I arrived with Asher, who had been silent the whole walk over. We were cool in the dorm, but then I mentioned the summer as we were leaving, and he got quiet. Even when I razzed him about dumb shit, he just kind of shrugged and smiled. That wasn’t like him. He was smarter than me and usually had a comeback for whatever I dished out.
“You good, man?” I asked as I filled our cups up with whatever disgusting garbage was bubbling in the keg.
Asher said nothing—just looked at the ground with vacanteyes and a clenched jaw. I could tell he was thinking about something, but I had no idea what.
“Hello? Dude, are you still on this planet?” I waved my hand in front of his face, snapping him out of his deep thinking.
Asher blinked a few times, then looked up at me with a questioning look. “Huh? What?”
“Dude, what’s the matter with you? You’ve been quiet this whole time.”
Asher shook his head and took a sip from the drink I’d handed to him. “Nothing. Just thinking about summer and all. Moving back home. Logistics and whatnot.”
“Dude! Are you doing PCSHL? My folks just paid the player’s fee. You know that shit is prime exposure.” The Premier Collegiate Summer Hockey League was one of the most elite summer hockey leagues within the area, and the best way for players looking to catch scouts’ eyes. It was one of the top ways for NCAA guys to get on the radar. Once scouts saw you perform well in PCSHL, they’d follow your college career closely or even offer you a spot on a farm league team right then and there.
The color drained from Asher’s face, and he closed his eyes as if in pain. “I’d forgotten all about that.”
“No sweat, dude. You can still sign up. The cut-off date isn’t for another week.” If anyone should have done PCSHL, it was Asher. He’d had a stellar freshman year—got more time on the ice than any other rookie on the whole team. I wouldn’t have been surprised if he was already on a few scouts’ radars.
His eyes trailed down again, his head shaking with a look of utter defeat. “I can’t afford it. I just…I just can’t swing it this summer. I’m going to have to work multiple jobs again. I won’t have any scholarships to help me out while I’m back home.” Asher’s voice broke on the word home. For a moment, Ithought he might cry.
Fuck. I shouldn’t have brought it up. Asher was so tight-lipped about his homelife that I kind of just forgot how rough he had it. He worked constantly while we were in high school, so I knew enough, but he never talked about it. I also hadn’t heard him talk about money this whole year, but that was probably because of his scholarships. It was a $1500 per-player fee to join PCSHL. It was on the higher end because it was such an elite opportunity.
“I’m sorry, dude.” It was all I could say. Fuck, why did I bring it up? I felt like such a dick. My mind raced with trying to come up with something else to say to make it better. “Dude, they have to have need-based aid. You should reach out.”
Asher shook his head. “It’s not just the player’s fee. I have to work because I need—” he stopped short, his eyes scanning the area as if he were looking for answers. “I just need to work, okay? It’s hard to explain. I’ll barely have time to play.”
I was so annoyed with myself for bringing it up. “You don’t need that shit, man. You aced it this year. I’d bet good money you’re already on someone’s radar with the way you played your freshman year.”
Asher rolled his eyes and said, “Yeah. We’ll see where I am next year after doing nothing but playing street hockey while you’re all at amazing summer leagues.”
Damn, I really blew it with this one.
My gut clenched knowing I’d upset him. It was fucked up that there weren’t scholarships for summer leagues. I’d never realized how much money was needed to get ahead in sports because I never had to worry about it. It hurt my heart that someone as talented as Asher wouldn’t have that opportunity because he didn’t have the money for the deposit. Everyoneon the team came from privilege except for Asher, and that pissed me off. We should be helping him out more. “Maybe the team can chip in and help you—”
The fire in Asher’s eyes immediately shut me up. “No. I don’t want that, and you better not tell anyone about this.” He stood with clenched fists and cheeks that grew redder by the moment. I’d never seen him react that way before.
“Sorry, Red. I would never say something without asking you first. I didn’t mean to—”
Asher shook his head and put up his hand to stop me from speaking. “No, that was my bad. I’m sorry, Theo. I shouldn’t have reacted like that. It was a nice thought, I just…I…”
I wrapped my arm around his shoulder and pulled him in for a hug. “I get it, Red. You don’t have to explain.”
He smiled, genuinely smiled, and it made my whole chest turn warm. “Thanks,” he said. “You’re a real one, Theo.”
I could tell he was still a little uncomfortable about the whole thing, so I decided it was time to change the topic. “Dude, if I don’t get to shove my face into Abigail’s tits before we go home for the summer, I’m gonna lose my fuckin’ mind.”
That one did it. He cackled and said, “You’re a fucking pig, man.”
“Nah, I’m just honest. Plus, she’s smart as fuck and pretty much annihilates every dude who tries to come onto her. You know I love ‘em mean and bossy. Nothing gets me going like a challenge.”
Asher shook his head and tapped our cups together. “Well, cheers to your complicated taste in women. I can’t think of a better recipe for marital bliss than mean and bossy.”
“It worked for my folks,” I said as I gulped a big swig of beer.
“Your mom’s not mean and bossy,” Asher argued.
“Not to you, she’s not. Come on, let’s go talk to Abigail and her friend.”
