“I’ll see you guys at practice. I’ve got to grab one more book.” Silas lifts his fist and I tap my own against his.
“Come on, ya big baby.” I grab Maverick by the back of his neck and he must be dog-tired because he doesn’t bother trying to fight me off.
A class before nine has never been in the cards for me, so I’m taken aback by how packed the campus coffee shop is. Maverick’s head falls to the side as we wait in a line about five people deep.
A guy with a recognizable face, shaggy black hair and wire-thin, black glasses smiles at us when it’s our turn.
“Good morning, what can I get started for you today?” His voice is much too chipper for this hour.
“Who are you?” Mav blurts out.
“Chill.” I shove him and he drops his chin to his hand and an elbow on the counter. “Two Americanos please.”
Maverick stays staring at the kid the same way he does when he’s about to pancake someone into the boards.
“So where’s uh…” I scratch my eyebrow with the back of my finger pretending to think of the old barista’s name.
“The hottie in the yoga pants.” Maverick huffs, getting to the point.
“I— I’m not sure. I’m new.” He quickly taps his screen and marks our cups. “Well, not new to the school, new toThe Den.There’s a lot of new people here this semester, actually. Most of the staff last year were seniors and well, graduation andwhatnot.” He shakes his head and shrugs his shoulders as he rambles.
“Right. That makes sense.” I smile, handing him my card.
“Awesome.” I don’t miss the sarcasm in Mav’s voice and I shove him again. This time he takes the hint and trudges off, plopping down on an open leather couch.
“Ignore him. He’s not really a morning person,” I say, offering him an apologetic smile.
“That’s alright.” He smiles, handing my card back to me. “Your order will be up in a minute.”
“Thank you.” I look through all the pins on his shirt, searching for his name tag.
“It’s Peter.”
“Peter! Nice to meet you, I’m Noah.”
“I know.”
I cock my head but realization sets in. At this point, I should be used to it. When you’re named the youngest-ever MVP freshman year and you follow that up by becoming the youngest captain that Linden Creek University has ever had… Yeah, people know my name. The real reason everyone on campus knows who I am though, is because six months ago the thing that every hockey player dreams of, and spends their entire life working for, happened to me. On Friday, June 28th, at four p.m, I was drafted by the Toronto Titans.
All that’s left for me to do is to solidify my coach’s faith in me by bringing my team to the championships this year. That, and make sure Toronto doesn’t have a chance to regret their choice before I sign my contract.
I drop a Lincoln in the tip jar before joining my sleeping friend, who is slumped on the leather couch with his arms crossed over his gray sweatshirt and black puffer vest.
I step over his sprawled-out legs, waking him as I drop down beside him. “You’re going to have to figure something out, bud. How are you planning on making it through the day and to practice later?”
“Oh, I’m not,” he says, pulling his hat off and running a hand over his buzzed hair. “I only have one class this morning, then I’m going back home and sleeping until practice.”
“Hey! That’s a great way to get on a sleep schedule.” I smile, giving him a sarcastic thumbs-up.
“Sleep schedule? Who are you? My grandma?”
“Noah!”
I look up in time to see Peter placing our drinks on the counter.
“Let’s roll.” I get up and Maverick drags his feet behind me.
“Thanks, Peter!” I call over my shoulder and notice the few heads that turn in his direction.
