Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Voyageurs

Gilbert Comeau
bros!
all star list is out

Hayden Pike
how come you're telling us and not Drapeau?

Shane Hollander
he didn't make it again

Patrice Drapeau
thanks Shane
I was so fucking close this time
fuck Eric Bennett

Jake Merrell
he's a pretty decent guy actually

Patrice Drapeau
yes grandpa Jake
tell us about the season you played for the Admirals 50 years ago

Shane Hollander
calm down Drapeau
you'll make it next year since we're gonna win the cup this year

Wayne Thompson
Xie made it

Jake Merrell
did he?

Shane Hollander
he won the fan poll
huh

Jeremy McAllister
@Dylan_Xie you're officially an MLH all star!!!!

Dylan Xie
what
ah shit

Gilbert Comeau
typical reaction

Dylan Xie
no I mean
it's an honor or whatever
but I was gonna visit my sister in Boston all star weekend

Shane Hollander
fly her out to Arizona

Wayne Thompson
this is nonsense
Xie doesn't take any of this seriously

Dylan Xie
it's an exhibition match that doesn't count for anything
I'm playing enough hockey

Jean-Jacques Boiziau
how the fuck did Dylan win a popularity contest with hockey bros

Patrice Drapeau
the all star poll is open to everyone who's willing to sign up for the MLH promotional newsletter
and my guess is
wait it's not even a guess
.link

Jeremy McAllister
oh wow
this chick is some kind of hair influencer and got her followers to vote you in Dylan

Jean-Jacques Boiziau
guys check this out lmao
.link
she said in the video she doesn't know if Dylan is any good

Wayne Thompson
unbelievable

Shane Hollander
however it happened
it happened
sorry Dylan you will actually have to work an extra weekend

Gilbert Comeau
this chick has 82 million followers
what does she even do

Patrice Drapeau
she's more famous than Shane and Rozanov combined
hilarious

Hayden Pike
her videos
I mean
I don't get this

David Taylor
they're vapid as fuck you can say it Hayden
this stupid bitch ruined the all star line up
@Dylan_Xie do something

Dylan Xie
what the fuck am I supposed to do
I didn't realize this girl existed

Hayden Pike
guys it's just one slot and for the player the fans like
no need to act like she committed a crime against humanity

Dylan Xie
I could turn it down

Shane Hollander
absolutely not
no one turns down an all star spot unless they're injured or there's a death in the family
there's no hockey literacy test to vote on this dumb poll

Jeremy McAllister
guys look at this margin
Dylan got five times more votes than the second fan pick for the eastern conference

Gilbert Comeau
fuck it's Scott Hunter again
what kind of blood pact with Satan does he have?
even when he sucks ass he makes it to the all star game thanks to hockey bros

Wayne Thompson
the fan picks are not real all stars

Aubrey Williams
spoken as someone who'll never get picked by the fans
fake ones or not

Jake Merrell
any surprises besides Dylan?

Shane Hollander
you and I and Xie for our team
and JJ for the D lines
Wynn made it too

Gilbert Comeau
and Rozanov

Shane Hollander
yes and Rozanov too

Hayden Pike
the Wagners made it in
including the rookie Jamie
by stats not by fan poll

Patrice Drapeau
nepo baby fucks

Dylan didn't watch his MLH draft on stream or on TV. He'd been so sure he wouldn't be drafted that he'd skipped his junior league team's watch party in favor of helping his niece's sixth birthday party. Only reason he'd put himself up for the draft in the first place was because it was free and because one of his friends who was into video editing made a decent compilation of his best plays. It was something unique to put on his college application.

Chasing around little girls at the Chinese Culture Center had proved exhausting and he'd had an AP Calculus final exam the next day, so he'd put his phone on silent and went to sleep early. The truth was he'd forgotten all about the MLH draft.

He'd been woken next day by a ruckus. Half his junior team had shown up at his house early morning, frantic that he hadn't been answering calls or texts. His nainai, who understood way more English than she let on, had been furious that her home had been invaded by a bunch of loud white boys. And more so when they said something that distracted Dylan from apologizing.

"I was drafted?" Dylan demanded of Jeremy. Not McAllister, but a member of his junior team, another Jeremy with light brown hair and hazel eyes.

"By Montreal, dude. Tell me you checked your phone."

Dylan had finally turned on his phone, opened the email account he'd been using for his college applications, and there it was. An official email from the MLH with the standard rookie offer letter, identical to the template they'd shared on the official MLH website. Provisional contract, to be finalized after completion of a team's preseason training camp and definitive placement on the team's season roster.

In Dylan's case, for the Voyageurs in Montreal.

He'd agreed immediately, not thinking about how much money he would need, the chances that he would make it past the preseason camp, or the fact that said camp overlapped with the college fall semester. Hell, he didn't let himself consider the possibility that Henry Theriault had called out his number in the draft by mistake and that the instant one of his assistants pointed it out, the offer would be rescinded.

Against his mother and grandmother's advice--their very firm advice--he'd turned down Harvard and got on a plane to Montreal. His sister Yulan had helped out with some spending money since all his savings had gone to paying for housing for the month. Montreal was fucking expensive. He'd found a nice French Canadian retired couple that rented out their spare bedroom to teens doing summer training with the Voyageurs coaches. They'd even given him a discount once they realized that he was a draftee for the team.

While waiting, he'd reached out to the other two rookies Theriault had drafted via social media. Nik had replied, so he'd arrived knowing that he'd have at least one friend in the team. It was the only aspect of the whole thing that had made him feel a little optimistic.

In all honesty, he hadn't expected to make it through camp. Dylan was hardly a humble person; he was just realistic. His family had barely tolerated his hobby and only paid for hand-me-down gear if he aced all his classes. The few times his coach had tried to get them to agree to more time in the rink, they'd flatly turned him down. Even when he'd offered his time for free. Dylan had to go to school, after all. College tuition in the US was astronomical, so he needed to be good enough to apply for scholarships.

"And stop telling him he's exceptional," his mom had snapped. "He's already full of himself as it is."

He'd told himself that a month in Montreal, with the freaking Voyageurs, was worth delaying college for a year. He'd have a great story to tell, one that might make his college entrance essay a little less generic. That had become even less rational of an excuse once he received his acceptance letter from Harvard, but still. The fucking Voyageurs, man. Shane Hollander's team. Dylan might get to hang out with him! He couldn't turn it down.

No one had been more shocked than him when he not only made the team, but as a first liner.

And he still hadn't dared tell anyone that he maybe didn't like hockey as much as he thought he did back when it was the reward after endless hours of studying. Obviously, he still liked it. Loved it, even. But. . . but.

Once, Yulan had confided in him that she sometimes wanted to quit medicine. When it was because she was stressed out, she knew how to deal. An easier, or at least more enjoyable rotation would come along and she would feel a renewed sense of determination. But when everything was going well? Maybe amazing? Just the way she'd imagined?

"Imagine your favorite dessert," she'd said. "Imagine the best Longxusu you ever had. Amazing treat, right? Now imagine it's the only thing you can eat. Three times a day, plus two snacks. Every day. A week. Three weeks. Six months. A year. Three years. How long until you can't stand the sight of it anymore? Even if it's perfect?"

"Ah," Dylan had said. "How do you deal?"

"I remind myself I owe the United States Department of Education three hundred thousand dollars," said Yulan.

Well, Dylan did not owe anyone three hundred thousand dollars. All he had to get himself through years of Longxusu, of hockey, was love of the game. And the salary, of course. Even if all he managed was his three year contract and picked up zero endorsements, he'd have such a nice nest egg for himself and his family. If he was cautious with investments, he might spare his younger brother Nolan the need to take student debt at all.

So. Dylan better get over himself quick. He was thinking about how to do it at the Voyageurs' gym. Most players had gone home already, but Dylan was huddled next to the treadmills, scrolling through his tag in the corner of social media where hockey bros spent most of their time. It was not a heartening experience.

What the fuck is Theriault thinking??? this twink must be sucking his dick after every game.

Fuck you too, Hollanders#1stan.

Shane Hollander, prince of hockey himself, entered the gym and made a beeline towards him. Judging by the glint in his eyes, he was as happy with Dylan as his number one stan. "Xie, we need to go over the tape of our last game," he said. "Last two minutes."

"Sure." Last two minutes were always the worst, the part of every game when he got reckless. Mostly, it was okay since his linemates were literally the top and third ranked forwards in the Eastern conference. Last game, though, he'd gotten the puck.

He should have passed to Jake, like the play required, but he'd thought he'd seen an opening. He took a shot that shithead understudy Troy Barrett had intercepted and then passed to his shithead maestro, Dallas Kent. Kent had scored fifteen seconds later, delivering a victory to his Knights.

"You're supposed to pass to me or Merrell," said Hollander. "Not the opposing forwards."

"I was going for a goal," said Dylan, because he never knew when to shut the fuck up.

"Xie, this maverick shit's gonna cost you--cost us--every time it doesn't work out," said Shane. "You didn't have an opening then; the play wasn't bold, it was stupid."

Theriault had already given him this speech. "I know," said Dylan. "I'll be less impulsive next time."

"Good," said Shane. He was quiet for a few long moments. "Is everything. . .okay?"

What was he supposed to say? "I guess."

"You guess?"

"Do you ever think this is too much?" asked Dylan. More like burst out. It was a stupid question.

"What do you mean?" asked Shane.

"Like, maybe you should ask Theirault for another wing?" said Dylan. "Do I really need to be on the first line?"

"Beaty's needed on the second line and Comeau and Carmichael sure as shit can't compensate for you," said Shane. "So yes, we really do need you on the first line."

"Thanks, Shane."

"There's no need to thank me; I'm just pointing out our situation." Shane sighed deeply. "Look, you're not doing too terribly. You're very fast and when you focus, you keep up with me and Merrell."

"Thanks." Genuinely, this time.

"You're not Wynn, of course, but no one was expecting you to be."

"I got that much," said Dylan.

"Right," said Shane. "Anyway, that's all I wanted to say. Be here early tomorrow. We need to start preparing you for the All Star game."

"What?" Dylan frowned. "That's just an exhibition game."

Shane sighed again. "There's no just about it, Xie. Take this seriously. We can't have you embarrassing our team."

"Gentlemen," one the assistant coaches called out at the end of the next day. "Be here an hour early tomorrow for some interviews with Melissa's girls."

A few of the guys groaned but no one bothered to complain.

"Stay at my place tonight," Dylan said to Nik.

"Okay."

For some reason Dylan had yet to work out, Nik had opted for a small studio apartment about forty minutes away from the rink. It was cheaper, sure, but it was five stops away by light rail. Montreal's light rail system was really nice, but why bother with a commute at all when they had an MLH salary? Nik wouldn't listen to reason, though. At least he was willing to crash at Dylan's guest room, more so now that he was occasionally recognized on the way to work.

Later, while Nik played with his Nintendo Switch, Dylan checked out the videos from his influencer fan. A quick investigation revealed a sixteen year old brown-haired girl from Winnipeg who went by Cheche online. As far as Dylan could tell, she made videos about hair braiding techniques for people with straight hair, though her own hair war very curly. She looked very light skinned but also had quite a few collaborations with black girls. The online hair braiding community must be astronomical because she did indeed have a whopping eighty-two million followers.

Dylan told himself to focus. He could watch these tutorials later.

To make a long story short, the girl had seen him while her brother and father watched a game on TV. Dylan didn't recall the exact game, but it must have been at the end because he'd taken off his helmet to wave at fans. His own simple braided hairdo had caught her attention enough that she'd looked him up and watched all the reels of him Melissa had posted. Now, she was apparently in love with him.

Dylan couldn't help but blush. She was sixteen, a baby, so no wonder the guys were making fun of him. He watched the video where she'd instructed her followers to vote for him in the All Star online poll.

"Ladies, I have a quick favor to ask," she said to the camera. "The MLH poll for the All Star game coming up this year is running, and we can vote for Dylan. My stupid brother says he's overrated and doesn't deserve to be an All Star, and maybe that's true, whatever. Hockey's boring as hell. But the poll is open to everyone and since this is a special game, maybe Dylan will wear something special for it."

What? He'd wear whatever uniform he was assigned.

"I'll put the link on the description," Cheche continued. "All you need is a valid email address; it's totally free to sign up. The MLH will ask for permission to send you promo stuff and you don't have to agree, obviously, but I did! In case I can get discounts for game tickets." She frowned. "I mean, I'm not sure I can sit through an entire hockey game, but I could troll my brother with tickets. And there are discounts for jerseys and other merch. Let's do it, girls."

"Nik," Dylan said in despair. "Did you see the video from this hair braiding girl?"

"Yeah," said Nik, without looking up from his Switch. "It's fucking hilarious."

Okay, fine. It was. A bunch of teen girls had, to quote whoever in the group chat, fucked the All Star roster. If he wasn't involved, he'd be laughing hard enough to make his stomach hurt. Smiling, Dylan decided to look through some of Cheche's tutorials.

Next day, he opted for one of the more simple French braid styles from her videos, certain that the guys wouldn't notice a difference. Or they could. Dylan didn't care. He wondered if they'd last the entire plane ride to Buffalo. Either way, Dylan wouldn't risk keeping them for their upcoming game against the Wolves. He'd learned his lesson long ago about locks of hair falling in front of his eyes in the middle of second period.

Some of the guys did notice he'd done something different and chirped at him, but Dylan spared only a second to give them the middle finger before heading to Melissa's little studio.

"Congratulations," she said, beaming. The red frames of her glasses glinted. "You're officially an MLH All Star."

"Thanks," said Dylan.

"Do you know the girl who campaigned for you?"

Campaigned? Jesus. "No, I swear," said Dylan. "Apparently she saw me because her brother watches hockey or something. I was planning to visit my sister All Star weekend."

"Dylan, it's not against the rules to ask your fans to vote for you on the All Star fan poll," said Melissa, smiling calmly. "In fact, a lot of players do just that. It's an established route to get in the All Star game."

"Right." Dylan knew that, of course. It was just. . . guys made a case to their fans that their current stats weren't reflective of their true potential on the ice, or something to that effect. No hockey player would promise they'd 'wear something special' if they won the poll.

"In any case," said Melissa. "I was hoping we could film a short thank you message for this girl. It's also customary."

"Sure," said Dylan. He was annoyed, but he wasn't going to take it out on a sixteen year old girl. "Uh, just to send her directly, right?"

"It's customary to make a public gesture of gratitude," said Melissa, smile still in place.

"Right." Dylan took a short breath. "What camera do I look at?"

Melissa pointed it out and reminded him that they could edit out any excessive awkward pauses, or do more than one take, if it came to that. Fuck, he might as well have moved to LA and started auditioning for random movie parts.

"Just in case, I took the liberty of preparing some remarks," Melissa finished.

"That's okay." Dylan could come up with something better than whatever PR drivel she'd come up with. He got a long with Melissa, but she was still an advertiser. He looked at the camera. "Hi, Cheche. I was. . . surprised by your enthusiastic support, and I wanted to thank you. Being an MLH All Star is a great honor, which I'm sure that brother of yours knows."

Too sarcastic. He should dial it back.

"I watched some of your videos, and I found them very interesting. And useful." He gestured at his own head. "Please try not to put yourself down so much; I think your curls are beautiful. Um, you've said you don't care that much about hockey, but I think you should give it a chance. It's an amazing game; I can hardly describe it. It's like flying, which should be a scary, but it takes such intense focus to keep track of the puck, and your teammates, and your opponents. . . it's probably the only time my mind is ever truly quiet."

Okay, that was probably enough. No; one more thing.

"You might get more out of watching if you understood the game a little. That's true of almost everything in life--the more you understand it, the easier it is to see the beauty in it. There are a bunch of hockey explainers and tutorials online, if you're interested. There's the women's league too; their games are a little different, but very fast paced and impressive. And there are amateur leagues to try out for yourself. If you ever get a chance, give it a shot. It might surprise you how fun hockey can be. Anyway. Thank you, again." He looked at Melissa. "How was that?"

"That was excellent, Dylan," she said. "One take; thank you."

Thank God. Dylan retreated to the lounge to wait for Nik and Jeremy to do their interviews. They'd all agreed to go to head to the airport together. Carmichael joined them, which no longer surprised Dylan. At some point, Mr. The Third had decided he wasn't too good to hang out with his fellow commoner rookies.

The game against the Wolves was their worst of the season so far. Maybe it was something in the air. Shane and Jake kept fucking up passes to each other and the Wolves' D-men wouldn't let Dylan advance. Hayden's line didn't have better luck; Jeremy got into a big fight with an opposing right wing and landed himself in the penalty box. It was bullshit. Both guys had been at fault, but Shane failed to convince the referee. Home ice advantage was a bitch.

Their PK unit was missing J. J. because he was off for a family thing so Gleason, the Wolves' captain, delivered a goal. His second one of the night. Three minutes later, Shane scored, but they were still behind. Nik got into a fight with a different Wolf and once again, the Voyageurs got screwed on a power play. Comeau managed a goal before the end of second period, tying the game, but it did little to lift the air of frustration in their box.

"What the fuck is going on, guys?" asked Comeau.

"Nothing's going on," said Shane. "We're tied. One more goal, and we can pack up and go home."

They did not score another goal. Worse than that, the Wolves managed two more. One of their forwards crashed into Dylan and they both fell. Dylan bit his upper lip, a small bite, but deep enough to draw blood. It looked worse than it was, and he didn't get a chance to tell Nik to chill out.

The referee was not amused when, minutes later, Nik went after the offending forward. Dylan skated over to try and separate them, which drew the attention of a defenseman. Soon, it was an outright brawl. Nik landed himself in the penalty box and once again, their PK unit didn't hold out. Three-to-two.

That would have been bad enough. Then, as if to rub it in, Gleason pulled off a last goal with twelve seconds left on the clock. A hat trick, and also a final fuck you to the challenging team.

"Guys," Shane said later in the locker room. "That was a clusterfuck. Let's take the night to try and relax, and tomorrow we sit and watch that embarrassment together. Don't add insult to injury by doing something stupid at the clubs."

While they were all filing out, Jeremy leaned over. "Don't forget about One Piece tonight. Joe's room! His secretary always gets him a nice single."

"I don't have a fucking secretary," said Carmichael.

"Yeah, bro, he has a servant," said Dylan.

"Fuck you," mumbled Carmichael. "She's my mother's personal assistant."

One of the guys let out an ugly snort-laugh, which was better than any comeback Dylan could come up with.

Voyageurs

Patrice Drapeau
lines for the all star game are out

Shane Hollander
I get Wynn back for the night!!!!!

Jean-Jacques Boiziau
surely you could've phrased that another way

Shane Hollander
what?

Jake Merrell
screenshotting that for my Bears group chat

Shane Hollander
you're in the Bears group chat still?

Patrice Drapeau
and no fucking intel for us?

Jake Merrell
not the official group chat
the legacy group chat for the traded players

Hayden Pike
hey we should make one of those for the Voyageurs

Dylan Xie
I get to play on Rozanov's line!!!!

Jake Merrell
screenshotting that too

Dylan Xie
yeah I'm sure Rozanov will be shocked and amazed dudes want to play on his line

Shane Hollander
Rozanov is a pest when he has no need to be
no one wants to play on his line

Jake Merrell
delusional statement Hollander
also
.png

Jeremy McAllister
lol
Rozanov gets Jake back for the night!!!

Wayne Thompson
how come Xie gets to first line?
he's only in this because of teen girls

Dylan Xie
because God loves me Wayne
he'll get Gretzky to unretire and age him down to his prime just so he can play a couple of games with me

Patrice Drapeau
they're making this into another Hollander-Rozanov showdown
reversing the Wynn-Merrell trade
not bad for a gimmick

Shane Hollander
I get Jamie Wagner for the night too

Greg Cornick
again with the phrasing bro

Hayden Pike
I wonder why Jamie

Shane Hollander
he's doing very well
he might come close to me and Rozanov goals wise this season

Hayden Pike
I mean his name
Jack Julius and Jamie?
that's not gonna be cute when he's forty

Patrice Drapeau
pretty sure his legal name is James
his PR team is capitalizing on his boy band good looks while he still has them

Wayne Thompson
degenerate little fag

Jeremy McAllister
whatever man
pretty sure Jamie Wagner is drowning under a cascade of pussy

Gilbert Comeau
watch out bros
someone loaned Jer a dictionary

Jeremy McAllister
bitch I know cascades
I like nature

Dylan was getting into the spirit of things. He was a fucking MLH All Star. Melissa was right. Fan polls were a legitimate way to get into the All Star roster that had been around forever. He was going to Phoenix to play with the generation's talents, and no amount of whining from hockey bros would change that. To spite them, Dylan resolved to score at least one goal.

On more superficial note, he'd get a red/gold jersey with his name on it. Dylan looked great in red and gold. He got over the inherent doucheyness of it and ordered a few jerseys shipped back home for his mom to store, some of them in larger sizes. Someday, when he was old and fat, he might want to wear them. Relieve his glory days, or something. He went ahead and shipped a few to Yulan as well. Too bad she couldn't make it out to Phoenix.

"Bros!" Jeremy called out as he suddenly walked in, Carmichael trailing behind him with the usual annoyed look on his face. "I have a great idea."

"I doubt that," mumbled Dylan, even as Nik sat up straight.

"We are going to the Grand Canyon," said Jeremy, a big grin splitting his face. The corners of his nose were red and flaky since he refused to moisturize.

"Like the whole team?" asked Nik.

"No, just us four," said Jeremy. "As senior rookie of the Voyageurs, I'm planning the trip after the All Star game."

"Senior rookie is not a thing," said Carmichael. "You made that up."

"Dude, the Grand Canyon is like four hours away from the rink," said Dylan, going back to his phone. What other All Star merch with his name could he throw money at?

"No, come on, guys," said Jeremy. "I got it all figured out. We don't have another game until the Tuesday after, in Calgary. If we head out to the Grand Canyon right after the game, we can stay the night at the Maswick Lodge and then hike down Bright Angel next day. The campground is like five miles away, so we can hike back up that same day, drive back to the airport, and be at Calgary with plenty of time to rest before our game."

"Pass," said Nik.

"Bro!" whined Jeremy.

"I'm not squeezing into a freaking Spirit airplane seat if I can help it," said Nik.

"Spirit?" said Carmichael.

"Dude, you don't have to pretend you don't know Spirit Airlines," said Dylan.

"Who the fuck said anything about Spirit Airlines?" Jeremy growled. "We are MLH players. Nik, I'll get your cheap ass a first class ticket on a real airline."

"No, thanks."

"Dylan, talk to your boyfriend," said Jeremy.

"Did you even clear this with Coach?" asked Dylan.

"Sometimes, it's better to ask for forgiveness than permission," said Jeremy.

"So, no," said Carmichael.

"Guys, let's not be pussies," said Jeremy. "It's the Grand fucking Canyon."

Carmichael sagged down onto one of the couches. "No one cares about some giant hole in the ground, Jer."

"It's not just a giant hole in the ground!" Jeremy inched closer to Nik. "Nikki, remember Last Breath of the Dragon? When you go down Death Valley to beat that optional dragon boss?"

Nik looked up, eyes narrowed.

"Remember how the game said there was five thousand feet of elevation change so we had little mini dungeons on the way? Well, Bright Angel it's like that for real. You feel the air change and the plants and shit look different, and then near the bottom there's this little mini forest looking thing. If we had more time we could hike all the way down to the Colorado River."

"Is there a dragon down there?" snorted Carmichael.

"Yeah, her name is your Mom's pussy," said Jeremy.

Carmichael growled and launched himself at Jeremy. Dylan dived out of the way, rolling his eyes, and let Nik separate the two idiots. He had to admit that Jeremy did make the Grand Canyon sound cool. But was it worth it giving Coach a heart attack and Shane an aneurysm? If all four of them managed to get themselves stranded in bumfuck Arizona, they'd have to forfeit their next game.

While Carmichael and Jeremy were sniping at each other, Wayne Thompson walked into the lounge and glared at them. He made a disgusted noise, prompting them to pause, and then Jeremy beamed.

"Wayne!" he said. "Are you bringing your family to the All Star game this year? Has Michael seen the Grand Canyon yet?"

"I didn't make the All Stars this year," said Thompson.

Dylan almost pointed out that he'd never made the All Stars. It was unnecessary, but so was Thompson's determination to remind everyone that Dylan wasn't a "real" All Star at every opportunity.

"I didn't either but I'm still going to the game," said Jeremy.

"You're such a loser, Jeremy," said Thompson. Though it barely counted as far as chirps went, it still made Jeremy wilt.

"It's a good idea, McAllister," said Dylan. "Let's do it."

"Yeah?" said Jeremy.

"Seriously?" said Carmichael.

"Okay, let's do it!" said Nik. "I'm in too."

And that was that. Jeremy went as far as getting their flights to Calgary and renting a red Mustang convertible for their little trip. Much to Dylan's surprise, his brother Nolan asked if he could come along. He didn't care about hockey, but apparently the unique ecosystems of the Grand Canyon would make for an excellent extra credit assignment, one worth losing his perfect attendance record for the school year.

"How are we gonna pull with an eleven year old tagging along?" demanded Carmichael.

"You planning to pull a fucking cactus, man?" said Jeremy. "Bring your bro, Xie. The Canyon is gonna blow his little mind away."

"And the game too," said Nik.

"Eh, knowing Nolan?" Dylan shrugged. "He's definitely in it for the Grand Canyon."