Page 23 of Unrecognizable Player

I can hear him trying to be quiet while I lie in bed. But every move he makes is like a fucking earthquake. How can someone so small make so much noise? His footsteps on the carpet. The shuffle of a cardboard box. The rustle of a plastic bag. The opening of the bathroom door and the sound of him pissing in the toilet.Nope.

I turn over and squash the pillow to my head until my ears hurt. When I finally pull the pillow off, it sounds like he’s finished in the bathroom, and – hopefully – gone to bed.

I leftthe apartment before the sun even came up this morning to avoid my new roommate. I know it’s a coward’s move, but I’ve got so much on my mind right now, if I can just avoid one of those things, I will.

We play Quinnipiac at home on Friday, then at their arena on Saturday. They’re currently in front in the ECAC standings and that confidence it gonna make them hard to beat.

It’s a long, hard road to the Frozen Four play-off’s, but I have Coach’s and the team’s voices in my head as we go out there on the ice, reminding me that we can do it.

This is my last chance to lift that trophy. My only chance to go out with a bang. And whatever I have to do to get it, I’ll do it.

At the startof the week, that’s when we go hard with conditioning, endurance drills and intense scrimmages.

Coach’s whistle barely leaves his mouth. He gets right in there with you, getting right up in your face, goading you withhis stick, forcing you to work harder, to push yourself to the potential he knows you’ve got.

By the time he calls time on practice, we’re all sweating and trying to catch our breath, leaning on the boards while we drink water. One of the freshmen is puking in the corner. When Brown makes fun of him, I call him out, reminding him that we’ve all been there, and he apologizes.

The team mantra stands at the entrance to the locker room, reminding us to be a positive influence in our community. Reminding us that we’re more than hockey players. I try to take that in every time I pass it. Wish someone could tell my dad that.

Pawlowski’s cubby’s next to mine and I can feel his eyes on me while we get changed.

“Dude, either take me out to dinner or stop checking me out.”

“Sorry man.” He laughs. “I uh… just wanted to ask you something.”

“Spit it out.”

“You know your roommate?”

I pull my jersey off so he can’t see my face getting hot.

“Well uh, he’s friends with this girl in the band. You know the marching band or whatever, they play at our games sometimes, the home ones.”

“Alice?”

When I look at him, his face is red enough for the two of us. “Yeah, her name’s Alice Kym.”

“So what? You wanna ask her out?”

“Is she single?”

“I don’t know.”

“Can you find out?”

That would involve me talking to my roommate and I don’t really wanna do that.

“Why don’t you ask her?”

“I uh…” he rubs the back of his neck. “I’d rather at least know if she has a boyfriend before I make a dick of myself.”

I’ve never seen him this shy over a girl before. And he’s my teammate. We’re supposed to be ride or die for each other, (unless he does something shitty, then I’m supposed to call him out for it). Asking your roommate a simple question isn’t exactly ride or die. Surely I can do that for him?

I sigh. “Sure, I’ll ask him.”

“Thanks man I owe you one.”

Coach comes in to remind us to put forward our suggestions for volunteer activities and warn us not to go out getting drunk and eating pizza before the big game on Friday.

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