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W ith Brady flat at my feet like a defeated humiliated pile of muscle, I realize we lost the girls. It might have been when Brady and I were trying to suffocate each other, not sure.

Perhaps I went a little overboard in my attempts to gate- keep and cock block but it is in everyone’s best interest for me to do so. Brady thinks Lotte is cute. He thinks Quinn is hot and she most definitely felt the same. Her tongue almost rolled from her mouth when we walked in.

Brady and Quinn is a bad idea. Brady and Lotte is the WORST idea in the history of ideas. I would rather dig my eyes out with a spoon, cover them in peanut butter and eat them, and I really hate peanut butter.

I have no right to feel this way. It was me who told her we can only be friends, but that doesn’t mean I want her hooking up with my friends … Or anyone for that matter.

“Dude, get up.” I give him a light kick, “You can openly cry now. The girls are gone.”

“What? They missed me kicking your ass?”

Laughter tumbles from me as I reach out and help Brady from the ground. “You’re constantly bragging about how you Aussies are the best football tacklers in the world, yet I, a man who has never played the game in his life, whipped you.”

Standing and dusting himself off, Brady shrugs, “Hitting the ground like a sack of shit was a tactical move. We call it the Thunder from Down Under.”

That name rings a bell, “Hey, isn’t that the name of a male stripper group?”

Brady freezes as his cheek’s flush red, “How the fuck do you know that?”

“I have a sister, remember?”

“Ahh, a gay sister.”

“Yeah, well she went through a discovering herself phase, and the bronzed beefcakes helped her realize men were not for her. And I discovered how much my Mom loved them.” I shiver, and Brady loses it.

“That’s brutal, man. But if it makes you feel any better, we’ve watched them at my place too … um I mean, Mum watched. I didn’t have to watch her watch them, though.”

Right.

An unreasonable amount of time is spent discussing stripper workout and diet plans when a familiar albino blond head slinks by and eyes us with disdain and my hands clench at my side.

“Look,” I nod to our left, “It’s that fucker Carole. I should say something.” In an impressive show of his goalie reflexes, Brady lunges and pins me against the wall, and this time, I can’t fight him. No matter how strong I am, he’s just too big. His strong-arm tactics are noticed by Carole who stops and scoffs.

“Aren’t you boys on the wrong side of campus? The zoo is over yonder.” He points and wanders off, and I want to break him like a twig.

“Don’t say anything, mate,” Brady warns, “He’s not worth it. Think of the team. What did Coach tell you?”

“He told me he’d handle it, but …”

“So let him handle it.”

Coursing with pent up energy and unbridled rage, I turn on my friend. “And what are you trying to handle, mate ? Don’t think I missed you making eyes at my Lotte … I mean at Lotte.”

Brady grunts and knees me in the gut, but says nothing till he’s sure Carole is gone, then he lets me have it. “I know you’re pissed right now, but hear this. One. I know Quinn is off limits. I’m not stupid enough to mess with Coach’s daughter no matter how hot she is, so chill. Two, I’m not interested in Lotte. Sure, she might become a friend, but she would be just a friend, and unlike you, when I say that, I mean it.” He gives me one last shove then stomps away, right hand fidgeting in pocket. “I’m going to class. Don’t come with me.”

“Brades.” I call after him but he’s off in a huff and I don’t blame him. I kind of want to punch me in the face, too.

Sometimes I don’t know why I do what I do.

People can say whatever they want about sportsmen and women being paid too much for what they do, actually you know what, let’s just make that sportsmen . Women in sport get shit. But back to the point. Criticize salaries, but never the dedication required to make it to the top. Six am and four pm training five days a week. Extra cardio and weights sessions. Travel. Games. Weekend recovery. Watching your diet. It’s a lot.

I love it. But it’s a lot. Especially when you got shit on your mind, and I am knee deep in crapulence, racking up worries like I rack up points.

Tension is high on the team.

Claire is still pissed with me for the accidental Lotte groping and drooling she keeps catching me in the midst of.

Kelly, well, as per usual Kelly is awesome.

And Lotte seems to be avoiding me. I stole her number, and photo, from Claire’s phone and text bombed her for more ice time, but she has ignored them all. I’m pretty sure she hides behind bushes when she sees me coming on campus, too. Despite her valiant attempts to disappear, the girl I’d never laid eyes upon on is everywhere; in the quad, the library, the cafeteria, you name it, she’s there.

Even at home.

In what I’m sure has been a test of my character, Claire and Kelly have invited her over for dinner the last few nights. Each evening I’ve opened the front door to find her standing in the porch light, wearing thick black rimmed glasses - kill me now - her golden hair twisted into braids, and due to our suddenly cooler weather, thick knee high socks have been dug out of her drawers and worn beneath her always cute little skirts.

She looks so hot. So. So hot. Like a sexy, naughty librarian from every bookish wet dream I will have from here on in. And whether she knows it or not, the girl is so God damn funny. I’ve sat in my room with the door open, listening to the three of them as they sit on the sofa watching the Bachelor, picking the women apart like hungry vultures. Her timing and wit is spot on.

Why does she have to be so perfect?

Why can’t I get her out of my head?

I’m on the ice right now. Bodies attached to knife-like blades are whizzing past me. Whistles are blowing. I need to focus. Stop constantly springing boners while thinking of a girl I can’t have.

Tonight is our first game of the season, and for us at the Bear's, the first night is Family Night - the first I’ll be playing without Mom. I’ve got first game nerves that could take down a rhino, I’m missing Mom so hard my chest hurts, and I’m worried Claire is going to boycott my game in protest. It’s too much. Which brings me back to my original point … why do I do this?

One person I am glad isn’t going to be there, Donnelly. He’s wisely steered clear of me for most of this afternoon’s practice - the one Coach allowed him to participate in as a way to add further physical punishment - but he’s skating towards me now as we run some defensive drills, and it’s not happiness that I see on his face.

“You and your little freak are going to pay for this, Petterson.” Rank breath and spite hits me before his body slams me into the boards, checking me again when I’m still off balance. His gloves are off a second later, and I’m just about to lose mine when Coach Dale slides between us.

“Donnelly, off the ice now.”

“What the fuck?” Spitting and frothing at the mouth, Ryan’s hateful venom is redirected to Dale. He’s right in his face, hands reaching for his practice jersey. “I didn’t do anything. Boy Fucking Wonder threw himself at me.” As bodies come flying in from all directions, I’m pushed out of the way by Brady, who repeats his actions of two days ago and holds me against the boards to stop me doing something stupid.

Coach is livid. So livid he loses his freaking mind and sends us all off to the showers, “I will vomit blood, and my brain will spontaneously implode on this ice if I have to look at one of you idiots again before the game. Get the fuck out of here and come back tonight as the team I know.”

The unnecessary, but humorous gruesomeness isn’t enough to lift spirits. The locker room mood is the lowest I’ve known since I’ve been a Bear. Donnelly’s buddies sit on one side, chirping loudly, while the good and noble among us pretend we don’t hear them.

This whole sorry afternoon serves as yet another reminder of why Little D and me are a bad idea.

No one is home when I arrive for a quick dinner before the game. Claire may not be speaking to me, but she’s still made me my favorite pregame carb fix, chicken broccoli pasta bake and left a note.

Kel’s had to fly to Georgia to see her Mom. Taken her to airport. I’m still mad, but will be back in time for the game. See you there. Don’t suck. PS. Did I mention I am still mad. PPS. Go Bears.

This game is going to be as hard for Claire as it is for me, and now Kelly won’t be there? Claire and Mom spent hours together cheering me on. The thought of her doing it alone adds further salt to the wound of this shitty day. It’s not right. I have to do something, so I grab my phone to do just that.

“Baby bro. You, okay?”

“I am yeah, are you? Is Kel’s mum?”

“Yes, and she will be. She had a fall, broke her wrist and dislocated her shoulder on the other arm. Her dad is in Europe so he can’t get home for a couple of days. make sure she is okay, then come home once she’s comfortable her dad can manage.”

“So, she’s going to fuss over them and be gone a month?”

Claire huffs a laugh, it’s a nervous one but I take it onboard as it’s the first aimed at me in days “Most likely, yes.”

“Sis, if you want to sit this game out, I’ll understand. I know how hard watching alone is going to be for you.”

“And I know how hard playing without her watching is going to be. I’m coming to see my baby bro play and I’m going to cheer him on as loudly and as embarrassingly as ever. Okay, Dweeb?

The swell of emotion is swallowed down before I reply. “Okay, Dork … And Claire, before you go.”

“Hurry up, man. You’re taking up valuable make out with the hot wife time.”

“Ahh, yeah, thanks for that. What I was going to say before you grossed me out is—”

“Hey, you have no right to say that after what we walked in on the other day.” My mind flashes back to me jerking off over Lotte then waking with her face hovering above me.

“Fuck, Claire. What are you bringing that up for? I’m trying to say something nice here.” I take a deep breath and try again “What I was going to say is, thanks for being everything I’ve needed since we lost Mom. I don’t know how I would have gotten through without you.”

Apart from what I think is a little sniffle, she’s silent for a beat, then, “Same, little bro. Same.”