8
The next day, we meet as usual at the library. Emily is already sitting at the table when I arrive and seems absorbed in something. When she sees me, she smiles warmly and waves. I sit down opposite her, keeping a certain distance between us. I can”t trust myself in her presence.
While we”re studying together, I get a bit distracted because I”m constantly careful not to touch her.
Emily also seems reserved.
It”s probably the best way to go. The memories of our ‘moment’ are still fresh. With time, we”ll certainly find a good balance, even if it seems complicated at the moment.
It”s anything but easy! As soon as I”m near her, I get ideas. I banish them to the far corner of my brain and try to concentrate on the essentials, which proves rather difficult.
After our study session, we separate and return to our daily lives.
The next few days unfold in a similar way. We don”t talk about the famous torrid evening, or anything personal. It”s all about learning and supporting each other.
On the one hand, it”s exactly what we both wanted, but on the other, I”d love nothing more than to hold her close to me again.
When I enter the lecture hall after our library session, everyone is talking about the new issue of the campus newspaper. I ask my seatmate if I can have a look. He hands me his copy, wide-eyed, and I find it hard to understand his attitude. Then I notice that on the front page, a photo of me takes up most of the space.
It”s coming back to me. Emily had taken some photos last week. And when I winked at her, she captured the moment perfectly. I turn the pages to get to her article and am once again impressed by her talent as a journalist. Her choice of words and the emotions she generates are truly unique.
I return the newspaper to the guy I borrowed it from, and look down, trying to ignore the female students devouring me with their eyes.
The photo doesn”t seem to please just me.
Shaking my head, I pull out my cell phone and text Emily before class starts.
* Hi Em, great portrait, and fantastic article!
I”ve attached three ‘thumbs up’ emojis that should be enough to express my enthusiasm.
At noon on the dot, I”m back at the library.
If I”ve learned anything from Emily, it”s punctuality. As we enter the building, we almost collide and smile at each other. I wave her over and as she makes her way to our table, I can”t help but admire her ass. So perfect and round.
Memories of the evening we spent together overwhelm me and warm me up a little too much.
Dude, calm down or you”ll get an erection!
Breathing deeply, I try to sink back down before sitting down next to her.
“Shall we begin?” she asks, opening a book.
I stroke my jaw and nod. The sight of the curve of her loins seems to have distracted me more than anything, because I didn”t hear her talking to me before that. Being just ‘friends’ isn”t as simple as I thought. Not with her.
***
The hardness of the ice beneath my skates vibrates in my legs as I step onto the rink. The thud of the crowd in the background echoes in my ears. I tighten my helmet and let my gaze wander to the bench. When I see her, my heart starts to race.
The spotlights shine brightly on the ice, which shimmers with light blue and white. The energy and excitement of the spectators envelop me. I can clearly feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins.
Emily stands upright, her notebook with her - as always - next to Coach Franklyn. I give her a quick wave before taking up my starting position.
As kick-off sounds, my thoughts clear and I concentrate solely on the puck. My gaze meets that of the opposing captain, Lucas Stern, and I sense an electric tension between us. Lucas and I have been rivals for ages. Today”s game isn”t just a game, it”s a competition for the favor of one of the sports agents sitting in the audience. Emily”s articles have paid off and we”ve caught the eye of at least one of them.
And of course, the winner has a better chance of getting an interview.
My skates bite into the ice as I start moving and push the puck in front of me with my stick.
The spectators melt into a ghostly crowd as I concentrate on my teammates and try to pass the puck to them. But there”s little room around me. I”m squeezed in close, and I try to thwart my opponents” attacks.
Suddenly, I see an opening and the puck slides at breakneck speed towards Chase. I free myself from my pursuers and my best friend steps towards me again, keeping hold of our most prized possession. My muscles tense as I accelerate towards the goal.
The keeper is ready, tense, knees bent, and Chase makes a decisive pass for me to shoot. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Emily press her hand to her mouth. I raise my stick and bring it down with force, feel the resistance of the puck and wait to see it get caught in the net.
Holy shit!
I”ve just missed it by inches! I don”t usually miss this kind of shot and I feel anger twist my stomach. Chase looks at me quizzically, but I just shake my head and try to get back into the rhythm of the game. Passes fly, body charges follow, and we fight hard for every inch of ice. Every move is crucial.
The half-time whistle blows, and we return to the locker room without a point to show for it.
I take advantage of this break to regain my concentration and take stock. Emily broke my concentration. And I blame myself. It”s not her fault, that”s for sure. But it”s obvious. If I hadn”t glanced at her, I could have tapped on the window that was open to me.
I can”t let that happen. Today”s game is too important for me to let it go to waste.
Chase approaches me and pats me on the shoulder.
“Dude, don”t let the agents pressure you. You”re a great player. And, no shit, Liam, we can”t let Lucas win!”
He laughs heartily and helps me to my feet.
“We”ll make it, brother!” he insists.
I can feel myself relaxing a little.
Sweat breaks out on my forehead as I dive into the next part of the game. Time seems to stand still as we battle on the ice - a mixture of brute force, skill and strategy.
As the end of the game approaches, I can feel the fatigue in my muscles. But it”s the will to win that keeps me going. The crowd goes wild as I make my way to the goal again. It”s just me and the net, and this time I ignore everything else. I shoot again, watch the puck slide across the ice and between the goalkeeper”s legs.
A few seconds later, the final whistle blows, and I am intoxicated with joy and relief.
We won, admittedly by the skin of our teeth, but we won.
The cheers from the crowd and the hugs from my teammates around me warm my heart. The fact that we fought and won as a united team fills me with immense pride. Every second we spent together in training was worth it.
As we move away from the ice, I can”t help thinking that ice hockey is more than just a sport. It”s about teamwork, determination and fighting spirit. Every game is an opportunity to prove yourself and excel.
I take off my helmet and wipe the sweat from my forehead. I”d do anything for these moments, the exhilaration of victory and the prospect of a successful career.
Even give up on Emily?