Sin-bin

Chapter 19 - Marical

The next afternoon, I'm sitting in my hotel room in Minnesota as most of the team gathers in the hotel bar to have a few light drinks, conscious of our game tomorrow. 

I had almost forgotten what it was like to be on a trip. My stomach lurched more than it used to when the plane took off, and it must have been evident in my face because everyone chirped me for it. Though I've learned that Levi isn't a fan of flying, at least someone was on my side. The flight wasn't long, so we played cards and just talked. I didn't talk. I listened to Rodney Clapton, the backup goalie, talk about his family. Turns out he has three daughters. 

For whatever reason, they flew us out the night before the game, so we weren't jetlagged or anything for the morning skate. Everyone knew they couldn't get fucked up, but most of the boys had enough alcohol tolerance that a few drinks wouldn't hurt their performance tomorrow. It would hurt mine, though. So, while my team fraternizes in the bar, I sit in my bed with my knees pulled up to my chest and my sketchbook on them since I've already attended my approved AA meeting in town.

Every time Dallas and I met for painting, he would ask about my drawing. He stressed that the more confident I am in fundemtal art technique the better my painting would be. Wary not to mess up my paintings or disappoint Dallas, I've gotten into the habit of just doodling or sketching every once in a while. Usually, it's dumb things like what I've seen on TV or a Google image to copy, but I guess any practice is better than nothing. And it's something that Dallas would be proud of.

Dallas—

The door opens, interrupting my train of thought about Dallas. In comes fourth wing center, Otto Nillson. Otto was big for a center height at almost 6'4" and 250 pounds. He's quiet, usually keeps to himself and few of the other guys but i know the basics about him. He's six years older than me and has been playing in the NHL since he was 24. He's originally from Sweden, so every summer, he flies back with his family. He seems like a big family guy. 

We haven't really spoken much before, so I'm not sure what to do or say when he comes in. I knew he was my roommate, but he hasn't been in the room yet while I've been here. As far as I know, he was downstairs with the rest of the guys. 

So I stare at him with big eyes, clutching my pencil as he walks in, dragging a hand through his long blonde hair.

"Hey."

I twist my feet in the bedsheets, "Hey...the party dissolving downstairs?"

Otto slips off his shoes and unbuttons his dress shirt before he flops backward on the bed with a grunt, "Not yet, probably soon, though. Some of the rookies are getting a little too wasted, so I think Cap's going to put them to bed soon." Having been in America for most of his career, Otto has lost a majority of his accent, but it certainly peaks out at times.

"Oh." That makes sense. It's getting late, and the rookies probably haven't developed their understanding of their playing abilities after drinking. Plus, Cap's a good team dad. 

"Yeah," Otto sits up with a grunt again and pulls his phone out of his pocket before glancing at me, "Do you mind if I call my family while I'm in the room, or would you like me to leave—"

"Oh, no, no, no," I wave my hand in the air and shake my head, "Go ahead. I can leave if you need privacy."

"Nah, just going to say goodnight to the girls. It should be quick."

Indeed, it doesn't last long. As far as I can tell, his 'girls' are a 10-year-old named Emma and his wife, Maria. Emma talks about dinner and what she's going to do the next day before Otto kisses his hand and gestures it to the phone with a soft goodnight. Then he speaks lowly with Maria in Sweedish before kissing his hand again and wishing his girls one final goodnight. I try to make it not obisous that I'm listening by going back to my drawing of the chair that is positioned in the corner of our room but i don't know how well it went. I can tell I'm envious in my stomach and the back of my head. I can feel the green, wishing that I had someone to call goodnight to.