“So the deal’s done?”
Jim Rutherford hung up the phone. “It’s done. Sami and Craig Adams to Montreal for Zednik and a pick switch. Tell me again the urgency?”
“Just too many other interested teams suddenly. He finished that swoop of Canada and people started watching. I don’t want to lose him.”
“Ok. I trust your judgment on this.”
“You should.”
“I do.”
With a smile, the scout left the office, pleased that the deal to ensure that his favorite prospect would come into their organization was going through.
*
*
*
*
*
“I can’t BELIEVE they traded Sami!” Parker groaned, as he, Kevyn, Damon, and a few others watched the lounge TV.
“Zednik’s good, though. The Hurricanes got a good deal,” Kevyn replied. “Especially with Kapanen’s playoff struggles.”
“This time of year, though, I bet it isn’t about the players,” remarked Austin. “I mean, those two are pretty similar, skill-wise. But Carolina moved up to the 15th pick. They’re worried about someone going before they can get to them.”
“Probably true,” said Damon. “Though after those top three everyone talks about, the rest of the field is more even.”
Thinking it over, Parker had to agree. Neither team was getting a steal on the player trade, but Carolina wanted a higher pick. They had probably initiated the movement in the first place. He realized Michael had said something to him. “What?”
“How active have you been? With scouts, I mean.”
He hadn’t really told anybody how many calls he’d gotten. But he was leaving for the draft tomorrow. So they may as well know. “A lot,” he admitted. “Not me so much, but my parents have talked to a whole lot. From…several teams.”
Kevyn grinned. “You are so going high, man.”
“Did you decide what you’re doing?”
“Boston College,” he said. “I’ll walk-on. Or try, anyway.”
The other guys started talking about their plans for next year as Parker slipped away, wandering outside the hotel. He found a bench and sat down with his cell phone, dialing Chris’ home number.
He answered. “Hey, Chris.”
“Parker? Hey, what’s going on?”
“Not much…how are you?”
“Better,” he sighed. “The cut’s mostly healed and I’m in a soft cast. Can’t skate for another couple of weeks.
“Ah, you’ll be able to before you know it.”
“Yeah…but it won’t matter, Park. It’s kind of…well…I’m never going to play in the NHL, Park, I’m not that good. Not like you or Kev or somebody. I’m not going to play again.”
That shocked Parker. “Never?”
“No…I’m going to Vanderbilt. Continuing my work with Fox and Preds. It won’t matter much, not playing.”
Parker took a deep breath. This next part wasn’t easy to say. “Chris…I’ve been thinking a lot these last couple days. About…”
“About us?”
“About me. And I don’t think it’s fair, Stormy. I can’t care about anything more than I do about hockey. Maybe, when I’m older, that won’t be the case, but right now…I think I’m better off without leading anybody on, you know?”
Chris was quiet for a long time while Parker held his breath. “So, you’re breaking up with me?”
“I…I guess so.”
More silence. “I’d hoped…I mean, I knew that about you. But I hoped it wouldn’t matter. That you’d be able to care a little bit about me, too.”
“I did, Storm, really, I did, but…”
“I guess I was wrong. Bye, Parker.”
“No, wait, don’t-“ But Chris had hung up. Angrily, Parker ended the call and sat back against the bench, looking up at the sky. What else was he supposed to do? It wasn’t fair to continue to carry on a relationship when his mind was one-track. The nagging voice in his head reminded him that he hadn’t mentioned his own indiscretions, but Parker ignored it. It didn’t matter now, anyway. Wishing life was somewhat simpler, he went inside to pack for Toronto.