Page 70 of Puck Shots
“I’m passionate about a few other things, too,” I say, and he smirks up at me.
“Really, do tell.”
“I think I’d rather show you,” I say, and then I kiss him again.
***
I wake up, neck sore, Eli cuddled in at my side on the couch. I have no idea when we fell asleep, but waking up next to him is nice. His breathing mirrors mine, slow, and steady and he’s got one hand up the front of my shirt, resting on my stomach.
Lying here, it suddenly hits me. My life doesn’t start when I get drafted. This is my life, it’s already happening all around me, and it’s fucking awesome.
The weeks fly by in the best possible way, practice, games, meeting with potential teams, and spending time with Eli. Scouts are at every game, and we’re playing the best season. Given midterms are coming up fast, Eli worked out a schedule so he can study without me distracting him. I’m not offended, the coach basically asked us to do the same thing, except he suggested a total separation until the season was over. He didn’t want his players’ minds on anything but hockey. Trouble is, if you take something away, it’s the only thing anyone will be thinking about.
I’ve never been so hooked on a guy the way I am with Eli. No one ever really held my attention longer than a hook up. I’d get what I wanted from them and then move on. All I can put it down to was, I got what I wanted, but not what I needed. Eli gives me both.
“You know people pay to go to college to learn, Mr. Parks,” Professor Grimes says, handing over my practice exam paper, a big red D circled on the top. Fuck. If the real thing goes the same way, I’ll have more to worry about than getting drafted. I can’t exactly show the NHL teams I’m the player they want to sign if I fail out of school and aren’t on the ice at all.
“This is why we did the test, people,” Professor Grimes says louder as he returns to the front of the class. “Now you know where your gaps are. Use the next few weeks wisely and fill those gaps before your mid-terms.”
I shouldn’t be surprised. I haven’t actually been studying all that hard. It’s not that I don’t think I need to. This test proves I do, but every time I try to focus on anything other than hockey and Eli, my brain finds a way to make it about hockey or Eli.
I pull out my phone and text Eli.
ME:
Know any good tutors?
ELI:
In what subject?
ME:
Probably all of them if this practice test is anything to go off.
ELI:
I know one super smart, really kind, generous guy who’d probably love to help you out.
His rates are really affordable, too.
In fact, I’m pretty sure he operates on a trade system.
ME:
Do you mean Reddy?
ELI:
Mean.
ME:
You’ve already helped me way too much.
Besides, what would I even have to trade you for?
You’re already in the frat.
