I gripped the porcelain sink hard enough to make my knuckles pop, forcing the adrenaline out of my system and locking my head back onto the game plan.
When I walked back into the bedroom a few minutes later, the sexual tension was boxed away. Karter and I sat on the floor and spent the next hour going through study notes in hushed voices.
Karter packed up his bag and slipped out sixty minutes later, leaving me alone in the dark. A dull ache settled deep in my back muscles. Between the ticking clock on my mom’s pawn shop visit and the massive risk of keeping Karter around, I spent most of the night wide awake, staring at the ceiling.
Sitting on the edge of my bed the next morning, the cold air bit right through my t-shirt. I grabbed the textbook off the floor to shove into my bag, but the front cover flopped open.
A bright yellow sticky note drifted down and landed on my thigh. I picked it up. Black ink was scrawled across the paper in a rushed, slanted print I instantly recognized as Karter’s.
I’ll keep my distance while the scouts are looking. Go get ‘em. K.
I stared at the yellow paper, then looked down at my dark phone screen. I had spent my entire life handling my own problems. But my ego was currently screwing over the only two people I actually gave a shit about.
Karter was backing off to protect my draft stock, and my mom was about to pawn her family silver just to keep the heat on. Trying to handle all this bullshit entirely alone wasn’t working anymore.
It was time to swallow my pride and do the one thing I hated most.
I folded the small piece of paper in half and shoved it deep into the side pocket of my gear bag. Snatching up my hockey sticks, I walked out into the fresh morning and headed straight to the rink.
The locker room was already loud. Equipment bags hit the wooden benches with heavy thuds, and a couple of guys were yelling over a rap track blasting from the corner speakers.
I stopped at the edge of the scuffed rubber floor mats, my fists clenched so tight that my palms hurt. Asking anyone for cash was a massive blow to my ego. Asking another broke scholarship guy like me felt like chewing on gravel. I forced my boots to move forward before my pride could talk me out of it.
I found Perez sitting at his stall. He was bouncing slightly on his toes, compulsively rolling his shoulders as he taped up the blade of his stick.
“Hey.” Keeping the tone flat took serious effort. “I need a favor.”
Perez looked up, his sharp eyes clocking my rigid posture instantly. His hands kept wrapping the tape. “Yeah? What’s up?”
“I need a loan.” The words tasted bitter as I swallowed. “A hundred and fifty bucks.”
The taping stopped. His hands rested on the stick. “Wait, are you serious?”
“Yeah. I am.”
Perez tilted his head, pointing at me with his chin. “Your mom’s landlord threatening shit again?”
“Heating bill this time,” I told him, keeping my eyes fixed on the floor. “My mom is going to pawn her family silver today if I don’t send the cash.”
Perez went totally quiet. He didn’t ask another question. He just dug his phone out of his pocket and tapped the screen, and frowned. I knew the kind of math he was doing. Perez was surviving on dining hall food and minimum-wage side-gigs just like me. Spotting me a hundred and fifty bucks was a big hit to whatever bank balance he had left.
“You don’t have to if you’re broke, man,” I mumbled, cracking my knuckles out of habit.
“Shut up, Zotov,” Perez replied, tapping the screen again. The phone vibrated in my pocket. “I mean... we Ice House guys look out for each other, right?”
“I’ll pay you back.”
“Just pay me back out of your first massive signing bonus.” Perez looked up from his phone, a quick smirk breaking the tension. He held up a hand.
I bumped my fist against his, sealing the agreement as my phone buzzed with the transfer notification.
“Thanks, Angel.”
I walked over to my own stall and dropped heavily onto the wooden bench. Opening my banking app, I transferred two hundred bucks straight to my mom’s account. Ten seconds later, the green confirmation screen lit up.
The heat would stay on. And she could keep her silver.
I stared blankly at the scratched gray metal of my locker. I wanted to be a guy who didn’t need bailouts, but that wasn’t my reality today.
