Slapshots {BOYXBOY}✔

Chapter One {Failing}

See, the problem with people is that they don't respect the fact that I, Matthew H Chandlers am now, and always will be the face of Lester B. Manning's High School. And that one day when I join the NHL and become pro. They (Joey Tents) will forever regret telling Coach Alan that I was failing French. A subject that is being taught by Mrs. Tamara. Coaches wife.

So, naturally things weren't on my side at this moment.

"A 30 Chandlers!? A 30? How in Gods name do you think I can keep you on this team if you're flunking French?! You're the captain of this team Matthew, my captain needs to keep his head above water and that means passing all his classes with at least a 65% All the other players on this team can do it son. Why can't you?" Oh, and did I mention that coach Alan was also my dad? Yeah. That's the topper to my cake.

Not only was my dad the school's hockey coach, he was my coach , and it left a bad taste in some of the lower players mouths because some people thought I was only captain because coach was my dad. When really, I was captain because I can kick all their asses on and off the ice.

Coach kept on yelling at me, for at least twenty minutes he spat at me with his garlic breath, smelling just like last night's supper of Spaghetti and garlic toast. "You're on the bench for.. however long it takes to get your grades up."

What? "What? No da- coach! You can't do that. If I don't play Bennington is going to kick our asses and we'll be out of the finals. There's gotta be another way coach come on. Don't do the team like this!"

"I'll cut you a deal. I'll talk to your mother. If she can swing you a tutor in the middle of the year. You can keep playing. But if there's nobody available. You're on the bench until the grades go up."

"That has to be the worst deal in the history of deals! Dad, you can't do this."

"Take the deal, Matthew. Or nothing."

I crossed my arms slouching back in the leather couch that sat on the far wall of my dad's office. I mumbled fine before the coach took all his files and stacked them away, leaving the keys on the desk and telling me to lock up after I was done sulking.

Which I did for about five minutes until the bell signaling lunch was over and that it was now the fourth period.

I reluctantly made my way down the science hall. Stopping only to high five and fist bump other teammates the best part about being a hockey star was that nearly everybody was your friend. I would say, everybody. But there was still two who didn't seem to like me around them.

One of them was Joey, who was on the hockey team with me, and jealous of the fact I was the coach's son. He and I never really liked each other, we'd been in the same school since pre-K and even break than he was a dick head. Always stealing my crayons and being a tattle tail.

Though I was pretty sure the whole school didn't like me, everyone was pretty cool and didn't outright say they hated me.

Expect Joey.

And Henry Oswald. He and I used to be great friends. We grew up a few houses from each other and had been going to the same school since kindergarten. But once we started grade eight he and I went our separate ways. He hasn't outright said he hated me. But I've seen the way he looks at me now. And it wasn't a look of love, let me tell you that.

It sucked though. Henry and I used to be attached at the hip growing up. And to this day I'm still not really sure why we weren't still friends. Well, there was one thing that happened. But it wasn't like it was something to kill a friendship. It was just something that could hurt it, but I had thought Henry and I were closer than that. But I guess we weren't. I mean I got it. He was book smart, I was sport smart. He liked homework, I liked slap shots.

I guess we just grew apart.

I guess things were better off the way they were.