Shutout | Complete

Chapter 22

The Hockey House was never quiet. It was also unheard of for any one of us to be home alone. If we weren't in class, we were at hockey together, and if we weren't all out of the house for a night out, we were hosting one of Booker's unhinged parties. But for once, since I moved in, I was on my own--seeping in the unwelcome silence.

The rest of my housemates had left in the early hours of the morning to catch the team bus. They were heading to an out of state game and would be gone the whole weekend. As I stared up at the popcorn ceiling, I damned the Brite forward that bulldozed into me over a week ago. A short trip to the clinic and they were able to confirm what I already knew--I had a minor concussion. I was on a strict regimen of bed rest and little to no light until further notice.

Before the boys had left, Easton had made sure to pull down every single blind in the house, cloaking me in darkness. Everything moved even slower when you couldn't tell what time of day it was.

I sunk deeper into the broken-in cushions of the living room couch. Boredom gnawed at me. The playlist I had been playing since the rest of the guys left this morning was on its third play through. I dragged in a breath. I was slowly going insane.

Even since I was a young kid, I had a hard time sitting still. That was the main reason I found my way into hockey. It wasn't a sport my family prided themselves in or watched religiously on TV every Sunday. No one else even played in it growing up. But my parents were desperate for something to help burn the energy that had me digging holes in the backyard with the family dog. Hockey became that outlet for me. And I hadn't looked back since.

A knock came from the front of the house, the door knob clicking before I could even sit straight up.

"Knock, knock," Ella's voice fluttered through the foyer. "Mind if I join you in your wallowing?"

A smile broke out across my face. This was the first taste of human interaction I had gotten all day and I was more than happy that it was Ella. I stepped into the hall the moment she shut the door. The final rays from the day's end filtered through the frosted glass on either side. Easton had offered to cover them in old essays, but I shot him down. Even a glimpse of the outside world was better than nothing.

"Are you sure you want to spend your day sitting in a dark room?"

"Do you think I'm going to let you do that all on your own?" She sauntered in, carrying an overnight bag that made me wonder how long she planned on staying. A flicker of hope flared up at the notion of her staying the whole weekend. "I don't think your golden-retriever-self could handle it."

My eyebrow pitched. "Golden retriever?"

Ella came to a halt a foot to two in front of me. "That's how you'd be categorized in the book world." She reached out, patting me on the head to annunciate her point. "I mean, look how quickly you ran to the door to greet me."

I didn't have a chance to pick my jaw off of the floor. She moved around me, heading deeper into the living room and placing her bag down by the ottoman.

"What have you been doing all day?" Ella said, taking note of the half eaten bag of pretzels I'd left on the couch.

My clammy palm met the back of my neck. "Not much. Most things are currently off-limits."

"Why don't we start by getting you a well-balanced meal in your system?" It wasn't a question. Ella tugged her phone out of her jacket pocket. "What do you feel like? Actually, wait, I know exactly what you need. How do you feel about sushi?"

"I've never had it," I admitted.

Ella's hazel eyes peered at me through the dimly lit room. "You've never had sushi?"