Page 11 of Puck Shots
“Broke the rules, so they’re paying a very public price for it,” I reply with a wink Eli’s way.
“So what should your punishment be for stealing Pres’s stick?” Colton asks, and only then do I notice Reddy is crocheting something red and white beside him.
“I didn’t steal anything. There were a bunch of butterflies out back, maybe one of the brothers wanted to try and catch them.”
Reddy chuckles, his fingers moving the crochet needles at a steady pace without him even watching. He’s actually really good at it. Created a bunch of animals and things for the guys. Mine was a turtle that sits on my bookshelves in my room.
“What are you making there?” I ask him.
“A Pokémon Ball for West.”
“He’ll love that,” I say, thinking about the numerous times he’s bailed on hanging out on the weekends to attend some trade show thing to try to complete his sets of cards. He’s also got a calf tattoo of Umbreon on his right leg. I think that’s what it’s called.It’s full color and looks pretty awesome. I want a tattoo, but I can’t decide what to get. I thought I would be able to convince my brother Brent to tattoo us all when he visited a few months back, but it’s even harder to pick a tattoo when four people have to agree on what it is.
Luka nudges my arm.
“I’m sure if Sam finds out it was you; he’ll have you doing more than crawling around the house on all fours.”
“The net’s back on the mantle. Can’t prove it was ever not there.”
“Eli here could tell him where he found it.”
“I wouldn’t,” Eli replies, the blush back to his cheeks.
“Because there’s nothing to tell, right?” I say.
“Right,” he replies with that adorable lop-sided grin of his.
The guys leave us to grab drinks, and I lean against the wall beside Eli, watching the room.
“So I was thinking about your…reward,” I say, and Eli turns toward me, but I keep my gaze on the guys in the room, talking and laughing and every few minutes pointing at Toby and what’s his name, still on their hands and knees. “Me and some of the guys are going to the hockey rink later, you should come.”
“I don’t play hockey.”
“I know, but we’re just going for an hour or so to do some speed drills, and we usually hang out at The Rook, this small pub beside it afterwards. They’ve got a band that usually plays, and we rarely get carded.”
“I…guess.”
“It could be a good way for you to get to know some of the guys, you know, make it easier on you through rush.”
“Yeah. Umm, that would be good. Okay, sure.”
I try to dismiss the way my stomach stirs when he says he’ll come. Calvin asked me to look out for him. That’s what I’m doing. Aren’t I?
4
Eli
Icontemplate forgetting about the invite from Cosmo and just staying at the frat house with the other pledges. But then Toby and Rick, the other neanderthal from the woods, started huddling and whispering in the corner of the common room and I thought it was safer to get out.
I used the maps, following the little blue dot as I walked through the college, off campus and down a few blocks to the ice rink. I’m early, and Cosmo isn’t finished training or whatever it is they’re doing in there, so I try to sneak in quietly.
The cool air fills my lungs and brings calm to my racing heart. I can already hear them calling out to each other, their skates make scraping noises as they race across the ice. I sit up in the stands in the corner near the rail, hoping they don’t notice me, and watch. There’s about fifteen of them on the ice, and despite their chunky gear, I spot Cosmo right away. He’s zooming up the ice, his red hockey stick in one hand, controlling the puck in taps back and forth so fast I can barely keep up. The othershave pucks, too, but they are way behind him, he glances over his shoulder maintaining his speed, but he’s getting closer and closer to the wall. Fuck, he should slow down, look, something. I’m about to call out when he changes direction almost on a dime and skates around the edge before making his way back up past the others.
“Fuck, Flash, did you get faster?” one of the guys shouts, and Cosmo spins and starts skating backwards, letting the puck he was controlling slide off to the side.
“You just got slower, Rover,” he replies, spinning to skate backwards for a few strides and then turning again in a seamless move that looks entirely impressive.
“I’m three seconds faster than last season, thank you very much. I swear, no one will catch you this year. The scouts will be drawing up your NHL contract before the end of game one, you just watch,” Luka says. I recognize his Irish accent right away. He looks like he’s having more fun on the ice than the rest of them, weaving between them, and getting in their way as they try to race each other up and down, laughing. Cosmo waits at the far end for the rest of them to get back, and then when they all turn, he takes off, too, dashing ahead. The way he moves is so different from the others. I start to pick apart his movements, the key differences, that seem to give him so much more speed.
