Puck

I sort of hate parties.

It's not that I've never gotten drunk, but I didn't particularly enjoy it. Besides, I'm not supposed to drink. It was one of the first rules I was given when I joined the OHL and moved five hours south to live with a billet family. And Jack and Alice are pretty great—I don't want to upset them.

Though really, it's sort of Jack's fault that I'm here.

He insisted that I go out with the team, and this is where the team happened to go; Some end-of-summer shindig that the kids from Governor Simcoe Secondary were throwing.

And well, come next week, I'll be one of the kids that goes to that school, so maybe it will be good to meet a few people. It's just too bad that I can't get the last person that I met out of my head...

MJ.

What is she up to? Why did she suddenly want nothing to do with me, when it had felt like we were hitting it off so well?

It's probably for the best.

Actually, there is no probably about it. It is for the best.

I don't have time for a girlfriend. I eat, breathe, and sleep for hockey, and somehow I still have to find the time to keep up with school. And after what happened with the last girl... Well, I just don't want to set myself up with what could end up being a close call again.

"Here."

A beer is shoved into my hands by one of the older players on my team, Devon.

"Drink up, Puck. We've got a special treat coming your way tonight."

"Oh, uh..." I try to hand the can back to him, "I don't—"

"Ahhh, c'mon. It's our first night out as a team, and I've heard some promising things about you. You're going to be a great addition on the ice, don't be a downer when it comes to the other important part of being a teammate." He lifts his beer in the air and yells, "Celebrating!"

Hands holding beer cans and solo cups are lifted all around us, while team members and high school students join in Devon's cheer.

I'm not sure what we're celebrating when we've yet to play a game, but I crack open the can in my hand and take a quick drink as the rest of them take a long one.

"Yeaaah!" Devon yells in my face with excitement and holds his beer toward me.

I wonder how much he's already drunk while I knock my can against his, then we both tip our heads back to drink again.

"Ahh, good stuff." I don't know why my mouth let out those awkward words, but thankfully Devon is too distracted by someone else bringing their beer toward him to cheers.

I take my opportunity to slip away and find a bathroom. Once inside, I lock the door and dump my beer down the drain.

It may have been Jack's idea to send me out with the team, but there's no way I'm going back to his place drunk. If he doesn't call my coach, he'll call my dad, and neither of those options sound pleasant to me.

I fill the can with tap water and then rejoin the party. As far as anyone can tell, I'm doing my part of "celebrating", but I won't be nursing a hangover tomorrow because of it.

I walk slowly through the crowded room, offering a smile to anyone who makes eye contact with me. I'm not really certain who I'm looking for, but I'm sure someone will pull me into a conversation soon enough. They always do.

Which I guess isn't a bad thing, but damn, I hate small talk. I hate drunk talk too, and those are usually the two kinds of talking that happen at house parties.

I hear an infectious giggle from across the room and find myself smiling as I turn to find the source of the musical sound, and that's when I see her.

MJ.

It takes half a second for my brain to realize it's her. I wasn't expecting to see her here—or ever—and without the green paint on her face, it takes a hot second for me to place where I know her from.

Her eyes meet mine, and that radiant smile of perfect white teeth lights up her face.

"Hi." I mouth the word to her and take a step in her direction, but suddenly her smile fades, and then Devon is stepping in front of me and talking loudly in my face.

"Hey man, come with me. We've got a little welcome gift for you upstairs." He points to the staircase behind me.

"Ahh, you shouldn't have." I smile at him while trying to catch a glimpse around him to see MJ again.

She's nowhere to be seen.

"Nonsense! Think of it as an initiation of sorts."

His words create an uneasy feeling in my chest. I make eye contact with him, masking the nervous energy trying to take hold of me. "Initiation?"

He claps a hand on my shoulder with an obnoxious laugh. "I'm not talking about hazing. It's a good initiation. You'll enjoy it. Believe me." With his hand on my shoulder, he steers me toward the staircase. "Up the stairs, second door on the right. Wait there." He nudges me in the ribs with his elbow and then winks at me. "Welcome to the team, Puck."

Fuck.

I slowly walk up the stairs, wondering the whole way how I'm going to get myself out of this.

I'm ninety percent certain I know what this is. My pal back in Pembroke told me all about it. He said he has this cousin from Ottawa, Damian, who was drafted to the Icedogs last year—I haven't met him yet, so maybe he got traded to another team. Anyway, according to Damien, this girl from Governor Simcoe has a thing for hockey players and gives the best head, especially to newcomers. He said she'll "make you an offer you can't refuse".

Sounds great, right?

Well, not to me.

I mean, I like girls. It wouldn't be the worst thing to get laid or to mess around with one. I already know I like sex.

But things with Sadie really messed with me... and I had at least been dating her. I don't want to end up in a situation like that again, especially not with some random puck bunny from my new high school.

I'd just have to tell this girl no, and then somehow convince her to not tell Devon and the other guys that I turned down their "gift". Shouldn't be too complex, right?

Right, Puck. It'll be easy. As easy as this girl is.

I laugh at my little joke as I open the second door on the right and walk into a neat bedroom. Thankfully, the puck bunny isn't here yet. Devon must be sending her up after me.

I cross the room to look out the window, subconsciously taking a sip of my tap-water-beer.

Ew. I guess I don't have to pretend to drink this when no one's around to see.

I set it down on the nightstand by the bed and let my eyes roam over the bedroom. There's nothing about this room that screams high school student, or even parent. Honestly, it lacks any unique character with its barren, beige walls, grey bedsheets, and clutter-free dresser top. It must be a spare bedroom.

Good. It's so awkward hooking up in some random's bedroom.

But no, wait. I'm not doing that. I'm pretty sure when Jack told me to have fun and to blow off some steam, this wasn't what he was talking about.

Well, she'd be doing the blowing, Puck...

No! It might feel good in the moment, but I'd feel like shit about it later. It's just not going to happen. I will find my way out of this, while somehow keeping my cool guy status.

I hear the door open and my palms start to sweat.

Well, here goes nothing. I turn around to face the girl that's here to "welcome" me, and am horrified when I see MJ letting herself into the room.

No, no, no. This can't be happening. She must have seen me come up here and followed me in hopes that we could talk. What is she going to think when another girl walks into the room?

"MJ," I greet her and hope she doesn't notice the unease in my voice. "H-hey. Wow. I didn't expect to see you here..."

"Hi, Jonah. And it's Marlowe actually, or just Lowe. Only my mom calls me MJ. I don't know why I introduced myself to you as that." She sounds bored or maybe annoyed, and I'm once again trying to figure out what I've done to upset her.

I laugh nervously. "Well, that's kind of funny..."

She gives me a look like I'm a peculiar species. "Why is that funny?"

"Only my mom calls me Jonah." I shrug my shoulders. "As far as I know, it is my name though, which is why I used it to introduce myself, even if everyone else calls me Puck."

A small smile tugs at her lips and I feel a warm feeling start up in my chest, but her smile quickly disappears and takes the warm feeling with it.

I nervously glance toward the door, praying that it doesn't swing open before I can come up with an excuse to get MJ—No, Marlowe out of here.

"So, umm..."

"Look, Puck."

We start talking at the same time, and both close our mouths at the same time too.

I gesture toward her with my hand. "Go ahead. Ladies first." I offer her a smile, but on the inside, I'm wondering why she said my name with such disdain.

Marlowe sighs. "So, Puck,"—again, with the disdainful attitude—"here's the deal. I'm not going to sleep with you, but you're going to pretend that we hooked up, and in return, every girl will want you and you'll be the cool guy, and still get to stay out of trouble. Got it?"

No, I don't think I got any of that. Did she just...

My eyes move toward the door which still hasn't opened, then they move back to Marlowe. And it finally dawns on me why the puck bunny hasn't waltzed in to blow my cover.

Marlowe is the puck bunny.