His two-toned eyes look up at me over the paper with araised brow, insinuating something. Now I’m certain that even through all my glaring and clipped comebacks, I haven’t been slick with my secret glances.
“And then decide who will be the interviewer and who will be the interviewee for the first round. Conduct the interview, taking notes or recording the session. Switch roles and repeat the interview process. After completing both interviews, take some time individually to reflect on your experiences, and consider the following questions for your reflection.”
I nod my head. “Seems simple enough.”
“You will have two weeks to get through the questions and write up a paper. The paper should focus on the parts we enjoyed, found most challenging, and the things we learned through the answers to our partner’s questions,” he reads.
“Two weeks seems like a lot of time. How many questions are there? Could we just bang them out real quick?”
He flips through the packet. “Unlikely.” He turns the last page to me.
I slam my open palms to the table, leaning over it. “Two hundred questions?!”
“Looks like we’re going to be real friends after all.” He smiles before wrapping his hand around the top of his plastic cup, and brings the straw to his lips.
I sit back in my seat as he extends his hand across the table. “Hand me your phone.”
“What?” I feel my cheeks flame. “Why?”
“So I can give you my number.” His brows furrow in the middle. “You got something in there you don’t want me to see?”
Only the text to my best friend where I was sexualizing your arms.
“Okay, here.” He pulls out his own phone when I don’t answer. “What’s your number?”
I rattle off the numbers and a second later, my phone isbuzzing between my legs.Oh god.I jerk at the vibration and silence it immediately, but I know my cheeks have already betrayed me.
“There. Now we can get a hold of each other.”
“Perfect.” I force a smile.
9
noah
Coach Alvarez thoughthe was doing me a favor by banning my dad from practices. He isn’t well-versed in the lengths Joshua Kingston will go to, to ensure that I’m the best player on the ice. I’d like to say this obsession is a new thing, since the draft, but it’s not. My entire life has been a wooden sign, but instead of ‘Live, Laugh, Love’ it says ‘Eat, Sleep, Hockey’. The motto is ingrained in my blood, courtesy of the man currently standing on the sidelines. I don’t blame him for pushing me hard. I’m not an idiot, I know I wouldn’t be anywhere near the athlete I am today if it weren’t for him.
Talent is one thing, but it’s not getting you signed by the NHL. You have to have the discipline and be willing to do what others aren’t in order to get there. And even then, your time there isn’t secure.
My lungs are on fire as I skate up and down the rink, through the cones, handling the puck. I take a second to look up at the clock.
Shit.
Since my dad got banned from attending practices, he’s taken it upon himself to rent out a rink on the outskirts of town so he can continue to oversee mytraining. I knew there was no denying him, but now I’m thirty minutes away from campus, and I’m supposed to meet Savannah for our first session in twenty.
“Again!” My dad’s booming voice cuts through my thoughts, and only now do I realize I lost control of the puck.
I dig the edge of my skate into the ice, coming to a stop. “Dad, I’ve got to get going soon.”
“For what?” He yells back.
I scratch the back of my head, knowing that there isn’t anything more important than this in his eyes. That’s where we differ. While the NHL is and always has been the end goal, my plans have always included finishing my four years with a degree, too. I’ve seen how quickly this sport can be taken away from you, and my dad, of all people, should understand that.
“I uh… I’ve got a class project I’m working on.”
“Work on it later.”
I try not to groan. “It’s with a partner, Dad. I’m supposed to meet her in less than twenty minutes.”
