THIAGO
I stood by the front desk, and my eyes remained fixed on Anastasia as the rest of the players headed toward the stairs.
She looked tired, but there was a small smile on her face that faded the moment she noticed me walking toward her.
She tightly gripped the strap of the shopping bag in her hand, and she stopped moving entirely.
When I’d asked if she enjoyed her afterwards, she only looked at me strangely and scoffed.
"And why do you care about that, Thiago," she raised her eyebrows.
"I am the captain of this team, Anastasia, and I am only asking because you work for the team, and Coach expects everyone to avoid causing any trouble while we are away on a road trip," I told her, and I kept my voice flat, and I placed my hands deep inside my pockets to hide how tight my fists were.
Even I was startled by the sudden way I was behaving.
She folded her arms over her chest, and she stood her ground without blinking. "I was not causing any trouble out there, Thiago. We went to an arcade and a pier, and I was just doing what the rest of the staff did during their free time."
She tilted her head, and her deep blue eyes looked directly into mine, and she asked if I questioned every single employee the same way or if she was getting special treatment from me.
The question caught me off guard, and I felt a sudden surge of heat rise up my neck, but I forced my expression to stay completely smooth.
I did not want her to know how much the sight of her with Cassian had ruined my focus all afternoon.
"You can think whatever you want to think." I said, and I stepped back a few inches to end the conversation before my temper got the better of me.
She stared at me for another second, and her expression was full of disbelief, but she did not press the matter any further.
She gave a small shake of her head, and she murmured a quiet goodnight to me.
Then she turned around on her heel and walked away toward the elevators, and the sound of her sneakers echoed in the empty space until the doors slid shut behind her.
I stood completely alone in the lobby for a long time, and I kept wondering why that simple conversation had annoyed me so much, and I could not shake the heavy feeling of frustration that settled deep in my chest.
~
The next morning came far too quickly, and the bright sunlight streamed through the large glass doors as everyone checked out of the hotel and boarded the team bus for the airport.
The players were carrying their duffel bags and their matching team suitcases, and they were talking loudly as they packed into the rows of blue seats.
Miller was sitting near the middle of the bus, and he somehow convinced half the team to rate everyone’s travel outfits while the rookies argued over who had the absolute worst fashion sense on the roster.
"Look at those shoes, Brooks," Miller shouted from his seat, and he pointed down at Cassian’s bright white sneakers while the surrounding players chuckled loudly.
"You look like you are trying to audition for a boy band instead of traveling for a professional hockey game."
Cassian just laughed, and he kicked his foot out into the aisle to show off the shoes. "These shoes are classic, Miller. You just do not know anything about style because you wear the exact same grey tracksuit every single time we travel."
Even Coach laughed from his seat at the very front of the vehicle, and he turned around to face the noisy rows. "Enjoy the jokes now, boys, but make sure your heads are completely in the game the second we land on that runway."
Kier was sitting right across from me, and he rubbed his eyes with his palm.
"My phone was buzzing until three in the morning, Miller," Kier grumbled, and his voice was rough from the lack of sleep. "Some of us actually need to rest our bodies before we hit the ice again."
Miller immediately blamed Cassian instead, and he waved his hands in the air to defend himself. "That was not my fault, Kier. Cassian was the one who kept sending those stupid photos from the pier, and he would not stop bragging about the photo booth."
The argument spread through almost the entire bus, and the constant back-and-forth banter made everyone laugh until the driver finally pulled out of the hotel parking lot and started driving toward the highway.
Anastasia sat a few rows behind me with the media staff, and she was already working again with her laptop open on her knees. She did not look up at the players, but I could see the bright screen reflecting in the glass of the window next to her as she rapidly clicked through her photo files.
The flight was quiet for the first hour, and most of the players were leaning back against their headrests with headphones on, but the peace did not last very long.
The communications manager suddenly stood up from her seat near the front of the plane, and she held up a small black microphone and announced that the team wanted short behind-the-scenes interviews during the flight because the fans loved that type of personal content on the official website.
"We need a few volunteers to talk about the road trip and the recent win," the manager called out, and she looked down the aisle at the players.
The younger players immediately started volunteering, and they were all shouting and raising their hands to get noticed by the media crew. Cassian was the first to raise his hand, and he stood up from his seat to walk toward the small open space near the galley where the camera equipment was set up.
He looked back at Anastasia where she was holding a smaller handheld camera to record the audio, and he flashed his usual confident grin.
"Make sure you get my good side, Anastasia," Cassian said, and he adjusted the collar of his shirt while the other rookies started cheering and whistling from the back rows.
Anastasia just shook her head, and a small, amused smile appeared on her face as she lifted the camera to focus on his face.