Page 110 of Wrong Pucking Jersey

“S-Seriously?” I gasp.

“Mhmm. Two chicks, but they seemed rather young and inexperienced. Doubt it was the girl who set up James but didn’t want to risk it. When I shooed them away and moved down the hall, I saw you and Ace.”

“Dimitri. You saved my ass.” I’ll buy lunch for this man for the rest of our internship for saving us the dramatics at the beginning of the season.

“No big deal.” He shrugs. “I know we barely know each other, but you seemed nice from the get-go. I get why all the guys from both teams respect you a lot and are crushing on you.”

“Respect and are crushing on me?” I give him a look of horror. “That’s not true.”

“You don’t really acknowledge the way the guys look at you, now do you?” He’s staring at me like I’m feigning blindsight.

“No? I mean, if they’re staring at me, it’s just out of intrigue or trying to see if I got tattoos or something.”

“They stare at you like they’re undressing you,” Dimitri mutters, which once again, has me spluttering milk through my nose. “Hmm. I really suck at the timing here.”

“No shit,” I complain mid-cough. “Ew. Milk out of your nose is weird as puck.”

“Puck,” he repeats as he gathers some napkins to clean my nose and the mess he contributed to. “You even get them to say ‘puck’ instead of fuck.”

“That’s my dad,” I press, but Dimitri shakes his head.

“They’re not obligated to follow what your dad says. Besides, last time I checked, your dad is coaching Pincers, not Vipers. They don’t need to keep saying puck or pucking in public, but they do to please a certain woman they stare at like she’s a snack ready to devour.”

“Oh, no! They don’t stare at me like that. You have no proof.”

“I’ll warn you that you’ll probably lose this bet if you really want me to show you all the ways they stare at you.”

“How so?” I’m intrigued.

“I can just hack into the security system and get footage.”

“Holy shit, you can do that?” I gawk at him before leaning in to whisper, “Isn’t that illegal?”

“Sort of,” he admits. “However, I’m assigned to the tech security team at the stadium,” he reveals.

“Damn. Really?” I’m honestly impressed. “How did you snag a position like that?”

“You see how James dealt with that incident with everyone calling him gay? I was the one who assisted with retrieving the surveillance footage,” he admits.

“Holy shit, that’s amazing! But why exactly do you call him James if he’s your dad? Like I don’t call my dad Coach Johnson unless there’s a specific context or I’m in a professional situation where I have to acknowledge his title just like he would mine.”

“It’s because I’m adopted.”

He’s mentioned he was adopted, but I wasn’t figuring out why that would mean he has to call Mr. Champion by his name versus calling him Dad, Father, or Papa. My face must show my confusion because he elaborates.

“I was adopted recently. Like almost two years ago? I know that sounds weird because I’m obviously older than eighteen and out of foster care since I’m useless to the government now, but I was basically dumped by my real family because they were as strict in regard to religion as James’ church community. Our background is Italian and they’re very strict. The moment I realized I wasn’t necessarily attracted to women and admitted it, they kicked my things out,” he reveals and has my full attention.

He leans back In his chair and runs his hand through his hair, which is growing longer and longer each week. The dye is also fading, which makes me wonder if he’ll change the color to something else.

“I floated in foster care for two years, then was left homeless. No one really helps you except for the occasional change for meals and stuff, so I did what I could to save as much change as I could. I saved enough in a year to get a refurbished iPhone, and I got back into the hobby of watching various hacking videos. It’s what I did to waste time in foster care since they had computers and tablets we could use. I wasn’t learning because I wanted to hack a bank or something stupid. I wanted to be like those people who are on crime shows who help track down the bad guys. It was odd, but satisfied me until I realized I’d either die on the streets or get pulled into drugs.”

I don’t know what to say as I stare back at him in disbelief. When you looked at Dimitri, you’d think he’s just some punk kid who’s in his gothic era.

I never once thought he dealt with homelessness.

“Before the whole fabricated gay issue, James had seen me in front of a gas station during a brutal winter storm. I think it was one of the coldest days we ever experienced. Honestly, I don’t remember much of it because I kind of passed out. It was just so cold and despite the layers of blankets around me, nothing was helping me stay warm. When I woke up, I was in a cozy bed, all washed up, and had to be treated for hypothermia. James had taken me in,” he explained. “Since that point on, he always checked on me. He gave me a new phone and encouraged me to go to the library and study the basics to get my high school diploma by taking the GED exam. When I passed that, he said I had potential and should start thinking about what I wanted to do. I didn’t have hopes of being a doctor or anything. I also wasn’t really athletic.”

“Why didn’t you go into computer science or something?” I ask.

---