meant to be • adam banks

chapter eight

adam

Being committed feels so different.

It's definitely a good kind of different, but it's still different nonetheless.

Don't get me wrong, I'm thrilled to finally be where I am now. If anything, this process has made me gain more confidence in myself than I've ever had. I'm not only proving to my family and the people watching me that I deserve everything I've worked for, I'm proving it to myself too.

I take the light blue button-down that's sitting on my dresser and unfold it, putting my left arm into its corresponding sleeve. As I'm putting my right arm into the shirt, I hear laughing coming from behind me. I turn around to see Charlie, who's shaking his head while he stares at me with his arms crossed. "What?"

"Dude." he exclaims, with something that sounds like a hint of disbelief in his voice. "Your back muscles are fucking crazy."

I snort at him and roll my eyes, turning my attention to the buttons on my shirt. "I mean I play hockey seven days a week and work out every single day on top of that, so I think it should speak for itself."

"And so humble too." Charlie mocks sarcastically. "I really don't know why you don't walk around with your shirt off twenty-four seven. If I were you, I would be flaunting that more often."

"Then why don't you?" I question, grabbing the suit jacket from my chair and throwing it on. "You're jacked too. It's not like you're lacking in the muscles department or anything, so why don't you just do it instead?"

Charlie shrugs. "I don't know, I've never thought of that before. I'm definitely going to do it now. Thanks Banskie! You're a great friend."

He turns around and walks away, allowing me to breathe out a sigh of relief. I don't know what the hell that was, because he's not normally that air-headed. Maybe he's still a bit out of it after the hit Dean laid on him yesterday at practice, which really isn't good if it's true. We need our captain, especially for our first game.

An uneasy feeling settles in my stomach, so I decide to go check on him. I find him standing in the doorway of the bathroom, eyes squeezed shut. "Yo, you alright Conway?"

"Yeah." he replies shakily, opening his eyes and blinking them a few times before he seems to adjust. "The light is just really bright and it bothered me for a second."

Uh oh.

"Maybe you should stop by Tavia's at some point today, just as a precaution." I suggest, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder."

"I don't have a fucking concussion Banksie." he spits out as he turns around and looks at me, almost as if the word is evil. "I can't have one. Dean didn't even hit me that hard."

I put my hands in the air and take a few steps back, shrugging slightly. "Whatever you say, captain. Just looking out for you."

I'm not in the mood to deal with Charlie anymore, so I grab my bags and head for the door. On my way out, I notice that Guy is still sound asleep. I stop in my tracks and walk over to him, then yank his blanket off and give him a hard shake. "Wake up, asshole. Class starts in fifteen."

"For the love of God, neither of you fuckers ever let me sleep." Guy complains as he sits up and reaches for the shirt on his nightstand. "All I ask is for you and Asshole Number Two to let me sleep in for once in my freakin' life."

"It's like you forget that school exists." I respond with a laugh. "You know, the place where if you're late you get marked tardy? And if you have too many of them, your spot on the team could be in jeopardy?"