S C O T T

"Get up," Connor said. I felt my bed dip to the side and I groaned, kicking out blindly in an attempt to get him off my bed, "c'mon cutie, up and at 'em."

I groaned again, eyelashes fluttering against my pillow, "Did you just call me cutie?"

"Fine," Connor said, and I sighed when he stood up, the bed going back to normal. I hadn't gone to bed until almost two in the morning, and I just wanted to sleep, "if being nice doesn't work, then I'll have to resort to being mean. Get up, douchebag."

I snorted and wrapped my comforter tighter around me, "That doesn't work either, Con. Get out and make breakfast or something."

"Offensive. I apologize in advance, but you drove me to this, Scott."

Before I could question Connor - or demand that he let me sleep - I felt the bed dip again. I moaned and lifted my head up, only to see Connor sitting right next to me. He grinned and ran a hand through his light hair. I quirked an eyebrow at him, and he just wiggled his eyebrows before launching himself at me.

I shouted and rolled on the other side of my bed, but Con grabbed my arm and pulled me back. I lifted my elbow and clocked him in the chest. Connor just laughed and attempted to pin me down in an attempt to wake me up.

When Connor and I were younger, we always used to wrestle as a way to wake each other up. And as we got older, the tradition stayed with us because it really did work. Any bit of noise woke Con up, and after wrestling (and usually beating Connor), I was up and couldn't go back to bed.

I sat up and easily pinned Connor's arm behind his back. I smirked and pushed him off my bed, laughing when he flailed his arms for a few seconds before yelping and falling back onto his bed. I swung my legs off and ran a hand through my wavy hair, lightly kicking Connor in the ribs and grinning down at my best friend.

"By the way," Connor mumbled, rolling over on the floor. He put his hands behind his back and looked up at me, "it's twelve-thirty and I'm pretty sure you have practice with Elle at one, right?"

"Shit!" I yelled, because if I was late, Elle would have my head on a silver platter. I couldn't afford to be late.

I cursed and stumbled across my bedroom. I threw my drawers open and pulled out a black shirt and a pair of sweatpants. I quickly got dressed, rolling my eyes when Connor grabbed a pillow to cover his eyes. I bit my lip and shoved my feet into a pair of sneakers, trying to figure out how badly I would have to speed to make it on time.

I grabbed my hockey bag and dragged it across the floor, attempting to make my hair look like I hadn't just rolled out of bed. I sighed and pushed my bag across the floor with my feet, stopping next to the kitchen. I grimaced and dropped into one of the bar-stools, grabbing a banana off the counter.

"You're a mess," Con leaned against the counter and grinned at me, "no wonder you need Elle to whip you into shape."

"She's not whipping me into shape," I muttered, grabbing my bag and keys. I huffed and made my way over to the door, "I'm not having this conversation! I have to go, I'm late as is."

"Have fun!" Connor sang, and I slammed the door behind me.

The whole drive to the park, I was at least five miles over the speed-limit. Elle took practice extremely serious, and if she thought I was anything but serious about it, she wouldn't hesitate to cancel them. So I drove quickly, cursing under my breath and attempting to not get behind all the bad drivers. (Though it seemed every bad driver was on the road).

I quickly pulled into the parking lot; just as the clock said one. I frowned and grabbed my bag, sprinting across the pavement towards the track, where I figured Elle would be again. I stumbled over every loose pebble and I almost face-planted a good amount of times.

I stopped when I saw Elle sitting on the edge of the track. She was looking at something on her phone and mumbling something under her breath, but I was too far to hear. I was almost tempted to turn back and leave her there; she looked so nice, and she wasn't saying anything sarcastic or annoying. It was a nice sight.

"Dumbass!" she snapped, pulling her phone away from her face and scoffing. I snorted and she turned to me, quirking an eyebrow, "Where you gonna stand there all day, or actually come practice?"

I grinned, "I'm kind of nervous to, if I'm to be honest."

"Four laps," Elle said, eyebrows furrowed as she looked down at her phone. She shook her head, shoved it in her pocket and stood up, "C'mon, Scott. Let's start."

I really didn't want to practice - not when I had another one tomorrow. Try-outs were coming to a close soon, and Coach Monroe would start making the final cuts in a few weeks. And with all the stress and nervousness, I just wanted a relaxing day. So I gave Elle my most charming smile and rocked forward on my heels.

I bit my lip and scratched the back of my head, "How about we just hang out today?"

Elle's eyebrows furrowed again and she ran a hand through her blonde hair, "What are you talking about?"

"A break," I said, waving my hands for emphasis, "instead of practice and run pointless laps, let's do something else. Like go to a movie or something."

"There's no good movies out."

"Then we can go out to eat."

"I already ate."

I groaned and tossed my head backwards. Elle was impossible - she really was. But I really didn't want to have a practice, and I was going to convince her to do something else. Plus, when I was with Elle when she wasn't focused on hockey, she was actually nice and just enjoyable to be around.

"It's just, real try-outs are soon," Elle frowned and looked down, before looking back up and meeting my eyes, "and we've only had a few practices. You have improved a lot, and you're doing brilliantly. But I don't want to just stop and risk something going on."

I couldn't help but grin when Elle's cheeks flushed and she ducked her head back down. There was sincerity in her voice, and she didn't want to do anything that could risk messing me up for try-outs. My grin widened and I felt my cheeks flush because what she said had been extremely nice and caring.

I rubbed my hands together and shook my head, trying to get my face back to its normal color, "Okay, what if we make a deal?" Elle rose her eyebrows, and I took that as my initiative to continue on, "If I can get past you, and make a goal, we'll do something besides practice."

"And if you don't?"

"Then I'll run laps until my lungs explode," Elle grinned and I smirked back at her, holding out my hand. I flushed again when my hand completely enveloped hers as we shook, "let's go."

Scoring on Elle proved to be a lot harder than I had expected.

After I completely messed up the first time, she decided to give me a second chance. And when I messed that up (because Elle moved fast), she gave me one more chance. And I had rolled my shoulders and decided that there was no chance in Hell I was going to lose. And I barely got passed her and scored - but I did it.

I blew out a breath and leaned against my stick, eying Elle. She was wearing my practice jersey, again. She had insisted that I didn't deserve the jersey unless I managed to beat her, but she didn't seem like she was taking it off any time soon. I didn't mind.

"Yes!" I cheered, smirking at her. I swung my stick around my hand and flexed, laughing when Elle rolled her eyes, "I do believe that means that I won!"

Elle narrowed her light eyes, "Only because I gave you three chances."

"Ah, don't be a sore loser," I stuck out my tongue and wrapped my arm around her shoulders. I led Elle to the parking lot, one arm holding my bag and stick, "I'll be a gentleman and drive around until we found something we both want to do."

Elle scoffed, "How chivalrous."

Once we got to the car, I started driving around. Every place I pointed out, Elle declined. And every place she pointed out, I declined. All the restaurants I suggested, Elle said she had been there recently or wasn't in the mood for that type of food. And she just pointed out all the little diners that didn't look quite fun.

I sighed and leaned back in my seat, driving slowly down the street. We had passed the majority of restaurants, and now I was just looking for anything to do. I was even ready to go back to the apartment and watch a movie. (Though Con would end up joining and insisting we watch Jonah Hill.)

I cocked my head to the side and saw the bright green side: Glow In The Dark Mini-Golf. I grinned and swerved the car over, making Elle yelp and grasp the door handle dramatically. I rolled my eyes and drove over to it, parking the car next to the building.

"Really?" Elle asked, a small smile on her face as she looked at the building, "You almost killed me so we could play mini-golf?"

"Firstly, I didn't almost kill you," I rolled my eyes, and then grinned and nodded. I loved mini-golf, and used to always go, "and secondly, it's not just mini-golf, Elle. This is glow in the dark mini-golf!"

"You're a child trapped inside a man's body."

I just grinned and pulled the keys out of the ignition. I loved hockey, and I didn't mind practicing at all. But playing mini-golf just sounded amazing, and I hadn't played since I was younger, so I was dying to do it again.

I nodded my head towards the door, "We're playing. I'll teach you everything you need to know to be a pro."

"Who says I'm already not?" Elle grinned at me and rose her eyebrows challengingly, "Maybe I could teach you something, Wilson."

I looked at Elle in my jersey, and couldn't help but grin back at me, "It's on, Monroe."