Page 23 of Untouchable Player

“Yeah, Harrison said.”

“Harry said he’s probably not going to make the NHL, so god knows what he’s going to do with his life. It’s sad, he’s a nice boy.”

I forget sometimes how much mom makes it her business to get to know everyone on Harrison’s team.

“How do you know he’s nice?” I ask, trying not to sound too interested.

Mom shrugs. The paper straw of her juice cup is getting soggy and she makes a face when she tries to suck some green stuff up and nothing comes out.

“He’s polite, when I first met him he called me ma’am.” She laughs and I feel myself smiling. “But he drinks too much.”

“I know, we saw him chugging beers at that party the other night.”

Mom shakes her head. “It’s a shame. I think he came to hockey late, or his parents couldn’t take him to all the junior games at first. And then he had that horrible injury last year. You know his father works in construction?”

She says it like it’s a familiar profession to us because dad owns a construction company.

“They’re from Philly,” I say, to change the subject,

“Yeah! Don’t you just love his accent?”

I open the fridge to hide my face so she can’t see me blush. “I didn’t even notice he had one.”

“A little, it’s not too obvious, but it’s cute.” She sighs. “He’s not handsome, but that chipped tooth is adorable on him.”

The fridge has cooled my face down enough for me to close it and chastise my mother for talking about college boys the way she is.

She giggles. “What? He’s twenty-one, I only noticed.”

I think she’s going to ask me if I agree and I turn my back and change the subject. She’s tried that whole ‘discussing hot men with her gay son’ thing and I never engage.

She tucks a strand of hair behind my ear and I wait for the doe-eyed lecture about how handsome I am and why don’t I have a boyfriend yet? Just once, I’d like to give her chapter and verse about how hard dating is when you’re my age and gay. Trying to get college-aged boys to have a relationship when there are so many hook-up apps out there is like trying to catch fish with your hands. But I’m glad she doesn’t say anything. I don’t feel like lecturing her right now.

I go to my room and try to study, but my mind is elsewhere.

I open the app and swipe through a few pictures of college students and hot bartenders in the area, but it only makes me depressed.

When Katie asks if I want a cookie dough and movie night, I jump on the chance to distract myself.

Mom lets me borrow her car to drive to Katie’s place. For all their money, they can be stingy with things like that. They only bought Harrison a car when he turned twenty-one and they said they’ll do the same for me. Harrison, ever resourceful, took summer jobs and bought himself a cheap and highly unreliable car when he turned seventeen, but I’m always too busy studying to take summer jobs, or volunteering my senioryear like everyone else to get some extra curricular activities on my college resumé. So I’m stuck driving mom’s car for now.

It's a nice car, but a little ridiculous. Way too big for a woman who drives to brunch and Pilates by herself, or occasionally with one of her tiny friends.

There’s a designer air freshener dangling from the rear-view mirror and the glove compartment is full of candy. The whole car smells like her perfume collection and there’s a pair of Chanel ballet flats stuffed under the driver’s seat. I’m grateful at least it isn’t one of those pink VW bugs with eyelashes on the headlights.

Katie’s apartment block has a parking lot and I park mom’s SUV without having to worry about it getting stolen. There’s a grocery store on the ground floor of the concrete building and a coffee shop next door. The building is five minutes from the furthest campus and there are always students hanging around outside, smoking and talking.

Katie is waiting for me at her door with her shoes on.

“I just need to grab the snacks,” she says.

I think she’s going to go into the grocery store downstairs, but she leads me away, telling me cookie dough is a dollar cheaper at the grocery store up the street. When I ask her if she wants me to drive there, she gives me that look she hasn’t given me in a while that tells me I’m rich and out of touch and I need to do better.

I don’t want to be that person. I like to think I’ve learnt a lot since starting college.

Katie links her arm through mine as we walk and we fall into a natural step together.

As we head into the grocery store, we catch Jesse and his linemate Justin Clarke coming out with bags full of food and a six pack of beers. Of course.

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