Page 13 of Puck Shots
“Like you can ever.” Luka laughs, and Cosmo shakes his head.
“We’ve all got our thing. Micky’s slapshot was straight up sniper level. I’m surprised that thing didn’t bust through the cage,” Cosmo says, grabbing his drink and passing me my OJ.
Chang grabs the jug of water and starts filling glasses, passing them round.
“You guys circled the puck like it was on a string, the other team couldn’t touch it. Reddy, dude, you were dialed, stood on your head for three straight.”
“Thanks, man,” Reddy grins wide at what I presume is a compliment. What I can tell right away is that Chang is a good hype man in his team. Every word out of his mouth so far is either celebrating or pumping up the guys. It must be nice to be around someone like that. Someone who only points out the positives. In science, it’s usually people trying to pull apart your research, find holes or gaps.
“What do you think, pledge? You think we’ll dominate this year?” Pete asks, and I freeze.
“Ummm, I don’t know. I don’t really… I mean…” My mind is trying to grasp the lingo they used to make myself sound even half like I know what the hell I am talking about but I’m me, so what comes out is, “Cosmo has you all beat on acceleration anddeceleration, a perfect example of Newton’s laws in motion, but Micky’s demonstration of kinetic energy transfer was amazing to watch. The force transferred from the stick to the puck to send it hurtling at super speed down the ice was amazing. If I blinked, I would have missed it. It was like watching physics in real time.” They’re all staring at me, Cosmo wearing a big smile but the others not so much.
“I mean, but with cooler collisions,” I add, and Chang laughs first, starting a chain reaction with the rest of them.
“Yeah, I've taken my share of solid hits along the boards, but I just eat it. Gotta keep moving when those fuckers are on the ice, or you’ll get caught flat-footed,” Chang says with that same happy smile.
Cosmo leans in close enough that I can smell the sweet woody scent of his cologne mixed with a touch of coffee and something else, maybe. My head spins.
“He means he got hit hard against the wall but just took it and kept going, cause when he’s against those kinds of players, if they catch you standing still, they’ll crush you.”
“I think I actually got half of that myself,” I whisper back, and I can feel the smile tease at the corners of my mouth.
“You’re doing great.”
“Thanks, but I still have no idea about half of what anyone is saying.”
Cosmo snorts, and it’s more adorable than it should be.
“You really are lost in all this, aren’t you?”
“I know how to speak three languages; dude bro just isn’t one of them.”
Cosmo slings his arm over the back of my chair, the heat from him instantly flowing through my thin shirt even without him actually touching me. It’s like it’s being drawn in by some invisible force. I’m a science major, so I know it isn’t an invisible force, but the way he leans in even closer to whisper in my earnow has me unable to think of the reason why it feels this way. All I can focus on is separating the elements of his scent so that I might recreate it later. Vanilla, coffee, wood, not pine, but ash maybe, and I think there is a touch of mint there, too.
Later, after the guys have told me all about the different things they want to improve, and I’ve heard the most important rules of the sport explained three separate ways. The conversation shifts to me.
“So you’re really smart then?” Hewie asks, his tone leaning more curious than anything else.
I shrug. “I guess.”
“That’s cool,” Cosmo replies in a way that doesn’t make me feel like he’s trying to let me know that it’s okay, more like he really thinks it is cool. But that can’t be right. He’s a super-hot hockey jock. Why the hell would he think anything about me is cool?
“And you play hockey at school for most of the year and then play more hockey through summer?” I ask, trying to shift the attention back to them. They all pretty much nod and agree.
“Is it the same for you with the booky science stuff?” Pete asks.
Well that didn’t work.
“I guess, sort of. I don’t go to a camp or anything, but I interned at my mom’s work over the summer. That was interesting.”
“What does she do?” Luka asks, and now I’m really wishing I didn’t open my big mouth because how do you explain that your mom spends her time sifting through crime scene evidence and analyzing blood and DNA while you’re just here trying to get through dinner without coming off as a total freak.
“Umm, she works for the police,” I say, and rather than having the desired effect of ending this conversation thread, they all seem really fucking interested now, Pete and Chang leaning forward on their elbows in anticipation of more information.
“Is she a cop?” Luka asks, and Cosmo laughs. “He said she works with the police, not that she is one, keep up.”
“Oh, right, so not a cop, is she like one of those psychics they hire to find missing people and bodies and stuff?” he asks next, and I can’t help but laugh.
