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can’t take the van unless you go with me.”
    “Why not?”
    She rolled her eyes again. “Because Mum thinks if I’m driving alone, I’ll use my phone.”
    They’d finally given up the fight and gotten her a cell phone for her birthday. And regretted it almost instantly.
    I’d even heard them talking about cancelling her serviceif her grades slipped.
    I never used the phone (unless I was winning the ultimate hockey trivia contest) and I couldn’t imagine anyone having as much to talk about as Wendy did.
    Seriously, her boyfriend Shane (Eddie Bosko’s big brother) would drop her off at home and two seconds later she’d be calling him. Like she’d even had a chance to blink since they’d seen each other.
    They slobbered all over each other, all the time. I didn’t even want to think about it. Way too gross for me.
    “I don’t want to go,” I told her.
    “It’ll take half an hour. I just want some lip gloss.”
    “You’re going to drive all the way to the mall for lip gloss?”
    Ever since she got her license, she’d been coming up with the dumbest excuses to drive. She even offered to pick up groceries for Mum or drop me off at school, just to get behind the wheel.
    “Nugget,” she warned.
    “I’m waiting for Dad. Just leave your phone with Mum, so she knows you won’t use it.”
    “What?” she gasped.
    “Just —”
    “I heard what you said, Nugget,” she snapped, looking at me like I was nuts. “What if someone calls me?”
    “They’ll leave a message.” It seemed simple enough.
    She rolled her eyes. “You are such a tool.”
    “I’m not a —”
    “There’s no way I’m leaving without my phone,” she said, storming back into the house. “Thanks a lot.”
    I took some more shots, checking the street behind me for Dad every couple of minutes.
    When he finally pulled up and got out of the car, I followed him into the house, carrying my stick.
    “How was school?” he asked.
    “Not bad,” I told him, even though Math had kind of ruined the rest of the day for me.
    “Just not bad?” he asked, chuckling. “Well, anything would be a letdown after practice, right?” He held the door for me and smiled.
    “Uh … sure.”
    “You know, I had a great time this morning,” he said, leaving his briefcase by the door and hanging up his coat.
    “Um, Dad —”
    “So,” Mum said, appearing in the kitchen doorway. “How did it go?”
    “Terrific,” he said. “It was so nice to be back on the ice. I’d almost forgotten how much I loved practice back in the day.”
    I tried to butt in. “Dad, the guys were —”
    “Fantastic,” he finished for me. “They really worked hard and it felt great to be giving them guidance.”
    “I’m glad to hear it,” Mum said, smiling. “I was a bit worried, but it sounds like you were in your element.”
    “Definitely,” Dad said, then looked at me. “The old man’s got some tricks up his sleeve, eh, Nugget?”
    “Yeah,” I said, then cleared my throat, ready to say my piece. “The drills were good and everything, but the guys are kind of used to having a scrimmage at the end of practice.”
    “Sure,” he said, loosening his tie and heading for the stairs. “Everyone loves a scrimmage.”
    “Right, and they love it at
every
practice. Since we didn’t get to have one today —”
    “We’ll try to squeeze one in on Wednesday,” he said, climbing the stairs. “Like I told the guys already.”
    Squeeze one in?
    That sounded even less likely than fitting one in, which I was sure he’d said that morning.
    No,
squeezing
didn’t sound good at all.
    I sighed and when I turned to go into the kitchen, Mum was still standing in the doorway, watching me.
    “Is everything okay?” she asked.
    “Sure,” I told her.
    “The guys were happy with Dad coaching?”
    “Uh-huh,” I nodded. It was at least partly true.
    “Good, because I just got off the phone with Mrs. O’Neal. Coach is going to need surgery.”
    “What?” I