XV

Shorty update

The National - Start a War

“Shiiiit.” I totally hadn’t realised he was in the bathroom. Topless. I pried my eyes away from his muscular back and began backing out of the door. Stupid boy with his stupidly toned physique and his stupid good looks.

“Alice,” he turned around, razor in one hand, half of his face still covered in foam. I stopped and looked back, forcing myself to focus on the part above those shoulders. Eye contact. Why was he shaving topless in an unlocked bathroom? Couldn’t he at least lock the door or put a shirt. His chest was distracting enough as it is.

“I managed to do my math by myself. So you have to come to a game,” he said.

“No I don’t,” I said.

“A bet’s a bet.”

I like to think I’m pretty honest and will keep my word but I think under the circumstances I could be excused. It was a stupid bet made way back in September to encourage Jordan to focus on his calculus and do his work. Clearly it worked but I never had any intention in going to a hockey match.

“Too bad the bet expired in 2005.”

“Bets don’t expire,” he grinned. “And you promised you would go. You’re coming tomorrow.”

“That promise was made to be broken,” I said and left. The sight of him topless was making it hard for me to form a sentence. His body was even more impressive than Austin’s and I needed to exercise some self restraint. Particularly when Jordan wasn’t in my good books.




How do I convince you?XX

I ignored the text. If he wanted to speak to me, he could pluck up the courage and walk all of the ten metres between his bedroom door and mine. Sending me a text because he couldn’t ask the question himself was both cowardly and infantile; neither were attractive qualities.

About twenty minutes later, there was a gentle tap on my door. I didn’t even reply when the door was pushed open and he swanned in, taking a seat on my bed and sitting there.

“What?” I swivelled round on my desk chair to look at him. At least he had put a top on; no distractions there please.

“Since when did you become no fun, Pelino?”

I resent that. “What?” I narrowed my eyes at him. No one apart from Brady or Austin ever called me by my surname and I’m not sure I like him using it.

“The fun Pelino would go to a hockey match, skipped first period with me this morning and never ever wig out on a bet.” I knew his game. Like I’ve said before, I’m no fool and his game plan was too obvious and transparent as hell.

“Don’t try to guilt trip me Staal,” I said turning back to my work.

“You’re all work work work. Where’s the fun, playful side gone?” he threw a cushion from my bed at the back of my head.

“I have exams and essays and I want to get into a decent college so I can get out of here,” I said studying the case study in the text book in front of me. “Not all of us have their future planned out already.”

It was no secret that Dad had been in talks with NHL scouts about Jordan. Dad was constantly on the phone to people about him, sorting out press deals and media training for him as well as extra practices and drills for him. Most people at school knew that Jordan was likely to be in the top five for the draft and as a result, he was receiving a lot of attention.

“Yeahhh. It’s not normal. I mean obviously you should work hard so you can achieve all of that. And I have to work hard at hockey and school so I can finish school and then go pro.”

He only had to finish high school, he didn't even need a particularly good mark to go pro - he just had to graduate. It kind of infuriated me with his laissez-faire attitude whilst I was working my butt off to get the best grades possible.

"Jordan, I'm trying to work, so maybe we can talk later?" I said not taking my eyes off the paper in front of me. I heard the bed creak as he moved off and quietly left my room.

Sighing loudly I reread the question. How was it that I could barely think straight when he was around me?

__________________________________________________________________________________________________


"So Alice is coming to the match tomorrow," Jordan said over dinner. Bastard. He smirked across the table at me, daring me to contradict him. That 'what you gonna do about it look' firmly stamped into his grin.

Both my mom and dad turned to look at me; Dad's fork hovering halfway between his open mouth and the plate. "You are kiddo? That's great!" He positively beamed at me. Mom looked a little confused, then puzzled, before looking back at Jordan.

"But you don't like hockey?" she finally said.

"Well, we made a bet, and she lost." Thanks a fucking bunch Jordan. Personally, I cannot WAIT until you get drafted.

"And because she lost she has to go to a match?" she asked, putting the pieces together. Jordan nodded whilst my Dad let out a bellyaching guffaw. He started shaking his head, finally closing his mouth as he put the fork down and holding his gut.

"Well, it should be an interesting match against Kitchener," Dad said before turning to Jordan and discussing various tactics they would employ for tomorrow's game. Mom turned back to me, looking quizzical, giving me the once over in case there was something she was missing.

"Make sure you wrap up warm tomorrow, the arena isn't known for its heating," she said as she poured herself another glass of wine.

I nodded. There was no way I was going on my own - assuming I couldn't get out of it. Who wants to sit through the most boring game by themselves? Nat was going to come with me at the very least, if not Lizzie and Jess too. I needed someone with fake ID because I'd need a drink to get through it.

"Well, that's wonderful sweetie, I hope you have a lovely time," Mom said as she began to clear the plates away. I helped load the dishwasher, taking my time so Jordan wouldn't make some snide comment about tomorrow night.

As I made my way upstairs to my room, his door was open. I knocked lightly on the door. "Why did you do that?" I asked, standing in the doorway. He grinned at me before shrugging.

"Thought it would be fun. Want one of my jerseys to wear tomorrow night?" That boy has got some nerve.