Trashcan Tattle with Tabitha
Tittle Tattle ’round the Trashcan tells me that our wild child netminder, the one and only #32, Casanova himself, has finally settled down into a relationship.
Someone needs to check that hell hasn’t frozen over, Tattlers, or make sure the definition of monogamy hasn’t changed in the dictionary for that matter, either. As the youngest of the de la Peña brood, Ares is not at all known for his commitment to anything other than the game.
He’s been seen cozying up with a pink-haired delight—nope, not as you might have guessed, our beloved barista from Bitches Brew—rather a fellow freshman local whose name this humble reporter has not yet been able to procure. It’s only a matter of time, though.
I find myself hoping that our resident bad boy has finally found the person to bring calm and stability to our goaltender. Further rumors suggest scouts have been sniffing around the Trash Can, with prospective offers from NHL teams not only here in Iowa and in Minnesota, but also Calgary, and Nevada on the table.
Will our King of the Crease stick around in his home state? Or will he opt to play for a team farther afield? And what will that mean for his cotton candy-haired girl?
Heard a rumor? Spied one of the delicious de la Peña brothers or any of the Raccoons out in the wild? Click here to contact Trash Can Tattle with Tabitha.
CHAPTER25
Eloise
How is this my life?
I left Ares to come home and shower. He offered to let me join him for his “quick rinse,” but if I’d gone with him, I’d definitely be walking funny, and he’d have been late to practice.
Later.
In fact, I might already be walking funny.
My hair is twisted on top of my head in a towel. I’m clean, I’m dressed, and I’m making a hot chocolate—because you only live once, and the night I had constitutes as the most exercise I’ve had in a while, so I need to balance that out with an influx of chocolatey calories. Or something.
I’m really not sure whether Ares was in sound mind when he invited me to his family’s Thanksgiving, and I’m not sure whether or not he’d have told anyone else in his family. He strikes me as the impulsive guy who turns up to dinner with friends without having told anyone he was bringing any.
Only one thing for it. I need to settle my anxiety and double check with someone in his family that it’s okay for me to go in the first place. I would literally die of mortification if I showed up and no one expected me. Die. Like, dead.
I lean against the edge of the kitchen counter and pull my phone off charge.
Eloise: Hey Athena, it’s Eloise. Ares’s girlfriend.
I feel like an idiot, but the three dots telling me that she’s typing appear pretty quickly.
Athena: You’re the only Eloise I know, Pixie. Talk to me, Goose.
Athena: It occurs to me that you might not have seen Top Gun, so I’ll follow that up with a “What’s up?” To make doubly sure you catch my meaning.
I smile, enjoying the fact she’s already calling me a nickname. Is that a Dominican thing? The de la Peñas all seem to call each other a variety of names and now they’re giving me nicknames too. Now isn’t the right time to admit that I haven’t seenTop Gunor the new one,Maverickor whatever.
Eloise: Ares invited me to Thanksgiving.
Athena: My brother Ares?
My smile has developed into laughter. I knew something was hinky about him asking me.
Eloise: The one and only.
Athena: Invited you to Thanksgiving?
Eloise: Yup.
Athena: At my parents’ house?
Eloise: Affirmative.
