Shutout | Complete

Chapter 26

The pre-party music blared through the speakers that Easton had set up in the living room. 'Sound check', as Booker liked to call it, vibrated the walls of the Hockey House as I stood in the kitchen, helping set up stacks of solo cups on the island. We had a final game scheduled for the upcoming week. It was the last game before the selection process for the Frozen Four. I should have been ecstatic that we even had a foot in the door considering how poor our–my–performance was the first half of the season. But there wasn't much of anything that brightened my dampened mood.

I glanced down at my phone again, hoping for a notification. Instead, I was met with my screensaver. It was a picture I had taken last summer on my parent's ranch. The once rich sunset seemed much duller when I considered how unfortunate that the symbolism reflected the current season of my life. Everything I had worked for–enjoyed over the last four years–was coming to an end. In a few more weeks I would be a Fenton graduate and on the road back to Texas. The rest of the boys would be going off, doing their own thing. Some, like McKinley, were headed to the NFL, others staying behind to continue the Falcon legacy. There was a lot I was looking forward to, but there was a hell of a lot more that I was going to miss.

My good luck charm being one of them.

"Hey, man, you good?" Booker asked, noticing that I had climbed into my own head. He set a couple more bottles down on the counter with a clang.

"Yeah," I replied, forcing a smile even though my insides were twisted into knots. "Just nervous for the last game of the season, that's all."

Booker's eyes lit up in understanding. His hand met my shoulder. "Don't even sweat it brother. We got this, we always do." Picking the bottles back up he headed towards the back porch where we had been stashing the rest of the drinks for the night. The temperature, while warming, was still cool enough to take advantage of using the outdoors as a second fridge.

"Is Ella swinging by tonight?" Booker called over his shoulder.

"Uh..." I started as he slid the backdoor open. "I think she has plans already with Olivia."

Booker made a noise to express his disappointment towards the new information.

I'm right there with ya, bud.

I stuffed my phone back into my pocket, realizing the person I wanted to talk to the most probably wasn't going to answer me. Ever since she had stopped by the community center, Ella had been avoiding me like the plague. I couldn't figure out why. It gnawed at me, her cold shoulder leaving me second guessing everything I said that morning. Besides acting a bit off, I had dropped her off at her car thinking that we had patched over the awkwardness from that weekend.

When the discomfort wrapped around my chest again I ran a hand through my hair. I remember her saying that she was dealing with something--that the way she was acting around me wasn't a direct reflection of the shift that was going on between us. I didn't believe her. There was something within me that said she was omitting the truth. I gave her space regardless.

Just as I was about to help Booker bring in more beer from the garage, the front door burst open. A couple of girls I recognized from one of the sororities sauntered in like they owned the place, each holding a tray full of little red shot glasses. Their laughter cut through the music, drawing everyone's attention.

"Hey Bookie!" The blonde waved, sliding the tray down on the island. "Candice and I thought we'd bring over some Jell-o shots for your party tonight."

Booker peered up from where he was hunched over the ever growing pile of alcohol on the back porch. He offered both of them a polite smile. "Thanks Blair."