Chapter 6 #3
“—and you’re very protective of it. If you explain to Alex that it’s going to take you some time to become comfortable with him, I’m sure he’ll understand. Especially since as a… What did you call him?”
“Demisexual.”
“Right. Since he’s demisexual, it’s going to take him some time to develop feelings for you. If he does at all.”
Mitch buried his face in his hands. “Thanks, Dad.”
“I mean, of course he will.” His dad patted Mitch on the head. “All I’m saying is, you’re both going to be taking your time with each other for different reasons. Use that time. Get to know each other. And if nothing comes of it, then you’ll have probably made a new friend for life.”
“That’s what Cody said.”
“Because he’s smart. He was always good for you. Anyway, shouldn’t you be going?”
Jesus, two hours had flown by and Mitch needed to be at the rink in the next fifteen minutes if he didn’t want to be benched.
Mitch waited outside in the setting sun, equipment bag over his shoulder, while his dad paid the bill. When his dad came out of The Green Onion, he handed Mitch a wad of twenties.
“Here,” he said. “Get some food in you. You’ve lost weight.”
Mitch looked down at himself. “Have not.”
His dad stuffed the money in the front pocket of Mitch’s jeans. “I’ll transfer some money into your account when I get back in front of my computer.”
“Dad, you don’t have to do that. Cody and I get by fine.”
His dad put a hand on Mitch’s back and steered him toward a rental car parked on the street. “By ‘fine’, I assume you mean living from paycheck to paycheck?”
Cheeks flushing, Mitch bumped his shoulder against his dad’s. “Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it. Where are you parked?”
“I’m not. Cody dropped me off.”
His dad grunted. “Why didn’t he come in? You both know I wouldn’t have minded if he joined us.”
“You know Cody. He didn’t want to intrude.”
Another grunt from his dad. “Come on, I’ll give you a ride to the rink.”
Mitch put his seatbelt on and waited for his dad to pull out into the minimal traffic before asking, “Will I see you after the game?”
“I don’t know, will you? Don’t you guys party after games? This is college, right? Where everybody is always drunk.”
“Sure, but if I tell my friends that I’m visiting with my dad since he’s only in town for the day, then I don’t have to go.”
“Oh, I see. I’m your beard.”
“Uh, I don’t think that’s how that word is supposed to be used.”
“No?” His dad shrugged. “Huh. Regardless, why don’t I come over after the game? I’ll bring beer.”
“Yeah? Alex wouldn’t buy me beer the other day. Said I wasn’t legal drinking age.”
His dad pulled into Glen Hill College’s athletic center parking lot and shot Mitch a wink. “I like him already.”
* * *
It smelled like popcorn, sweat, and ice inside the Glen Hill College ice rink. Fuck, Alex loved this smell. Nothing smelled quite like a hockey rink, and damn he missed hockey.
His friends had dragged him to the GH vs Sacred Heart game after he’d spent the past four days ignoring them.
The words were flowing, which meant his social life got put on the back burner in favor of writing.
He’d spoken with a guy on his team earlier this week who was happy to share his story with Alex for his book.
He and his wife had waited to have kids until after he retired from hockey, which was likely to be in the next couple of years.
But they’d recently discovered that due to a pre-existing medical condition, she was past the age where she could safely bring a child to full term without endangering herself or the baby.
Dark side of sports, indeed. He’d written over ten thousand words in the past four days in between short breaks to visit Grandpa Forest. It was slow going, given he couldn’t move the fingers sticking out of his cast much, but he was making it work.
“No pressure,” his editor and former classmate, Kate Harvey, had said over the phone when he’d pitched his idea to her last week. “But we’d love to release this book in August or September next year, in time for the NHL preseason. So the sooner we have it, the better.”
It left him until the end of February to get her a first draft.
Yeah, right. No pressure.
The crowd jumped to its feet, jerking Alex from his wandering thoughts. Fuck, his team had scored and he’d missed it.
On his right, Jay stuck two fingers in his mouth and let out a piercing whistle. When he sat back down, Alex asked, “What’d I miss?”
“Seriously?” Incredulousness dripped from his voice. “Where’ve you been?”
“Just…” He shook his head. “Lost in thoughts.”
“Your grandpa?” Jay bumped his shoulder. “Sorry, man. So, who’s the guy you’re tutoring?”
The topic change wasn’t exactly subtle, but Alex jumped on it anyway. “That guy.” He pointed. “Number nineteen.”
“That’s the guy who just scored.”
Alex had to laugh. Of course, it had been Mitch who’d scored. Alex had learned via archived GH newspaper articles and Youtube videos that Mitch was the Mountaineers’ top scorer, even last year when he’d been a green freshman.
Coach Bedley had told Alex that they tried not to put Mitch in front of reporters, and now Alex knew why. His favorite Mitch Greyson quote was from an article last year, when the reporter had asked Mitch how he felt about winning the game.
Mitch’s response? “Why do reporters ask such stupid questions? How do you think I feel? We fucking won. Jesus.”
Alex had stumbled on the articles accidentally when he’d been searching for some background on Mitch for his book.
He still hadn’t asked Mitch for his help, sure that the kid would close down and retreat behind his walls if he did.
Mitch no doubt wouldn’t appreciate Alex going behind his back and digging for information online, but really, there was nothing to find.
Only numerous articles and a seldom used social media account.
“Man, that guy is on fire!” Jay yelled when Mitch scored yet again in the third.
“He might suck at writing,” JP said from Jay’s other side. “But he’s one hell of a hockey player.”
No argument, there. Mitch was wicked on the ice, playing with a renewed fire that had been missing from last week’s games against Denver.
His speed was incredible. He did some kind of fancy footwork that allowed him to turn on a dime and then turn the other way again, all while weaving between players and shooting a cross-ice pass to his right winger.
Mitch moved so fast, the other players seemed to be standing still. It was amazing to watch.
Alex pictured himself attempting Mitch’s fancy footwork, then imagined himself promptly falling on his ass. Maybe he’d ask Mitch for some pointers.
The game ended with a shutout for the Mountaineers. Embarrassingly, Alex had missed most of it, lost in thoughts about Grandpa Forest and his book and Mitch’s latest revisions to his short story for JP’s class.
Mitch’s story was incredibly sad. It was about a kid who had one last chance at joining a hockey team.
Despite being a talented player, no other team wanted him because they didn’t like him.
This was his last shot. He didn’t make it, and he ended up working a job he hated—on a bee farm—for the rest of his life, where he eventually died from one too many bee stings.
Was that how Mitch felt? Like the entire world was against him? Was he worried that he’d end up alone, in a job he despised, where he’d work himself into having a heart attack at an early age?
Alex wouldn’t normally read so much into a person’s story, but since Mitch wasn’t a writer and thus unschooled on creating characters and conflict, he’d most likely unconsciously written a character and situation that mirrored his own. It gave Alex a whole new perspective on who Mitch was.
Mitch’s character was lonely and sad because he’d been hurt by people who were supposed to love him, and he’d built a wall to keep everyone at arm’s length.
Had Mitch created a character who was basically…him?
Midway across the parking lot on his way to JP’s car, Alex stopped. Jay almost bumped into him.
“Dude,” Jay said. “Don’t stop in the middle of the road.”
Up ahead, JP paused to wait for them.
“I’ll meet you guys there.” Alex reversed course and headed back the way he’d come. “There’s something I need to do first.”
He found a freshly showered Mitch in the hallway outside the locker room talking to a tall blond guy who looked about Mitch’s age, and an even taller guy with a shaved head who looked like a boxer. Shit, Alex didn’t want to interrupt. Wait or go, wait or go.
Mitch’s shouted “Alex!” took the decision out of his hands.
Alex joined the little group and was promptly introduced to Mitch’s best friend, Cody, and his dad, Geoff.
“I hear you’re tutoring Mitch in his writing course,” Geoff said.
“Yes, sir.”
“He needs it.”
“I know it.”
“Hey!”
Alex laughed. “I’m kidding,” he said to Mitch. “Actually, the last revisions you sent me this morning were spot on. You can go ahead and submit it now.”
“Oh, okay. Thanks.” Mitch bit his lip and blinked at Alex blankly. “Is that what you came to tell me?”
Alex jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Some friends and I are headed to the Bean Bag for an hour or so. I was going to ask if you wanted to join us, but, uh…” He waved at Geoff and Cody.
“You were?” Mitch’s voice rose. He cleared his throat and fidgeted on his feet. “Thanks, but…” He looked at Geoff. “My dad’s only here for the day.”
“You should go out with your friends, kiddo.”
“What? No, I—”
“It’s okay,” Alex said. The image of Mitch as sad and lonely because he thought nobody liked him made Alex’s chest hurt.
If he needed friends, Alex was going to goddamn give them to him.
JP and Jay accepted anyone, as long as they were decent.
And Mitch was that, once he relaxed enough to drop his walls.
But the indecision on Mitch’s face was obvious and Alex didn’t want to put him in a tough spot. “Next time?”
Mitch beamed at him. “Definitely.”
Alex backed away. “It was nice to meet you,” he said to Geoff. He nodded at Cody, who’d stood mutely watching the interplay with interest. “Nice game tonight, Mitch.”
“Thanks. See you Monday?”
Alex nodded once, turned, and started the short walk to the coffee shop to join his friends.