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“Chill. I’ll give it back...after I figure out why the hell this confirmed bachelor is looking up first date ideas. You taking your cock out for dinner before you jerk it?”
His head is down and he’s scrolling through my phone. The next swipe will take him to the page where I keep the WolfChat app. Feigning total in difference, I lean forward to take a drink, just as my left hand darts out and steals the phone right back. I pocket it before any more damage can be done.
“You fucking douche!” Ethan wails, just as Coach walks back into the room.
“Charming fucking language, Schuler. Just for that, you’re on dish duty. And if you break one goddamn piece of china, I’ll hand you your ass, understood?”
Ethan stands there, gaping, while we all stifle laughs.
“And the rest of you assholes can clear the table and box up the leftovers.” Having issued those instructions, Coach walks back into the kitchen, grabs a whole pie and a fork. “See you for optional skate tomorrow, boys.”
We’ve been dismissed. But behind his gruff exterior, Coach is a great guy. I’m proud to play for him. He’s taken a misfit program and made it into a formidable opponent in only a few years, and I admire the hell out of him for that.
It takes no time to clear the table, considering there are four of us doing the task. Ethan’s bitching up a storm about the dishes, but we ignore him and pack up the leftovers. The freshmen stick around to help because he’s a senior, and for some reason, they look up to him.
Before heading out, we duck into the den, and bid Coach a good night. “Schuler still on dish duty?”
“Yea, but he’s got the freshmen, Mikalski and Norris, helping him now,” Van tells him.
“Christ Almighty. If they clog my disposal, I’m blaming you three. Have a good night, boys.”
“Thanks again, Coach,” I say as we grab our jackets and head out. We pile into Van’s car and make our way home. They both still live at the hockey house, and it’s nights like this that I miss living there. I definitely don’t miss the chaos, and I love having my own place, but sometimes it gets lonely.
“You want me to take you to your place, Koz, or you wanna crash at ours?”
It’s tempting to chill with the guys and watch a game or have a Call of Duty battle. But Schuler will return with the freshmen in tow, since the dorms are closed, so I decline. “Nah, take me to mine. Thanks.”
I live at the Poplar Lane Apartments, which aren’t too far off campus, so it only takes a few minutes before Van’s turning into my lot and we’re repeating our goodbyes.
I take the steps three at a time until I’m up on the fourth floor and keying in to my place. I flick on a light and hang my jacket on a hook. After grabbing a quick shower, I throw on sweats, and lean back against my headboard. Reflexively, my hand drifts to my phone and I pull up the app.
She responded.
***
Ashley
Holidays at my dad’s house are always chaotic, but I love them anyway. My dad’s been married four times and has the stepchildren to prove it. I come from marriage number two. Despite his many trips down the aisle (and several more proposals that never made it that far), my dad is a really good guy, and I love him.
His house is noisy on regular days, but on holidays, it reaches a whole other level. I’ve counted four dogs, three children under the age of three, and half a dozen kids under 18. It’s crazy.
But the food is delicious, and I’m curled up in a comfy chair in the living room with a slice of pumpkin pie. Molly, my older half-sister, and one of my favorite people in the world, is sprawled out on the couch across from me.
“Ok, Ash, I’m going to ask the obligatory questions, but the difference is that I’m actually invested in your answers, and ready to call you on your bullshit.”
“Fire away, Molls.”
“How’s school? I feel like we haven’t talked in way too long.”
She’s right and I nod. “I know. I’ve been crazy busy this year. My schedule is packed, but the end is in sight. And you were busy planning your not-a-wedding, so we haven’t connected in a while.”
“Our not-a-wedding was epic,” her not-a-husband Everett says, joining us. “That’s what the kids say, right? Epic?”
“Yea, baby. About ten years ago. You know, when you were thirty,” she teases him, and he tickles her before snuggling up next to her on the couch. Their relationship may be a little less than traditional-- they threw a big party but didn’t get married. They just decided to publicly declare their love for each other and live happily ever after together. If you ask me, that’s a wedding, but Molly was adamant that she didn’t want the piece of paper of the legal stuff. So, they threw a hell of a party to celebrate their commitment to each other. I can get behind that.
“So, if I’m interpreting your words correctly, clinicals are awesome, lectures are kicking your ass, and there's barely enough coffee to get you through what’s left of the semester. Do I have that right?”
I smile. “Pretty much.”
