never have signed with him in the first place, I know that now.”

Recognizing the spiral Finn is starting on, I cut in.

“Finn. You were, what, seventeen?”

“Sixteen.”

I reach out to place my hand on his arm.

“You were a kid. On your own. You didn’t have anyone looking out for you. But now you do, and we can fix this, okay? Will you let us help?”

His eyes dart between my hand and the screen, and I can’t help but notice Pops has gone unusually quiet, too.

“Okay. Yes, I’d like your help.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN