2.06: chapter twenty-five

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S C O T T

"What jersey number are you picking?" Connor asked, stretching out on the couch. He frowned and flicked to a different tv station, before turning his attention towards me.

I shrugged, "Probably fourt - "

"What are you doing on tonight on your date with Elle?" he asked, drumming his fingers nervously on his thighs. I opened my mouth to answer, but Con cut me off again, "Better question: what should I do tonight on my date with Kelly?"

"Actually let her finish a sentence?" I offered, smirking at my best friend. Connor glared at me and I innocently held up my hands, "I don't know - what does Kelly like to do?"

"Watch movies," Connor said instantly, shooting me a hopeless look. I sighed and waved my hand, motioning for him to go on, "um, she likes to write. Oh, she really loves skating. I'm pretty sure she spends, like, half her days at the ice rink."

Connor started listing off other things Kelly liked to do, and I couldn't help but grin at him. He was so ridiculously nervous for his date, even though I knew it would be fine. Connor really, really liked Kelly and I knew she felt the same about him. He just needed to get over his nerves and then everything would be fine.

"Take her to the ice rink," I said, leaning down and tying up my shoes. I grabbed my hoodie off the back of the couch and shrugged it on, "she'll love it! Plus, you're awful at skating, so she'll get to laugh at you when you fall all over the place."

Connor narrowed his brown eyes at me and shook his head, "I don't want to make an idiot out of myself, though."

"You kind of already are one."

Connor groaned loudly and leaned back, closing his eyes. He ran his fingers through his dark hair, messing it up worse than it was, and I decided that was my cue to leave. I had to go fill out the paperwork and pick out my jersey number anyway, and I really didn't want to stay when Connor was in one of his moods.

"I'm leaving now," I told him, grabbing my keys and shoving them in my pocket.

Connor just groaned again, "I'll be here," he called, leaning forward and scooping Miguel up off the floor, "wallowing in pity and being incredibly nervous for my date. But no, you go have fun and get your new jersey and see Elle, who you're basically already dating."

"Thanks," I grinned, flashing him a thumbs-up before slipping out the front door.

Truthfully, I was nervous for my date with Elle tonight. This time, we both knew that it was a date, and that had managed to make my nerves even worse. I did like Elle, and I wanted this to go really, really well. I wanted her to know that I did like her; that I did appreciate everything she had done for me.

I groaned and slipped in the drivers side of my car, starting it up and making my way down to the rink. She told me she wasn't going to be there this morning, but I had made sure that her dad wouldn't kill me for not returning my practice jersey. Elle said the team got to keep them, but I was sure even if we weren't allowed to have them, she wouldn't have told me that.

I pulled into the parking lot and slipped out the door. I paused, fishing my phone out of my pocket when I felt it vibrate. Connor's name flashed across the screen and I rolled my eyes, unlocking it and clicking on the message.

From Connor:

btw get jersey number 69. it's funny and makes u look cool ;D

I snorted and texted back a quick, 'no' before shoving my phone back in my pocket. All through high school, Connor had tried to convince me to get the jersey number sixty-nine. He had even gone as far as tapping over the number on the back of my jersey, and writing sixty-nine. It was awful.

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