Brett
I had imagined my first trip to meet with an NHL team about a thousand times.
Not once had Ollie been sitting beside me on the plane eating pretzels from my bag.
“Those are mine.”
“They were yours.”
I held out my hand.
He dropped exactly one pretzel into it.
“You’re an asshole.”
“You’re nervous. I’m helping.”
“By stealing my food?”
“Giving you something else to focus on.”
I stared at him.
Ollie grinned. “You’re welcome.”
Coach had decided having one of my teammates come along would keep the trip from feeling like a damn funeral procession. Why he’d chosen Ollie remained a mystery.
My phone buzzed.
Cassie: Landed yet?
Me: No. Ollie is eating my food.
Her reply came immediately.
Cassie: Thoughts and prayers.
I laughed.
Ollie leaned toward my phone.
“Tell her I saw
