“No. They’re not.” Pinkies linked together, we sigh in unison. “The other day at dinner, I told you that I liked you, and I meant it. Being around you makes me happy, and I want you in my life. For now, I can only offer you friendship. I’m not sure if that would be of interest to you, but–”
“It would be,” I pretty much yell in his face. “It is, I mean. It sucks, but I get it. Like you said you have responsibilities and I have school and hockey. I don’t want to be without you, so if friends is all we can have then friends it is.” For now.
Leaning into each other, fingers still twisted, we fall into a comfortable silence that lasts both too long, and not nearly long enough.
“I really do need to check that strapping.”
I raise my arm and glance to my non-existent watch, earning another precious chuckle. “Five minutes of friendship and you’re already trying to get me naked. I’m shocked and appalled … and turned on.”
When James shakes his head and pushes off from the desk, I somehow manage to swallow the pitiful cry of, don’t stop touching me, but only just. “Ha ha, smartass. Now shut up and get that gear off.”
My shoulder heldup well after my first week of light training, which means I’ll be back at full strength just in time for our first practice game against Harvard next week. We only have two or three between other New England teams, but they’re a great opportunity to wear our new away jerseys, all white with maroon bands, and to test out our new lines, new goalies, and new opponents.
One of them being Hoffman. With little-to-no warning, and undoubtedly aided by a generous Daddy’s provided donation, the asshole transferred to Harvard. It’s a true gift from the gods, in my humble opinion, but it does leave our defensive pairings with little time to restructure.
Enter James Plum.
So, I knew he used to play in goal, but I had no idea of the hockey brain lurking beneath those curls. Apparently, neither did Brady. “I came early and found this, watching that.”
Thethisis James working with Brody, Bailey, Dean and Robbie, the remaining defenseman. Thethatis the smile James sports and he drops into a near perfect butterfly.
“What the hell’s going on? Is every clock I own wrong?” We both jump at Coach’s voice, with Brady going straight on the defensive.
“Nothing! I mean, I couldn’t sleep so I came in early to use the gym. They were already here.” Brady points to the boys crowded around the net. “James wanted to help out, but didn’t want to bother you when you’ve got so much on. Dean said he texted them all last night, and as suspected, he texts slower than your grandpa.” Having shared those Grindr exchanges with James, I can say this is not always true. Wisely, I decide to keep my mouth shut.
Hand slipping beneath his cap to scratch his head, Coach nods. “Well I’ll be. Look at that footwork.”
“I know!” I add a little too enthusiastically. “He’s bloody brilliant.”
“A smile wouldn’t hurt, though. Do I look that grumpy?” he adds, right as James pinches the bridge of his nose, the antics of the easily distracted boys starting to grate.
Normally he looks, and sounds, a hundred times more pissed, but I’m not touching that with a ten foot pole. Poor Brady, though, is in the unenviable position of not only being an employee, but an almost son-in-law. “‘Course not. Coach. You always seem … ah, not grumpy.”
Somehow Coach seems placated by this, and minutes pass by with grunts and hums of approval as our only communication. It’s me who breaks the silence, nudging Brady’s foot when he fails to respond the first time. “Brades, did James ever say why he quit?”
“What? Oh, yeah, nah he’s never told me. What about you, Coach?”
“Something about his family,” he replies, focus never shifting from the ice where James just gloved a stinging one-timer. “Not exactly sure what. Shame though. If he can move like that after all these years, imagine what he’d be like fully fit and in his prime.” I’m fairly certain my imaging that would lead to me breaking the all-time, non-stop jerking off record, so I try very hard not to.
That becomes more difficult when James, tired of his protege’s shenanigans, calls it quits and skates our way, cheeks flushed red, and a determined glint in his eye. “Any one of you could have stepped in to help me out, you know.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” Coach huffs. “It’s not often I get gifted with someone who’s as good with his hands.” While I erupt into the loudest coughing fit ever coughed, Brady slaps my back and Coach continues, eyeing me suspiciously. “What was I saying? Yes, who’s so gifted in so many ways. Physiotherapy, car washing, hockey skills. What’s next James? You going to whip us up a six course meal?”
“You’re too generous, and I can assure you that’s where the talent stops.” It’s said with a pointed look towards me. One in which I raise my brows too, hoping to convey,I didn’t say anything, with my eyes. “I hope you don’t mind me working with the boys. I’m not trying to usurp you. Just wanted to give them a goalie’s perspective of screening.”
“And how did they go? Think any of it sunk in?”
“Yeah.” He nods, taking the water bottle he’d rested on the boards, squirting it directly into his mouth, swallowing, then licking off a drip beading on his bottom lips. Not that I’m noticing. “In the first twenty minutes I’d say most of it did. After that, well, let’s say my deaf cat Cleo would have picked more up. That didn’t help.” He points to the opposite side of the rink where, what the fuck? My sister and her bestie Chloe, who—unlike Cherry—is a student here, are watching on.
“Isn’t that your sister?” Brady asks, adding. “How did you not see her?” I can hardly say my eye balls were otherwise engaged, but they were.
“I haven’t put my contacts in yet.” Everyone here knows I wouldn’t even see them if that was true, and I don’t hang around for them to tell me that. Instead I break into a sprint and do a lap around the boards. “What are you doing here? The womb, home, O’Reilly’s? Must you infiltrate every area of my life?”
“Settle Gretel. Chloe’s sister plays the women’s team, remember? We came to see her but I thought I’d pop in and say hi to my favorite bro.” Cherry leans around me to scan the ice. “Is Sam here?” I slap my palm onto the crown of her head and twist it to face me.
“Not yet, but he will be. Shame you’ll be gone. Goodbye.”
“But I just?—”
