Breakaway (Beyond the Play, #2)(35)

I tried sexting, in the beginning, but it doesn’t seem to be her style; if she’s in the mood and wants to meet up, she just sends me an interrobang. It’s gotten to the point where when I see that little ?!, or send it myself, my heart quickens. That was what led to me coming over last night, and as soon as I shut the door to her room, she was on me, murmuring, “Wanna wear your hand like a necklace.” I let her set the pace, but by the end, she was begging me to fuck her face, pressing down on her throat with enough pressure that tears pricked in her eyes.

The rough-and-tumble stress relief has been helping. I’ve been sharp during practice, and at one of last weekend’s away games, we won in overtime. In a twist that should have felt horribly awkward but has left me decidedly unrepentant, Coach told me yesterday that he’s been noticing my improvements and restraint on the ice.

If only he knew where my newfound focus was coming from.

I hand in my essay, then head out of the building, pulling my phone from my pocket. There’s a text waiting from Pen, and before I even open it, I’m smiling. Tomorrow, I’ll see her for the skating class, and I’ve already invited her back to my place. Pizza, some studying, abandoning our books for my bed… it sounds like a good fucking evening.

Red Penny



I pet a cat on a leash!!!





Pics or it didn’t happen





To my slight surprise, she immediately sends back a picture of herself crouching on the sidewalk, petting a cat wearing a harness. The cat is cute, black with big yellow eyes, but I barely glance at it before focusing on Penny. Her hair is in a thick braid, and she has a knit cap on her head. Underneath her coat, I can see she’s wearing a fuzzy black turtleneck. She looks so good in a New York autumn, it’s hard to imagine her as an Arizona native, but when we chatted on the phone a couple of days ago, she had me in tears laughing about the time a lizard snuck into her skate and hitched a ride from Tempe to Salt Lake for a figure skating competition.

I underestimated you, Red





I don’t mess around where cute animals are involved





Speaking of pussy… ?!





You’re incorrigible





I did terribly on my chemistry test. Take my mind off it?





Wish I could, but your dad is making us show up for an extra practice





Boo





Tell him hi





Jk jk





As previously stated: Incorrigible





Even though I could use some time to catch up on my readings for my Milton seminar, I head to the rink. We usually don’t practice on Tuesdays, but Coach Ryder and his staff have put together some new formations, and we have another away game, this time all the way up in New Hampshire, to prepare for. I’m a little early, so I change into athletic shorts and a throwaway t-shirt and hit the treadmill for a run.

After a couple minutes, Brandon steps onto the treadmill next to me. I give him a nod, but he just responds with a stony look before getting started on his warmup. We spend a long time in silence, running side by side. If Evan was with me, this would be a fun competition as we sang along to Foo Fighters. If it was Jean, it would be companionable silence while we listened to Led Zeppelin. This is torture, with no music to save me.

Although I’ve done nothing but try to be a good teammate and leader, Brandon seems determined to hate my guts. Before this, we weren’t close friends or anything, but we’d chat during team parties, play some beer pong together, that sort of thing. Last New Year’s Eve, I spent the weekend at his parents’ lake house in Michigan, and I even hooked up with his older cousin, this hot chick named Amanda who wanted a memorable experience before a stint with Doctors Without Borders. We don’t have to be best buddies, but getting the cold shoulder is exhausting.

“Look,” I say eventually, because we’re about to be on the ice anyway, and there won’t be much opportunity for chatting then, “just tell me what I can do to get you to cut the shit.”

He wipes a towel across his forehead. “You know what.”

I do know what, but it’s surprising to hear him be so bold. “Besides that.”

He shrugs. “Then I don’t owe you anything off the ice. You want friends, stick with your crew and I’ll stick with mine.”

“I’m not going to tell Coach not to make me captain so I don’t hurt your fragile fucking feelings.”

He stops the treadmill suddenly, his chest heaving. He’s flushed, a bead of sweat running from the sweaty blond hair plastered to his temple to his cheek. “You have another year. You’re only a junior, Callahan. And you’ll have a chance in the league for all the validation you’re seeking from your daddy.”

I just stare back; I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he hit me somewhere real. “So?”

“This is my last season playing hockey. It’s been my life for as long as I can remember, and this time next year, where am I going to be?” He laughs shortly, wrapping the towel over his shoulders. “I’ll be stuck in a fucking office, managing stocks.”

“You could have entered the draft. Or you could try to get in somewhere after graduation. The AHL, or somewhere in Europe.”