S C O T T

It was the final try-out today.

Well, technically it was the final try-out. Today they had called in the entire team, a total of forty-something guys. We'd do drills today, and a small game, and then make the cuts for tomorrow. Whoever made the cut would get called in tomorrow, and then the same would happen. On the third day, we would find out who actually made it.

But still, it was safe to say that my nerves were through the roof.

I had shown up fifteen minutes early, and had been sitting on the bench, tightening my laces, adjusting my mouth-guard, and just waiting for the try-out to begin. Connor had been sending a lot of encouraging text (with way too many smiley faces), but, really, I couldn't help but wait for Elle to come.

I sighed and leaned back against the bleachers, closing my eyes, and pinching the bridge of my nose anxiously. I had always been fairly confident at try-outs, but this was something different entirely. If I made the team - an official team for Toronto - that could mean making it further. I shook my head, trying to keep my nerves under control.

"You're early," I peeked open one eye and saw Jay sitting next to me, a wide grin on his face, "who shows up early?"

I snorted and opened both my eyes, seeing how energetic and happy Jay looked, "Someone who wants to make the team," I offered, cocking an eyebrow, "and someone who definitely knows how to charm the coach. He noticed me come in early."

"He's been in his office, Scott."

"He felt my presence," I said, and Jay snorted this time, shaking his head. I frowned and ran my fingers through my hair, looking at my helmet that I had sitting on the bench next to me, "are you ready for today?"

Connor had asked me the same question this morning, and I had confidently said, 'hell yeah.' Truthfully, I was ready. All the practices with Elle, and then the practices in general, had boosted my confidence. I knew I was ready for practice, and today was the day that I showed just how ready I was.

"I don't really 'get ready'," Jay said, pushing his stick between his hands, "I just go out and try to make sure I don't bust up my nose."

I rolled my eyes, knowing exactly what Jay's referring to, "If you want your nose busted, I'd be happy to help."

Before Jay could say anything, Edi dropped down into the bleacher below us and turned, grinning. During practices, I had started spending more time with Jay and Edi. They were both annoying at times, but they had become the guys I was closest to on the team.

"What're we talking about?" Edi asked, grabbing his helmet and adjusting the strap.

Jay put a hand to his heart, giving me a mock-pained look, "I'm pretty sure Scott was just threatening my life."

"You're an idiot," I deadpanned, snatching my helmet off the bleachers and putting it on. Coach Monroe walked out and I punched Edi and Jay's shoulders, "I'll try not to show you up."

Smirking, I adjusted my pads and walked down the bleachers, going into the ice quickly. Coach Monroe was standing in the middle of the ice and everyone skated around him, waiting to hear how this was going to happen. I sighed and gripped my stick, pushing down any nervousness; this was going to be okay. Connor was confident in me, and Elle had sent me a bunch of, 'it'll be great!' text last night.

Coach Monroe blew his whistle and I leaned against my stick, running through everything I had practiced recently; no sharp turns, think everything through, and hold the stick tightly - but not too tight. I was ready.

"Today is the first, proper tryout," Monroe said, and everyone let out collective 'whoops', "today will be a lot of drills, and then we'll end it with a scrimmage. If you make the cut, then you'll get a call tonight telling you to come tomorrow."

That - hearing Coach Monroe talking about cuts - was nerve wracking. Every since I had started playing hockey in school, I had always made the cuts. But this was a professional team, and it just managed to spike up the nerves I had been trying to force down.

Coach Monroe explained the first drill: we split into two lines, one side offense, one defense. Two from offense and defense would go out, and whichever one of the offensive players made the goal would move to the defensive line, and the player that didn't make it went back into the offensive line. The defensive guys switched with each play; it was simple, really.

"Edi!" Coach Monroe shouted, and Edi's head snapped up, "You start out in goal!"

I grinned and watched the two guys in front of me skate out. I watched with mild interest, trying to prepare myself to go out. No matter how ready and confident I was, there was always an underlying feeling of nervousness.

The one offensive player skated towards the defensive side, and Monroe pointed to me and then the ice. I skated out, stick held between my hands. Jay and the other defensive guy skated out and I saw him grin from behind his helmet, brown eyes practically twinkling. I snorted and skated towards the middle, lining my stick up with the puck.

Coach Monroe blew the whistle and then everything was a blur.

Playing hockey - being on the ice - was an unexplainable experience. Everything seemed to blur out of focus except the puck, and the sound of my skates cutting across the ice. I could only see my partner (a guy I recognized as Andrew), and the defensive players. When I was playing - when I had the puck held safely between my stick - nothing else mattered. There was nothing else but me and the puck and the goal.

I slapped the puck to Andrew, who skated around the other defensive guy. Seeing he had no other options, he hit the puck back to me and I froze. Jay was coming towards me, but he was leaning towards the right, in the direction he thought I would go. I remembered everything Elle had told me: think about everything before I did it. Think.

I swiftly skated to the left, bypassing Jay. I brought my stick back and slammed it against the puck, watching with a satisfied grin as it slid across the ice and into the goal. Andrew grinned and I whooped, skating back towards the defensive line.

After about a half-hour of that drill, Coach Monroe had the goalies practice defending the goal, and everyone else practice their shots. Jay and I had a little competition of who could make more shots, and I won, which only helped boost my confidence. I wasn't nervous anymore; all my nerves had been completely covered with adrenaline and happiness.

"New drill," Monroe called, and I turned, easily slapping the puck back into the now-empty goal, "is everyone familiar with the weave?"

I knew what the weave was considering I had done it at basically every hockey practice.

Basically, there were two wings and a middle. The middle passed to one of the wings, and followed through with his shot, making him become the middle. They just continually passed it back and weaved between each other until they got close enough to the goal and took the shot. It was simple, but a little hard considering you had to stay in perfect sync with your partners.

"All right," Monroe said, holding a clipboard, "to start I want Jake, Scott, and Jay. Michael in the goal."

I skated forward, taking the middle position while Jay went to left wing and Jake took right wing. Coach Monroe kicked the puck towards me and I waited, adrenaline flooding my veins. My fingers were practically twitching with excitement and I grinned. The whistle blew and I took off.

I heard someone come into the rink, but I didn't bother looking. I adjusted my grip and slapped the puck to the side, watching as Jay caught it. I skated behind him and took his position while he went into the middle. Hitting the puck to Jake, the three of us continued to weave down the rink, puck being hit between us.

"Scott, you take the shot!" Jay called to me, nodding his head in my direction before passing me the puck.

I skated towards the middle, sweat dripping down my temples. I but my lip and skated forward, keeping the puck securely between me. I could hear my heart racing, and my grip on my stick was ridiculously tight.

"Scott!" a familiar voice called out, and I cocked my head to the side slightly, seeing Elle standing up in the bleachers, "You get this, Scott!"

Elle whooped and cheered, making her dad send the two of is a confused look. I grinned ridiculously wide and brought my stick back, slamming it against the puck. It whizzed across the ice, sliding right between the goalies legs.

"Yes!" Elle cried, and even I could hear the pride in her voice, "Finally an amazing goal!"

Jay pulled his helmet off, running a finger through his dark hair. He smirked at me, brown eyes sparkling, "Someone's got a fan."

I didn't really know how I ended up going out to lunch with Elle. When tryouts ended (I had gotten checked during the scrimmage, and Jay had yelled to, "be polite with Scott, he's fragile"), she had told me we should go out to lunch and talk. And I agreed, despite being exhausted because it was Elle, and she could be fun to spend time with.

We had settled for Timmies, and we were sitting on one of the couches in the back. I held my coffee tightly, still in my practice jersey.

My nerves were through the roof, and I kept going through the tryout today. I knew I had done good, but what if I had messed something up and didn't even notice? I sighed and bit my lip, digging my toes into the carpet below me.

"You did fine," Elle assured me, lips twitching up into an amused smile, "up until you got checked. That was kind of funny, though."

I rolled my eyes and scoffed, "That wasn't funny. I thought I was going to bust through the wall."

"Now that would've been hilarious."

I rolled my eyes again and leaned back against the couch, tapping the tip of my shoes against the floor. Jay and Edi assured me I did fine, and Elle promised I did amazingly. But it was still hard to deny how nervous I was; I even kept checking my phone, even though I knew Coach Monroe wouldn't call for a few hours.

My phone vibrated and I frowned, looking down and seeing Connor's name across the screen. I snorted and unlocked my phone, reluctantly accepting the call and getting ready for the questions.

"Where are you?" Connor demanded immediately, "You said you would be home right after practice and I even left the door unlocked. I could've been murdered, Scott!"

"If only," I muttered, and Elle bit her thumb to keep from laughing, "Con, I'll be home soon - "

"Not good enough - "

"I'm with Elle," I cut him off, and heard Connor sigh on the other line.

Connor was still pushing the fact that Elle was my treasure, and I knew telling him I was with her would stop whatever rant he was about to go on. Plus, he had grown to totally love Elle, and encouraged me to hang out with her more. He basically had began acting like an annoying mom.

"Okay, I'll save my rant for when you're home," Connor said seriously, "but for now just, you know.. Have fun with Elle. Love you, Scotty!"

The phone call ended and I looked up at Elle, cheeks flushed bright red. She smirked and ducked her head, focusing on her cup of coffee. Leave it to Connor to call me and manage to make the situation fucking awkward. I shot Elle a smile and she just laughed.

"You're gonna make the team," Elle promised, shooting me a completely sincere look, "I promise."

I grinned, tugging on the sleeves of my jersey which Elle seemed to love. She had been so supportive recently, even if she did always add in sarcastic comments. But she deserved something for being there for me so often.

"I've got an idea," I fully turned to her, locking eyes, "you've been so supportive, so if I make the team and get a proper jersey, then I'm giving you this jersey."

Elle smirked and leaned forward, "My gift for having to suffer through you complaining during practices?"

I laughed but shook my head, "I can always keep it if you want.."

Elle smiled and held out her hand, making me shake it, "You've got a deal, Wilson."

Elle and I fell into a comfortable silence, each of us leaning against the couch. I liked when Elle wasn't saying something sarcastic or rude - when I could just sit with here and talk and joke and just be friends.

Sitting up suddenly, her eyes locked on the clock and widened, "Shit. I've got to go."

I watched as she shoved her keys and phone into her purse and picked up her coffee. She grinned at me, pausing in shoving everything messily into her bag.

And then it all happened suddenly.

"You did amazing," Elle said, leaning down and pressing her lips right beside my own.