Penalty Shot

5

Mondays are always a drag, from every high school kid in America to a vaguely fruity British hockey player, nobody enjoys getting out of bed early to go to classes. But hey, George enjoys his morning run, so at least he's starting his morning off nicely.

Even if nicely means a jog to the bakery, then back home, then to the hockey arena. In the middle of November in the cold.

George was the first to arrive for practice, save for his coach opening up the arena.  That of course ment that he could wallow in self pity in the locker room for a good five minutes before the rest of his team showed up.  George was just finished tying up his skates when his teammates started filing in.

None of his mates paid him much attention, they all knew that George never socialized and that his best friend was probably his hockey stick.  Which wasn't true, his best friend was most definitely Alex, even if George wasn't Alex's best friend... it didn't matter anyways. Most of those guy's best friend was their right hand.

George was first on the ice, skating in a few laps before the rest of the team joined him on the ice. It was just the same old passing and shooting drills, paired with some speed skating and agility. They had their first game agains the Eagles Friday night, they had to be on top of their game.

Practice seemed to be over in the blink of an eye as George settled into his computer science class next to his friend Charlie.

Him and Charlie went way back, I mean, it was Charlie that helped him choose to go to this University, with its great hockey program and great computer classes.  George actually shared a dorm with Charlie for the first few years of University before George moved in with Karl and Alex.

He had short dark brown hair and green eyes.  His glasses sat high on his nose and he looked like a very average nerd, the type you would exactly expect to be getting a computer science degree.  George is vaguely sure that he has made out with Charlie at a party, but he never thought to ask.

George took all morning classes, therefore his afternoons were always open, and that led to the same place, the arena.  George would lace up a pair of his skates and just... skate.  Often enough the owners would let him play his own music because he was in there alone, sometimes running drills, sometimes just skating in circles, depending on the night before.  George may not show emotion through words but his skating tells the story of him more than any words could ever do.

Body language is often referred to as a universal language for that reason.  For the reason that it doesn't matter when you speak, the language you tell with your body gives off tone and meaning to the words spoken from your mouth.  Like the phrase "a picture paints a thousand words" describes, art and visualization means so much more than spoken language.  Although that might vary depending on certain aspects such as those ability to see. 

The song changes and George moves from skating fast to an idle skate.  A gentle glide against the cool surface. Almost a graceful as a figure skater, well, as graceful as you can be in hockey skates.

During these afternoon sessions George did not wear any gear, preferring the chill of the rink air over his bulky pads. Besides, he didn't usually share the rink with anyone aside from the occasional kids with their parents, or a private skating lesson. Everyone minded their own business. It was great!

The clock ticked to 4pm as George stepped off of the ice and into the locker room. He breathed the fresh air as he walked back home. It was not snowing, lucky for him, so his walk home was pretty alright.

None of his roommates were back by the time he unlocked the door and walked in. Instead of being greeted by the shouting of his friends he was greeted by darkness and silence. He lay across his bed in the basement and pulled out his phone, opening instagram. Clay had not messaged him but George did feel a little bad for leaving him on read so he decides to message first for once.

George: Hi

Clay responds before George could even process that he had sent the text.

Clay: You excited for the game on Friday?

George: Hell no

Clay: Afraid you're going to lose

George: Afraid we're going to sweep and the most hyped up game so far this season was just a waste of time

Clay: I can tell you are a very positive person on the inside
Clay: But I hope you know that even if you do sweep our team will put up a hell of a fight.

George: Good to know at least one team cares about hockey

Great, now George was left on read, it was deserved though so he didn't care.  Now Clay could be the one feeling bad about leaving him on read.  He decides to post a picture of his pile of homework on his story, not really feeling up to actually doing it, but you've got to keep up appearances, so to the world, he actually cares about doing his work.

He hears the familiar sound of Alex getting home and so he makes his way up the stairs to greet him and help him make dinner, granted, dinner was just sandwiches, it did take a lot of preparation.  Especially for 3 grown men and their love of cold deli ham and white bread.  Not much is said between Alex and George.  Karl always initiates conversation, George and Alex did not click without Karl there.

"I texted Clay,"  George said, breaking the silence between them.

"That actually surprises me," Alex responds.  "I didn't think you had the balls to.  Do tell me what your conversation was about?"

"It was just a couple chirps about the game our teams have against each other on Friday," George says, plating the sandwiches and bringing them over to the table as Alex digs through the fridge for drinks.

"Well if Clay is going I'm going," Alex giggles as Karl walks in and the three of them sit at the table together and go in on the sandwiches.

"What's this about then?" Karl asks.

"George's new boyfriend," Alex says teasing George.  George rolls his eyes.

"He's not my boyfriend," He quips back.  "We're not even friends."

"You could fix that," Karl laughs.  George groans.

"I'm going to the gym," George said, absolutely through with his roommates constant teasing about him and Clay's non existent relationship.

"SEND SOME SHIRTLESS PICS TO CLAY WHILE YOU ARE THERE!" is the last thing George hears as he leaves the house and walks the fifteen minutes to the gym.