Page 62 of Untouchable Player

“Oh.”

“I told them we were studying.”

I follow Nate downstairs and his mom comes out of the living room where it looks like she’s making Nate’s dad watchThe Real Housewives of Beverly Hills –the best one by the way.

She looks happy, but then, maybe I’m shit at noticing these things.

“You were great tonight,” she says.

“What?”

“In the game?”

“Oh, yeah, thanks, thank you Mrs Jones.”

She laughs and slaps my arm, “how many times do I have to tell you? Call me Anna.”

“Anna, thanks.”

“Yeah, you really beat the shit out of that Denver goon,” Nate’s dad shouts from the living room.

I mumble a thanks and say goodbye to Nate’s mom. I wish I could kiss Nate goodbye at least, but we just linger awkwardly inthe doorway for a minute before he says goodbye and closes the door.

Nate

Straight after my morning lecture, I head over to the library and set myself up at a desk. I have a calculus class in a couple of hours, so I might as well spend this time getting a head start on everything. I set an alarm on my phone so I don’t lose track of time and miss my class, and when it goes off, I can’t believe I’ve been here that long.

My stomach rumbles as I leave the library, but I only have time to grab a granola bar and eat it on the way.

I’m a little headachy in class, but I force myself to focus. The numbers on the board start to meld into one and when my professor asks me I question, I choke and she moves on to someone else.

I spend the rest of the lesson thinking of ways to redeem myself, but the opportunity never arises.

When Professor Russell calls time on the class, I gather my books together with my head down, trying not to catch anyone’s eye, but Professor calls me name and my face flushes as people turn to look at me.

If I’ve been asked to stay behind after a class in the past, it was to praise me, but surely that’s not what Professor Russell wants to do. She leans against her desk as the other students file out, saying goodbye, and when the last one is gone and has closed the door behind them, she cocks her head at me and says, “Nate, you seem tired today.”

My face burns, but I force myself to maintain eye contact.

“I am a little, I guess.”

“Have you been sleeping okay?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Do you live in student accommodation?”

“No, I live with my parents, just off-campus.”

Her eyebrows come up, “that’s handy.”

“We’ve always lived in New York, but my mom moved us here when my brother and I got into the same college.”

“Your brother goes to this college?”

“Harrison Jones, he’s the captain of the ice hockey team.”

“Really?”

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