Page 12 of Shots on Net

“You didn’t have to buy me dinner.” He sounds puzzled, and a little bit sad.

“I’m the one who suggested it,” I point out, glaring at him.

“Well, by that logic I should have paid for the putt-putt since I’m the one who suggested that.”

Damn. Good point. “Listen, just forget about it, okay? It doesn’t matter. I don’t mind.”

He looks like he has more to say, but he also looks like he doesn’t want to argue. Breaking eye contact, I shovel a few more nachos into my mouth before grabbing the hot dog. Coach Mackenzie would shit himself if he saw what I was eating right now. There is a soft crunch as Zeke bites into a chip, and I glance up at him. I hope he eats that whole tray of food. He looks like he might need the calories.

“Thanks,” he says.

“Don’t mention it.” Really, though, I hope he does stop mentioning it.

A cheer goes up from the course and we both look over. There are a group of teenagers celebrating a hole-in-one. They’re all smiling, several of them wrapped up together like they’re couples. It’s a happy group, and I feel a familiar pang of jealousy as I watch them. I’ve never quite figured out how to negotiate social situations appropriately, always unsure of myself and what people were thinking about me. It’s easier to just remain aloof and on the outside, so that’s what I do. Turning forward on the bench seat, I face Zeke. His face is tipped upward, eyes on the sky. Mimicking him, I try to figure out what he’s staring at.

“What the hell are you looking at?” I shove the rest of my hotdog in my mouth and wait for Zeke to look at me. He points a finger skyward.

“Betelgeuse.” I stare at him, blankly, until he continues. “Orion’s left shoulder. The constellation?”

“Okay.” I look up again. All the stars look the same to me.

“Here.” He moves around the table and slides in next to me. Leaning against my shoulder, slightly, he points up. “See those three stars all in a row? That’s Orion’s belt. His left shoulder—the star Betelgeuse—is the red star. It’s 10 million years old. And get this, it’s like 700 light years away, which means that it takes the light from that star 700 years to reach Earth. So right now we are seeing a star from 700 years ago.”

He looks at me, then, smiling broadly and eyes shining with happiness. I’m a little intimidated by his ability to spout random facts at me. It sets me off balance and makes me feel like an idiot, which is stupid because he clearly isn’t doing it with malice. Clearing my throat, I look away from his eyes and back up at the star.

“That’s cool.”

“Right? Astronomy is fascinating. Sometime, if you’d like, we could go to the planetarium.”

I nod, feeling like it’s easier to agree than argue. I’m not smart; if we go to the planetarium, I’ll only end up embarrassing myself. Zeke looks placated, though, and has turned his attention away from the sky and back to his food. Eventually, he points a fry at me.

“What are you doing next weekend?” He asks.

“Games on Friday and Saturday. Nothing else planned.”

“Alright. Want to do something again next weekend? We could make this a regular thing.” He grins like he’d love nothing more than to spend every weekend hanging out with me.

“Okay,” I tell him, a little uncomfortable with how nice he is, “that sounds good.”

“I chose mini golf which means next weekend is all you.”

“Okay,” I say again, because apparently, I don’t have anything more concrete to add to the conversation. Zeke doesn’t seem to mind, happy enough that I’ve agreed to his plan. I make a mental note to Google ideas of things we could do for fun.

???

Vas and I made plans to stay behind after practice tonight, so we’re hovering by the boards and waiting for the rest of the team to clear out. Coach Mackenzie is gathering stray pucks, skating slowly around the rink and tapping them toward the bench. When he nears, I call out to him.

“Hey, Coach Mackenzie?”

He looks up at me, squinting. “Carter. What can I do for you?”

“You mind if Vas and I stay a little late? Work on some shooting drills?” Beside me, Vas looks nervous. Three years in and he’s still uncomfortable asking the coaches for anything. Luckily, he’s got me to do it for him.

“Of course. Would you like me to stay as well?”

Yes. I bite my tongue, before I can blurt the word out. Coach Mackenzie works hard for this team; he can be tough, but he’s always fair. I like him. And I really like his partner, Tony Lawson. I struggle to remember the NHL schedule—does South Carolina play tonight or would Tony be home? I want Coach Mackenzie to stay, but I don’t want to be a drain on his time; I want him to like me, and not consider me a nuisance.

“Uhm…no, that’s okay. Vas and I will be fine. We can clean up, too. Everything will be perfect when we leave.” Vas nods, smiling in a conciliatory manner.

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