Sebastian
SEBASTIAN
I catch the tension when Captain invites me out with the team to celebrate our win. In the back of my head, that good conscience angel - who usually doesn’t have shit to say - is chirping up suddenly out of nowhere, telling me my presence there will only stir up trouble. But the little devil – who’s usually pretty loud – is telling me I want to go out and celebrate, and don’t I have every right? I scored a goal - empty net or not - and had surely the best assist in the entire game? Plus, I want to see what Austin’s like when he’s drunk.
Coach makes us wear suits to away games – to prepare us for the NHL – and most of the guys are wearing cheap, shiny grey suits and tugging at the lapel like they’re not used to wearing anything but jerseys and hoodies.
My Tom Ford fits like a glove and I’m used to dressing stuffy for my dad’s business parties. Parading me around in front of his associates like a prize pig.
Austin doesn’t exactly look comfortable in his suit, but at least it doesn’t look as cheap as the other guys’. I wonder why he seems to have such a hang-up about my family’s money if he’s not poor himself.
“I need to go home and change before we go out, this suit’s killing me,” Gray whines.
“You’ll have to get used to it if you’re gonna go pro next year,” Austin reminds him.
“I know, but not right now.”
Most of the guys follow him and seeing he’ll be the only one at the bar in a suit, Austin decides to go home and change too.
“You getting changed Yale?”
“I didn’t trash my dad’s AMEX for a Tom Ford just to sit on a sweaty coach for fifteen minutes.”
He rolls his eyes.
“What’s this anyway?” I reach out and stroke the lapel on his jacket between my finger and thumb. “Armani?”
Austin’s cheeks tint and he takes an almost imperceptible step back. “You’re kidding right? My ma got it on sale at Macy’s, it’s like Alfani or some shit.”
The blush deepens.
“Well, it looks good anyway.”
He shrugs, turning his face away. “Whatever, I’m gonna go change, meet you at the bar.”
I get the drinks and wait for the team in a corner booth.
A group of girls come over with cocktails and ask if I’m on the hockey team.
“Yeah.” I check my watch, hoping they’ll catch my disinterest.
“Cool, are they coming here now?”
I glance at the table full of beers, but they just stare at me with big doe eyes, waiting for my answer.
“Yeah.”
“What position do you play?” One of them asks as they all slide in and make themselves comfortable.
“I’m a center-forward.”
“Oh really?” She slides a little closer, her thigh touching mine through the suit.
“Why are you dressed like this?”
“It’s game day? We played Harvard at their rink, Coach likes us to look smart, it gives off a good impression of the school.”
“I like it,” the girl says, rubbing the fabric between her finger and thumb.
I sigh and take the jacket off. “Here, try it on if you want.”
“Can I? Really?”
Her friends giggle and I sip my beer. Jesus Christ these girls remind me of my little sister – the one who’s still a freshman in high-school.
“Ooh, Tom Ford, this must have cost a fortune.”
“It was a gift from my mom,” I lie.
“Oh my god that’s so cute.”
I roll my eyes. Okay they’re silly, but they could be kind of fun.
The doors open and in walk the rest of the team. Captain is wearing a maroon hoodie with the school hockey logo on the front and the girls’ heads snap in his direction.
“Oh my god it’s Austin Donoghue!” One of the girls exclaims in a stage whisper. My lips quirk up into a smile because yeah, my inner fanboy was just saying exactly the same thing.
“You like him?” I ask.
The girl wearing my jacket blushes.
“I’ll introduce you.”
“Hey Captain!” I stand up and wave him over. He looks embarrassed.
“This is… sorry I didn’t catch your name.”
“Sarah,” the girl still wearing my fucking jacket while making goo goo eyes at Austin says.
“Hi, nice to meet you.” Austin literally shakes her hand. What the fuck is wrong with him? I watch his gaze roam over my jacket. So maybe he doesn’t want to share? He knows I’m gay, what’s the problem?
“Oh, here.” Sarah shucks out of my jacket and hands it to me like she just found it on the floor at Walmart. So girls would walk over my cold, dead corpse to get to Austin? Got it.
The guys slide into the booth. They’re distracted enough by the girls to stop being pissed at me at least. Gray even thanks me for the beer.
I make space for Austin, so he can sit next to Sarah, and pretend not to listen while she drools all over him.
I don’t know what I expected him to be like around girls, but it’s definitely not this stilted, overly polite, stick in the mud. I’d expected some Jersey boy charm and charisma. The kind that oozes off him on the ice.
He excuses himself at the first opportunity and goes to the bathroom. I follow him, obviously.
Grinning, I unzip and stand a polite distance away at the urinals.
He groans. “What are you smiling about?”
“You, captain of the hockey team being shy around a hot girl.”
“I’m not interested.”
“Why not?”
He looks straight ahead as he pees into the urinal and I try not to even think about looking down.
“I’m just not.”
He zips up and turns away.
“Come on, you know I’m not going to let you off the hook until you give me a reason. She not your type? You don’t like brunettes? More of a blond guy?”
My heart speeds a little at this. I meant blond women , but am I the only one who feels the ambiguity lingering in the air?
“I like brunettes fine,” he says. “My ex had brown hair.”
Austin finishes washing his hands and wipes his hands on a paper towel.
“Oh I see.”
“What?”
“You’re still into her.”
He takes a deep inhale like he’s about to protest, but closes his mouth instead. My heart sinks.
“What’s her name?”
“Alyssa, but there’s nothing going on, it’s over.”
“Why?”
“Because she’s in Jersey and I’m here.”
“Is that the only reason?”
He sets his jaw and his cheeks flush. There’s something else there, but even I know not to push. Anyway, I’m the last person he’d tell his problems to.
The door opens and Jordan walks in, his big shoulders taking up all the space. His gaze flitters between us and I wonder if it looks like we’ve been arguing. Captain definitely looks pissed.
I’m uncharacteristically quiet for the rest of the night, trying to imagine Alyssa. Even her name is pretty. I picture Austin and Alyssa, maybe she’s wearing an A&A pendant? Something Austin bought her from Macy’s, seeing as his mom likes to shop there. I bet she gets along with Austin’s mom. I bet they’ll get back together once he’s playing in the NHL, and she’ll be at every game in his jersey. Featured on hockey blogs as a hot WAG. I imagine her to be classy, but down to earth. Like Austin. Fuck, it sucks having a crush.