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I know, Coach. I know.
“Thanks, Coach.” I’m about to skate off, but he stops me.
“Our European Classic is coming up. Do you feel ready?” Shit. I forgot about that.
The European Classic is a supplementary hockey season that Coach somehow got us into. Because of a kick-ass fundraiser the hockey team hosts every year, we get to spend two months in Slovakia each fall, playing in different games to add to our highlight reel. It’s also good to have the professional leagues overseas see you in action.
“I’d say I’m ready. I just kind of forgot about it.”
He cocks an eyebrow at me. “This could be good for your sports resume, son. The Los Angeles Snowflakes like opportunities like these.” My dream team.
“I know, Coach.” Why is he giving me a hard time all of a sudden?
He gives me a suspicious look before nodding.
I skate to the other end of the rink. I get off and sit on the bench, sliding my skates off. I hear a string of wolf whistles and look to my side to see three females watching me. Normally I’d be flattered. Right now, I’m just annoyed. “Ladies, can you please give me some privacy?”
“I’d enjoy being private with youanyday, Larson,” the blond one says. They all start giggling, and I can’t help but chuckle at that.
“Ladies, ladies, ladies. Larson here is trying to let off some steam. We’d be happy to see you tonight at our back-to-school bash, but right now, give him some alone time,” Hunter says to them as he winks. They giggle yet again and scurry away. “So now that they’re gone...why are you still on your period?”
“Stop flirting with me, Hunter. I’m not in the mood.”
“Har. Seriously, dude. What’s up?” He sits next to me and takes his skates off.
“Nothing.”
He sees through this. “Please don’t tell me this is about that girl again.”That girl.
“It’s not. Just tired and ready to get some rest.”Andshower and think about her again.
“Okay,” he says, not completely convinced. “But don’t let it affect your game, Larson. We’re counting on you.”As you guys always are.
He then scurries away. And then Coach calls me again for the next drill. Here goes.
I’m out of the shower in ten minutes tops. I took care of business in the shower in um...honor of...um... Miss Walton. Shit, I can’t get her out of my mind. I don’t know why.But I do. I’ve never wanted a girl so badly to the point where I’d want seconds. Or thirds, or fucking fourths. I’m tempted to go to the track and tease her, but my phone beeps.
DAN:I hope you’ve been training. Draft day is in 10 months.
ME:Thx a bunch, dad. School’s going great, btw
DAN:Whatever...Get your ass in gear.
My “have a great first day” text from my father. What else is new? I look at the bruises on my stomach again from visiting him last week. Our fights aren’t even the usual abuse like it was. It’s more him saying the wrong thing about my performance on an old game on film, me telling him off, him beating my ass, me beating his, and then I head back to campus to put the usual ice on the bruise. Dad of the Year.
My phone beeps another text:
HUNTER:Party’s in 2 hrs, dude. Where you at?
ME:Just got out of the shower. I’ll be down there in a min
HUNTER:Kris called, dickhead. She’s looking for you.
ME:Too bad. I need to get myself pretty, so I’ll call her back.
Kris. I’d forgotten all about her. I need to get my mind off of things. I need a drink. And we’re all out of beer. I throw on a T-shirt and run downstairs.
“I’ll be back. I need some beers for tonight.”
