Page 18 of Between the Blue
Well, usually.
The two of us have been doing this for years. It’s helpful to watch yourself with a second set of eyes.
Especially when Sutty and I are such different types of players.
We’re easily the two best in town, honestly two of the absolute best in the entire surrounding Toronto area. But our styles are completely different.
I’m a quiet player. Always have been. I sneak up on you. I make the messy shots. Pick up the slack. Always there when you least expect me.
Silent but deadly, I’ve been called. Can’t say it’s my favorite nickname. But I also can’t say it isn’t true.
I’m in and out. I don’t fight. Don’t have time for it. I’ll have scored before you even realize I’m there. And you’ll never see a huge celebration out of me. It’s just not who I am. I’m focused, I’m there for my teammates, and I get the job done.
Sutty on the other hand…
He couldn’t be louder.
He’s explosive. In your face. Always tearing up the ice and jumping through any hoop necessary to score. He does things that don’t look real. And he does them with a massive grin on his face. And not a curl out of place. He’s broken every local record in the book and twice as many ladies’ hearts.
He’s probably better than me if I’m being honest.
Would never admit that to him though.
But he’s just too out of control. Never knows when to rein it in.
And if there’s anything I have, it’s control.
I pride myself on it.
Nothing’s ever been able to throw me off kilter.
But something tells me she could.
“Sorry, man,” I say. Shake my head.
“Are you out of it tonight or what?” Rhett asks.
“Yeah, I think. Just got some stuff on my mind.”
“Stuff, right.”
He scoffs.
“Is that what Julia Gold’s going by these days?”
I pause, my beer bottle an inch from my lips. Glance over at him.
A huge grin spreads across his face. “C’mon, Jamesy. I saw you talking to her on my back porch last weekend.”
“Yeah, so?”
“So, I’ve never seen you looking like that.”
“Like what?”
“A deer in headlights. You practically had hearts in your eyes. I think I even saw a little color in your cheeks.” He reaches up, pinching my face.
“Fuck off,” I mutter. Push his hand away. Then take a sip of my beer.
