S C O T T

The second Edi, Jay, and Kelly filed out of our apartment, Connor whiped towards me. I only had time to shoot Con a sheepish smile before he pushed me down onto the couch and crossed his arms over his chest, glaring down at me. I had only seen Connor get made a couple of times, but now was definitely one of them.

"You're an idiot," Connor stated, and I glared right back at him. I pursed my lips in annoyance and Con just shook his head, "Like, if there was a scale of idiots, you'd be at the top. Right at the top! 'Scott Wilson' would be written as the top idiot."

I leaned back against the couch and scowled at him, "I get it."

"No, no you don't," Connor said, leaning forward and snatching the pillow out from behind me. He flung it behind him and Miguel hissed and ran away, "If you got it, you'd agree that you're the top idiot in the world."

I sighed and slouched further against the couch, staring at Connor. I still wasn't even sure what I had done wrong, but Connor seemed totally intent on letting me know what I had done. Or, at least, totally intent to pace in front of me and say how big of an idiot I was. Honestly, I didn't get it; I didn't understand what I had done wrong.

"When Elle says she just wants to spend time together, you don't blow her off when that's a time to spend time together - "

"Hold on," I said, leaning forward in my seat. I narrowed my eyes at Con and ruffled up my messy hair, "How the hell did you even hear what she said? I was talking to her on the phone."

Connor stared at me, mouth open, and sighed loudly, waving his hands frantically at the walls, "Paper thin walls, Scott! Plus you keep your phone on the loudest volume. It would be hard for me to have not heard your conversation."

"Or, you mean, you leaned against my door so you could hear perfectly."

Connor waved his hand, brushing off the topic. I groaned and went to sit up, and Connor, with a surprising amount of strength, pushed me back down onto the couch. I stared up at him, adjusted my shirt, and Con just shrugged, still staring down at me. I knew I wouldn't be getting out of this until Con had totally gotten his point across.

"I'm going to explain this to you, all right?" I opened my mouth to say something, but Connor just continued, "Don't say anything. When you speak, it makes me want to shoot you and I really don't want a criminal record. I'd die in jail."

I rolled my eyes, but a smile tugged on my lips nontheless, "Great - "

"Sit down!" reluctantly, I held up my hands and sank back down into the couch, "You're a hockey player for a fucking official team, man! I don't know if you've noticed, but you've been pretty busy, yeah? Elle got sick, and you guys spent a good amount of time apart. And that's fine, but you guys usually don't go days without seeing each other."

I nodded, because, for once, Connor was actually making sense. I had been pretty busy recently, and Elle herself had a lot on her plate. Between her getting sick, and me being bombarded with practices, we hadn't had a lot of time together. I clasped my hands together and nodded for Connor to continue.

"Good," he mumbled, stopping his pacing to stare at me. Con tugged on his dark hair and paused, "When Elle asked you to practice, it wasn't really about practicing, dude. She even said that on the phone! Then you had to go and be a dumbass and tell her you don't need any more practices, but, you know what? That was just a way to spend time together."

I stared at Connor, and blurted out the one thing Elle had said yesterday that seemed good, "She told me bailing was fine!"

"Fine?" Connor said slowly, eyes widening in shock. He waved his hands at me frantically and I slowly leaned further back against the couch, "You dumbass! Do you know what fine means to a girl? Fine means, 'fuck you you asshole, don't talk to me'. That's what fine means!"

I blinked at Connor, not really comprehending what he was saying. I had girlfriends before - hell, I had a mom - and whenever they said fine, I didn't think much of it. I shook my head, lips drawing down into a frown. I remembered when Elle said fine when I told her I had to bail, and she didn't exactly look pleased.

I bit my lip and stood up, wanting nothing more than to sleep until tomorrow, when I had practice. I side-stepped Connor and walked to the hallway, only to turn around when Con called my name and asked where I was going. He didn't look mad or shocked, anymore. He just looked kind of sad and concerned.

"Bed," I muttered, stretching back and cracking my fingers, "if Elle is mad, then she probably needs a day to cool off."

"But I had a whole 'nother fifteen minute speech planned!" Connor cried, and I just laughed walking down the hall, "It's only six! Six!"

"Goodnight!" I called, slamming my door shut. I sighed and flopped down onto the bed, tugging the covers up and over my head. I laid down and wrapped every blanket around me. Pinching my eyes closed, I tried to brush Connor's speech off. Despite assuring myself that everything was okay (I made sure not to think 'fine'), I couldn't help but be a bit nervous.

Practice the next day was hell.

I was dead-tired, half of my shots were easily blocked by the goalie (Edi made an attempt to let some shots go through), and I had been checked into the wall more times than I could count. I had a pounding headache, my body was aching, and I was this close to killing Jay with his stick if he checked me again.

I saw Jay getting ready to check me again (he claimed it was his way to keep me alert), and I skated away from him. I slid forward and cursed, barely catching my balance again. I saw Jay frown through his viser and he skated over to me, a concerned look on his face.

"Are you all right?" he asked, spitting out his mouth-guard and looking at me, brown eyes wide, "You missed, like, every shot. You've kind of been sucking."

I glared at Jay, and he just shot me back a lopsided grin.

Truthfully, I wasn't okay. I had stayed up all night watching dumb romantic movies that had Brad Pitt in them, and thinking over everything Connor had said. I convinced myself he was wrong - that Elle was okay - but a part of me just wasn't sure. What if she was mad? What if fine really was Elle's way of telling me I had messed up?

I sighed and looked around the rink again, but Elle wasn't there. She hadn't shown up to practice, and she hadn't answered my text that morning, either. I tried calling Elle, but her phone was off. I was seconds away from asking Monroe if he knew if what was up.

I turned back to Jay and shook my head. I spit out my mouth guard and bit my lip nervously, "Not really. I think - "

"I'd love to listen," Jay promised, clapping me on the shoulder. I opened my mouth to say something, but he was already slowly starting to skate away, "but Monroe's glaring at you, and I'd rather not die because of association with you. Good luck, man!"

Jay skated away and I turned, cursing when I saw Monroe glaring at me. I skated over to him, the boards and a thin sheet of plastic separating us. Despite the separation, I could still see the intensity in Monroe's eyes. He was clutching his clipboard tightly, and his lips were drawn into a thin, almost invisible, line.

My heart jumped nervously in my chest, and I took a deep breath. I now had two reasons to always be nervous about what Monroe was going to say. One: I was dating his daughter who, at that moment, might have been pissed with me. Two: he was still my coach, which meant he still controlled my fate in the hockey world.

"What are you doing?" Monroe said slowly, and I bit my lip, thinking it might be better not to answer. I was proven right when Monroe went on, "We have a game in two days and you're playing like you're asleep."

"I'm sorry," I mumbled, dropping my head down a bit. I loved hockey, and I was so grateful to play, but I was just off today, "I'm really sorry." I paused, mumbling out the second part, "Bad day."

"I had you as a starter, Scott," Monroe said, and my jaw dropped at that. He had me as a starter? A starter player for the Marlies? "But, if you keep playing like this? You'll be lucky to even get off of the bench."

The fact that Monroe had me as a starter shocked me, but also sent a wave of happiness through me. You had to be really good to make it as a starter, and the fact that I was a new player and a starter was honestly amazing. And then it hit me what he just said: I'll be lucky to even get off the bench if I keep playing like this.

That hurt. It hurt to hear that I was put as a starter, but Monroe had noticed how badly I had been playing. I sighed and ducked my head down again, cheeks flushing in embarrassment. It was then, it hit me, that maybe Connor was right. Maybe Elle was mad, and maybe that's why I was doing so badly.

Maybe, just maybe, I was bit worried deep down. And, maybe, I was also feeling a little guilty because part of me knew one-hundred percent that Connor was so right.

"Don't worry, Coach," I said, looking up and shooting him a forced smile through my visor, "I'm going to fix this. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

Monroe nodded and stepped back, blowing his whistle and signalling the end of practice. I skated off instantly and went to the locker room. I took off my skates in record time, snatched my bag out of my locker, and pulled my phone out. I clicked on Connor's contact, and sent him a quick 'thank you'. I didn't have to explain why I was thanking him; he'd know.

I tugged on a hoodie and jeans, told Jay and Edi I'd see them tomorrow, and tugged on my bag. I sprinted through the stadium, stumbling from tiredness. Monroe shot me an odd look and I just sent him a grin before jogging through the hallway and slipping out the front door.

It had all hit me quickly: last night, Elle had said she didn't care what we did. She said she just wanted to spend time together, and I had, stupidly, told her that I didn't need practices anymore. It didn't mater about practices. It mattered about spending time together. And I might have thought that she was being a little dramatic, but I really cared about Elle. I wasn't going to mess this all up over something stupid.

I walked over to my car and went to unlock it, but stopped when I saw a car parked a feet spaces behind me. It was then I noticed the familiar blonde sitting in the car, the window rolled down.

I quickly opened the door, tossed my bag in, and went to walk over to Elle. I knew she was probably waiting on her dad, so I started jogging over. Elle's eyes widened when she saw me and I gave her a small smile. She shot one back and slouchd down into the seat.

"Hi," I said, awkwardly rocking back-and-forth on my heels, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she said, and I bit my lip because damn it. Things with Elle had never been awkward, and now they were. I opened my mouth to apologize, but she cut me off, "I actually gotta go out with my dad for a few hours, sorry. I'll call you later?"

I turned and saw Monroe walking towards us. I sighed and stuffed my hands in my pockets and nodded at Elle, "Sure. See ya later, babe."

I turned back towards my car and let out a string of curses. I should've apologized; I should've done something other than stand there outside of her car so weirdly. I groaned and slid into the drivers seat, not bothering to turn the car on. I didn't want to go home yet - that would've meant listening to another one of Connor's lectures.

Another groaned escaped my lips and I leaned my head against the steering wheel, taking deep breaths. It was then, it hit me, that I just might have messed up a little worse than I thought, and standing outside her car wasn't going to fix anything.

So, I decided, sitting up in my seat, a plan already forming in my mind, I was going to totally make it up to Elle.