Chapter 11: The Gift

Lars made eggs at six in the morning in a pan that did not match anything else in the kitchen.

Ty sat at the counter in one of Lars's sweatshirts and held his phone face down.

"You haven't touched your coffee," Lars said.

"I'm thinking."

"About what the text says?"

"About what it means."

Lars slid a plate across the counter, then sat down on the next stool and waited.

He was good at waiting. It was one of the things Ty had noticed about him on the ice.

"My father paid for the arena," Ty said at last. "You know that."

"Everybody knows that."

"It's not a gift he gave once. It's a pledge he renews every spring."

Ty turned his phone over and back.

"If he doesn't sign, the name comes down and the money for the rink goes with it."

Lars said nothing.

"There's a team scholarship fund too. He started it the year I walked on."

"The one that pays for Pratt."

Ty looked up, surprised.

"Pratt's mother cleans offices," Lars said. "He told me. He can only afford to be here because of it."

"Seven guys are on it." Ty swallowed. "Cullen, two defensemen, a few freshmen."

"You know all that?"

"I've read the list."

Lars turned the coffee cup a quarter turn on the counter.

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