AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Keep it on the down low, but I heard the scouts are coming back next weekend for our away game.” I skillfully lift the puck onto my stick and flick it over to Kal, who smoothly catches it on his stick and sends it back.
“How about the first person who lets it drop first, pays for all the drinks this Saturday night?” I say, passing it back. Kal wears a smile as we continue our back-and-forth with the puck.
I casually ask, “When did Coach let you know about this?” as we continue with our usual passes.
“Just before coming out here. He mentioned that he’s informing you to prevent a repeat of last time.”
“There won’t be.”
“You promise?”
“No.”
“You’re known for your temper, but you’re lucky you didn’t get a match ban for what you had done to Mackey.”
“I know, Cap. You don’t need to keep going on about it.” This causes Kal to fuck up, and he drops the puck.
I lift my helmet, grinning. “Drinks on you, Cap.” I wink.
“You fucker.” He bodychecks me, slamming me into the side of the rink.
I shout, “Touché!” as he flips me off and continues skating toward Cope.
When practice is done, we all head to the showers. Trayton is talking nonstop about a guy he met at the bar and calling out Kal for not taking the girl back to the dorm.
Kal's sulking began after he returned from a trip he had to take with his dad last year and hasn’t stopped since. There was a change and now he hardly pays attention to girls. I’ve asked him time and time again what’s wrong, but he makes up some bullshit. I can tell it’s not true because I know Kal. Kal has always been known as the ‘babe magnet,’ a nickname he dislikes, but stuck after Trayton used it. Kal used to lap up the attention and rarely had an empty bed. He was a man hoe, but a humble one. He may be my best friend, but that doesn’t mean I can’t acknowledge how incredibly attractive he is, both physically and in terms of his personality.
Kal is a fixer, someone who wants to help people that need fixing. It has always been part of his character since we first met. Hence, why we are best friends. Kal, being by my side is something I can’t imagine being without. I furrow my brow in contemplation, observing him as he flips off Trayton when Trayreveals that Kal no longer likes girls and assumes he is now gay. Tray, of course, volunteers that Kal uses him as an experiment. I also noticed a slight increase in his drinking habits, not enough to cause worry, but noticeable nonetheless. Especially when we are at parties. He will keep himself away from girls and only drink. It’s not like him. Trayton noticed and attempted to talk to him, but he dismissed him the same as he did to me. I laugh as I see Tray twirling around a moody Kal, swinging his dick like a helicopter. Being friends with Tray means being OK with seeing his dick more frequently than you see your own. Trayton is as important to me as Kal. Kal is the one who can help me unwind, while Trayton is the one who supports me when I need to release my emotions. Honestly, I’m confident that if I told Tray I needed his help in robbing a bank, he wouldn’t question it and would simply ask about my mask preference. Whenever I need to escape reality, they provide me with balance, and I will forever be grateful to them.
“Anders.” Coach’s deep voice booms in the changing rooms. I hastily put on my top and sweatpants, while the rest of the team watches me. Kal silently nods at me, indicating that this is exactly what we were discussing, before leaning in to whisper into Tray’s ear, no doubt updating him. I put on my baseball cap and twist it backward. Strangely, my baseball cap provides me with a sense of security. I hate not wearing it.
Stepping into the coach’s office, I offer a closed-mouth smile, noticing the overwhelming amount of papers on his desk.
“Coach,” I say, trying my best to sound cheery. The sight of me appears to offend him deeply, as indicated by his pinched eyebrows. I’m standing there, awkwardly rocking on my heels and clapping my hands in front of me.
“Anders, I’ll get straight to the point. The scouts are returning next weekend. I need you to please get your shit together. Advise your brother to stay the fuck away from this game and finda method to release your anger beforehand. Nothing that will get you in trouble, of course.” He points in my direction. “Your attitude is holding you back from reaching your full potential as my star player. Do you understand me?” I nod.
“Yes, Coach. Nothing will mess up next weekend. You have my word.” With a nod, he settles back into his chair, picking up his mug and sipping from it.
“Oh, and one more thing,” he adds, fiddling with papers on his desk. “The dean and I have had a conversation, and your grades are declining noticeably.” He stares directly at me, raising one eyebrow. “To help, you need to take an extra class.” Before I can speak, he raises his hand. “It doesn’t matter which class, but you must obtain extra credit. You have the freedom to choose, as long as it doesn’t affect our practice schedule. I don’t care what it is.”
I bow my head and nod to show my understanding. Right now, I don’t need an additional class, and this news has caught me off guard. I knew my grades were slipping slightly and being on a scholarship, I know I need to be careful. But I thought I could pull it back, not have to take an extra class.
Leaving the coach’s office, I trudge back to the boys. While most have left, Kal and Tray are still here, sitting and waiting for me.
“Gonna head to the gym,” I grumble, trying not to sulk, but it’s a bit hard right now. Kal’s brows knit together as he gets up and comes over to me, Tray trailing not too far behind.
“Was it not about the scouts?” Kal says.
I nod. “It was, but also about my grades slipping. The coach and the dean have decided that I should enroll in an extra class to raise my grades.”
Tray drawls out the word, “Dayyyymnn,” in a way that resembles Ice Cube and Chris Tucker’s delivery in the Fridaymovies. Usually this brings a smile to my face, but currently I don’t feel like smiling at all.
“Damn is correct.” I sigh.
“What are you going to pick?” Tray asks
“No idea,” I say as I snatch my bag and leave the changing rooms, heading straight for the door. Behind me, Kal starts listing additional classes I can enroll in. I take a quick glance behind me and spot him on his phone, most likely browsing the college’s website. I don’t find any of them appealing.
