Love and Other Chemistry ♡ Trevor Zegras

1 | Trevor

Part One:
A Little Scholarship

I stared down at the A4 stack of papers in my left hand, my right holding my chin up lazily as I raked my eyes over and over the red outlined grade. D- seemed to be the only grade I was seeing on my exams and essays these days, and I partly had myself to blame, but mostly, it was the various female distractions that glued themselves to my side on the regular.

And who the hell was I to say no to a pretty girl? I may have been getting D's, but I wasn't a complete idiot.

I sighed deeply, pushing my cheek further into my hand, the elbow pressed against the hardwood table beginning to ache. Whatever. It wasn't like I needed to worry about maths and science and literature. As soon as the year was over, I was getting a full scholarship to one of the top schools in the US to study Exercise Science with a major in hockey. Then, with a whole lot of hard work and a bit of luck, I'd be playing for USA by the time i'm twenty one.

Fuck Biology.

Who needs it? Not this guy.

"Zegras," my old, cranky bio teacher snapped, pulling me from my daydream of slapshotting an equally beautiful and powerful puck into the goal of some other country that was no where near the level USA was. I lazily drifted my gaze to hers, raising my eyebrows as if to show that I was at least half listening. "You're needed in the principals office. Take your things with you."

I only nodded in response, gathering my backpack and notebook and stuffing my pen into the front pocket of my bag as I walked carelessly out of the classroom, not really thinking much of being called to the office.

It wasn't uncommon for me to be called out of class to attend to some sport meeting or university arrangement. I was top in my classes last year for quite a few subjects, so scholarships had practically fallen into my lap when I was choosing a school that I wanted to attend. Now, in my final year of high school, I could finally relax on the academics and focus on sport.

By the time I had reached the principals office, the tiniest sliver of dread had wedged itself into the depth of my mind, begging me to give it attention as the worst scenarios played over again and again in my head.

Why was I really being called into the office? Had something happened? Was there a problem with the team? Was it my grades? Was it my attitude towards teachers? Was it how I constantly skipped classes to hook up with girls?

Honesty, It could have been any one of those things, or a combination. The dread began to settle within the pit of my stomach, and I chewed on the inside of my cheek as anxiety coursed through my veins.

I rapped my closed fist against the frosted glass of the principals door, bouncing on the balls of my feet as I shook my hands out beside me, trying to rid myself of the negative tension that had built in my shoulders. It could be anything, there was no guarantee that me being called here was a bad thing. Maybe I was getting another sports award?

The sound of an old mans voice who I recognised as our school principle called a gruff "Come in" before falling silent once more. I scrunched my nose up at the sound of his tone, it didn't exactly sound happy, which was probably my first warning sign that this meeting would be anything but good. Taking a deep, almost determined breath, I braced myself for what I would face on the other side of the door before throwing it open with maybe a little too much haste, causing me to almost stumble through the doors.

The first thing I noticed was that I wasn't going to be alone in the room with the leader of Iona Catholic Secondary School. There, standing right beside his desk with his arms crossed in front of his chest and a sour look on his face was my hockey coach, fully clad in a Iona Ice Hockey tracksuit and a golden whistle around his neck. He looked less than pleased as his eyes fell to mine, and I physically recoiled at the sure knowledge that this meeting was going to be very, very bad.