Tesoro: I was trying it on for size.¿No te gusta?
Ares: I like it just fine.
I don’t want to confess the pathetic truth that no one has ever been so endeared to me that they called me something sweet. Except Mamá, but that’s different. Your family has to call you nice things. I’m a give-no-shits kinda guy, and as a result, I kinda get no shits given back. It’s never bothered me. It’s who I am, but with Eloise… it’s different.
It’s like vines of ivy are slowly growing through the crevices of my heart and forcing it to beat, to race, tofeel. It’s uncomfortable, but I think that’s what growth is supposed to feel like. Maybe? I have no fucking idea.
Tesoro: You know you can’t sit outside all night, right?
Ares: I would if I thought it would help.
Ares: Can I see you tomorrow?
Tesoro: Don’t you have a game?
Checking the date, I confirm that tomorrow is in fact Friday and our first game of a double header against the Wisconsin Wolves. Not only do I have a game, but I have morning skate, too. Considering our last two games went down in flames—the Flint fucking Flames—I’m going to need to pull my shit together to make sure we don’t have a rerun this weekend.
Ares: I do. I have morning skate then I’ll lift at the gym, but I don’t have class until eleven. Want to meet for breakfast around nine? If you need to study, I can bring some books and it can be a working breakfast.
I know. I sound desperate, needy, like I didn’t see her less than an hour ago. But I want to see her tomorrow, to curl my arms around her tiny frame, kiss her forehead, and make sure her dad didn’t fuck her up too badly with his verbal assault about her lowlife boyfriend.
Tesoro: You want to study with me… in public? Aren’t you afraid your rep will get dinged by hanging out with me?
Ares: I’m going to take a picture of me kissing you senseless and put it on my Instagram for that comment.
Tesoro: I might even let you. See you at Bitches Brew, 9am.
* * *
I barely slept. I tossed and turned all night wondering whether Eloise was going to show for breakfast and hang out with me, or whether a night of sleep would somehow make her go back on what she said and leave me. Nervous energy fizzled through me through practice, and I almost knocked myself out at the gym with a weighted bar.
I’d say that it all went fine because I have some supportive teammates who have my back, but as it turns out, that’s not all they have.
They have ammunition.
My darlinghermanamayor, Athena, told my brothers that I’m in a committed relationship with a woman. And every single time I missed a puck or was slow to recover in my crease they cracked a joke about me being distracted by a woman.
The more I denied it, the more they pushed on that fucking button.
Pendejos.
I’m showered, my kit is in my car, and I seem to have lost the chuckle brothers. I wouldn’t put it past them to have followed me around campus to catch a glimpse of her. I swear, when any of my siblings land themselves a partner, I am going to roast the shit out of them for all the crap they’ve given me about Eloise in a few short hours.
I arrive at Bitches Brew about fifteen minutes early, but I figure I’ll grab us a table, get our drinks orders in and wait for my girl to arrive. Inside the door, the line is about ten people long, and I dunno about Eloise, but the noise level is a few decibels too high for me to study.
I’m hoping the crowd thins out and people have to get themselves to class, otherwise I’ll be taking my girl back to the library. I’m not going to be the reason she flunks out of nursing school. And I refuse to give her dad any additional reasons to hate me.
When I get to the counter the line is as long behind me as it was in front of me. It’ll take forever to line up again, so I make an executive decision. I order drinks, and because we’ve never discussed food choices or allergies before I stare at the menu for a few long seconds before saying fuck it. I’ll get a bunch of shit and hopefully she’ll like something.
Kelly and Micah are working this morning, and to her credit Kelly doesn’t judge me when I ask her for a slice of both flavors of quiches, two of the different scones on offer, a parfait with granola, and two breakfast bagels, one with extra hash browns.
We’ll call it a breakfast picnic, and if there happens to be anything leftover that I can’t cram into my grumbling stomach, one of us can take it home. Perfect plan.
I wait for our order at the end of the counter, and by the time she arrives, pink cheeked and bundled up in a huge calf-length bright yellow coat, I’ve found a table.
She looks around, and I throw my hand up in the air, waving to try to catch her attention. She approaches, a shy smile on her face, and as she slides her huge coat off her tiny body and onto the back of her chair I stand up. She stares at me like she’s not sure what the etiquette is, and it occurs to me, I don’t know either.
This is our first real, in person… thing, and I don’t know if we’re a PDA kind of couple or not.
