Page 51 of Untouchable Player

“Okay Dad.”

“And eat plenty of protein.”

“Okay, gotta go Dad, here’s my bus.”

I hang up and sink into the bus stop. The bus still isn’t here, but I couldn’t take another second of that conversation.

An athlete needs rest.He talks like I’m playing in the NHL. I’ll never play in the NHL. I’m not delusional about that. He’s the only one who is. I’m a college athlete. This is the highlight of my life. The thing I’ll brag about to my kids when I’m older. But it won’t be the thing I’m bitter about. I’m not going to try and repeat it vicariously through them when my time’s done and I’m working a 9-5 or construction like my dad. No sir. When this is over, I’ll bow out gracefully and not spend the rest of my life looking back.

I get a message from Nate after I get on the bus, asking what I’m up to.

‘Going to the library. Yeah really.’

‘Want some company?’

My heart does an annoying little flutter.Fuck.

‘Yeah sure.’

I sit out in the main part with the floating shelves because the reading room is way too intimidating, and I feel like everyone looks at me like I’m being too loud the second I walk in.

I’ve still got my gear with me because I knew if I went home I wouldn’t want to come back out again. I’d take a nap and get roped into playing on the PS5and waste the day away.

Jones can do that because he doesn’t need a back-up job, but I can’t.

When Nate walks in looking clean and fresh and like he smells good, I want to kick my bag with my sweaty jock shorts and socks to the other side of the library. The shorts are supposedto have anti-odour technology, but I don’t think they’ve tested them against Coach’s bag skates.

Nate gives me a shy smile when he spots me and walks over.

“Hey, we can go in the other room if you want?”

“Here’s fine,” he says.

He takes a seat next to me at the table.

“I came straight from practise, so, I have all my stuff with me,” I gesture to the bag beside my chair, “sorry if it’s all gross and stuff.”

Nate glances at the bag and I think he’s wondering where all the rest of it is.

“We keep the skates and sticks at the rink.”

He laughs, “I know, my brother’s a hockey player remember?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Imagine if they made you cart all that stuff around.”

“I did, when I was a kid. In the back of my dad’s car when I played in juniors. And then before that, when my dad was trying to get me onto a team.”

“You must have been really dedicated.”

I snort, “yeahhewas. We were one step away from moving to Toronto.”

“Why Toronto?”

I give him a look, “I thought you knew hockey?”

He laughs, dropping his eyes with those thick eyelashes. Fuck.

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