U of M Series: The Chemistry Poet

Chapter 3- Sawyer

Putting on my skates, I pull the strings as tight as they will go, and the familiar excitement of the start of a new season rolls through me. So far, all we've done this year is conditioning. Today is the first scrimmage and my first day on the ice as team captain.

Gliding on the smooth ice, I warm up my muscles by taking some laps. It feels so good to be out here again. I roll my shoulders and stretch my arms a bit, getting comfortable. Luckily I had an extra practice jersey in my locker since I'd given my other one away to Piper.

Kitty. She is tough to read. I did get one message loud and clear—she has a low opinion of me. I can't say I blame her after almost running her over, but I did try to make it better. I would have brushed it all off but of course she's my damn lab partner.

Might be my luck. I've heard of the one chemistry chick. Apparently she's a chem genius. I've seen her at the library studying with the Zetas. Makes sense, they're the down to earth ones who seem to have a brain. I can deal with her attitude if it helps me pass. Besides, she not terrible to look at. In fact quite the opposite.

When I saw her with her white shirt drenched and see through with coffee, god damn. I took in her perfectly round tits standing at attention in a light blue lace bra. I'd nearly gotten out of my Wrangler to have my way with her right there on the hood of her Toyota. Her long black hair was down in waves around her shoulders and it brought out her strange bright green eyes. Sexy as hell. 

But then I'd remembered Jessica sitting next to me. My latest tryst the past two weeks. To say the least, she was very confused when I dropped her off in front of her dorm building and told her we were done fooling around. I didn't end things because of Piper.

Piper had just been a reminder I wasn't really interested in Jessica. Better to end it now instead of string her along.

I didn't think I'd be spending the next year in close proximity with Piper. Hell, I should have passed this chemistry class last year. I would have if everything with my mom and my sister hadn't happened. I didn't have my head in the game, to use Piper's turn of phrase. My dad's pressure to be the hockey MVP and get into John Hopkin's med school like he did was too much on top of it all.

Warmed up, I take a deep inhale and grab my stick. I start shooting pucks to the net. Every slap of a puck pushes unwanted thoughts out of my head. 

Our team looks better than ever, I'll get into med school, and I'll have a good senior year. This is my year.

Our team breaks up into offense and defense. Quinton, our goalie digs his groves into the crease of the net preparing for battle. He's a hybrid goalie and damn good as a result. It makes it hard to get a puck past him, but I will.

The puck drops and I win it, passing it to Maverick, the assistant captain. He seamlessly skates around an offensive man checking him before sending the puck back to me. I shoot the puck behind me where Trudeau catches it just as I'm checked hard against the boards. Outskating the guy tagging me, I get in position before the net. Trudeau is playing cat and mouse behind the net, he feigns left but really goes right before passing me the puck. The defense doesn't catch the trick quick enough and they leave the goalie unprotected. I aim and shoot. 

Goal! Fuck yeah. First one of the season and it feels damn good.

After practice, I head home and shower there. The house is still empty a half hour after practice ends. A rarity since I live with five of my teammates. I message group text chain asking where everyone is and I layout on the couch. I put on a rerun of Game of Thrones.

I think over Piper's words earlier. Toxic masculinity? Really? Sure, I play up a certain persona and my ego a tad, but she doesn't know me. We've never talked before today. I'm not some machismo jock. I have a brain and feelings. In fact, if she actually knew the truth about me, she'd see I am the exact opposite of the stereotype box she placed me in.

Embarrassingly, I love all the romance shit I'm not supposed to. I secretly like all the chick flicks and Nicolas Sparks novels. Sometimes I even think I want to write a romance novel one day. I even have a journal of poetry and short stories. All though I will never tell Piper that because if my teammates ever found out... pussy and pansy. Those would be my new nick names.

My mom raised me to understand and talk about my feelings and shit. I'm in touch with my sensitive side, or whatever. Although, I don't have the chance to talk to my mom about my feelings, hopes, and dreams anymore. 

And my dad... now he is the one with the macho attitude. Ever since my mom passed away last year, I've been alone. When I cried at her funeral, my dad slapped the back of my head.

It's been tough. My sister Daisy is left with my robot father and nanny now. My dad never has patience for Daisy. She has Down Syndrome. Her handicap always seems to be an embarrassment to my father, where my mom was a saint and advocate. She volunteered for all the events, helped run the Special Olympics, everything. Now Daisy is probably as lost as me. I try to take care of her and be there, but I can tell she misses mom as much as I do.

But I tell no one any of this. Not because I am ashamed or anything, but because I worry if I voice my struggles and concerns, I'll break down. I can't handle all this shit. Too much pressure. So now I write it out. Like I'm a little girl writing in a damn diary.

I get a text back from Maverick that has a bunch of beer emojis and says The pub. Roll out bro.