Page 33 of Unlovable Player

“It’s Wednesday night.”

“Live a little, we don’t have a game until Saturday.”

I hesitate.

“If you say no I’m lighting a cigarette.”

I laugh. “Fuck you.”

“I’m kidding, you don’t have to have one if you don’t want.”

“Throw me one.”

He opens a bottle and passes it to me, his fingertips brushing mine.

I take a sip as he sinks into the couch and turns the PS5 on.

“What’s that?Farming Simulator?”

“Fuck you, it relaxes me.” He picks up the controller and changes the game.

I’d laugh, but it’s kind of sad, imagining him in here by himself, playingFarming Simulatorwhile we all hang out.

“I’m guessing you want to be your draft team.”

“Actually, I’m usually the Devils, but don’t tell anyone.”

He smirks. “My lips are sealed, you know my secret, I’m sure I can keep yours.”

That video comes to mind. How I’ve tried not to imagine what’s on it. How did someone film them? Where were they? In public? What were they doing exactly? I can’t ask him, obviously, and maybe not knowing is better. Stops the imagination working overtime.

“I’m Rangers, of course.”

“Of course.” I clear my throat, sure my face is red.

Sebastian kicks my ass. I didn’t play many video games as a kid. I was too busy playing actual hockey. We finish a game just as the pizza shows up, then we stuff our faces in silence while the pause screen plays NHL music in the background.

“Will you get me tickets when you’re playing in the NHL?” Sebastian asks after he wipes the back of his mouth with his arm.

“I thought rich people had table manners?”

“Huh?”

I gesture to the tomato stain smeared across his pale forearm and he laughs.

When he gets up to grab a cloth, I catch a sliver of skin between his sweatpants and the t-shirt he must have bought recently at the college store with our hockey logo across the front.

Something fizzles in the bottom of my stomach and I look away.

“Why did you change the subject?” he asks as he sits back down.

“What?”

“That speech you gave in the locker room - very rousing by the way - you said you didn’t know if you were getting signed, why wouldn’t you get signed? You’re the best player in the league, captaining the best team.”

“So what?” I wipe my mouth with the cloth he hands me. “There’s a million good players out there, not just high-school kids either, there’s a ton of great players in the AHL, the ECHL-”

“But they’re not you.”

---