Stolen Jerseys / ✓

2.08: chapter twenty-seven

S C O T T

Coach Monroe was a scary guy.

He was tall and buff, and his green eyes seemed to be consistently narrowed. He tended to yell a lot, and now, whenever I saw him, I could only think about if he actually could murder someone with a hockey stick. I doubted it, but he was still pretty scary.

That was just him at practice, though.

Now I was standing on his porch, with him glaring down at me from the doorway. Elle seemed completely calm next to me, but I was pretty sure my heart was about to pound right out of my chest. And all I could think was: shit he just saw me kissing Elle. The hockey coach - her dad - saw me kissing Elle, and now he looked ready to murder me.

Coach Monroe stepped outside and leaned against the wall next to the doorway. I shoved my hands in my pockets and rocked back-and-forth on my heels, wondering if I'd be able to make it to my car before Monroe could catch me. I didn't get a chance to test it, though, because Monroe started talking.

"Elle, can you go inside?" he asked, and I turned to stare at Elle, wide-eyed. She didn't seem to notice; she just shrugged, "I want to talk to Scott for a minute."

"Sure," Elle agreed, and I wanted to snap. This hard to be the time when she decide not to argue about anything, "Goodnight, Scott."

Elle grinned and I gave her a weak smile back, awkwardly waving as she ascended the stairs. I shot her a helpless look, but Elle just opened the door and slipped inside, leaving me alone with her dad. Her very annoyed looking dad.

I stood there, staring up at Coach Monroe expectantly. He didn't say anything, just stared right back at me. My heart pounded in my chest and I scratched the back of my neck, biting my lip and waiting anxiously. I wanted him to say something - anything. I didn't care, really. I just hated having him stare at me like he was waiting for me to speak.

"Are you dating Elle?" Monroe asked, and my head snapped back in his direction. I stared at him, jaw slack as I processed what he had asked me, "Are you?"

Was I dating Elle? We had been on dates, and I was pretty sure it was obvious that I had feelings for her. But I had never actually asked Elle out, and she never really asked 'what' we were. I guessed - technically - we weren't exactly dating.

"I don't think so," I admitted, clasping my hands in front of me as Monroe just cocked his head to the side, eyes narrowing again.

"All right. Do you like Elle?"

I didn't hesitate when answering him that time. I didn't need to hesitate because I was sure of my answer.

I nodded, unclasping my hands and awkwardly dropping my hands by my sides, "Yeah," I said, a small smile tugging on my lips when I saw Elle move the curtain and wave to me from the window, "I do like Elle."

Coach Monroe sighed in exasperation and shook his head. I frowned and prepared myself for what he was going to say next; I expected a threat, or maybe him even telling me that I wasn't allowed to date Elle since she was his daughter and I was on the team. But he said absolutely none of that - nothing even close.

"If you like her, then why haven't you asked her out?" Monroe demanded, and my jaw dropped. I cocked my head to the side, and he continued, "That's what you do, Scott. When you like a girl, you're supposed to ask her out. Not kiss her in front of her father's house."

"What - "

"Do I have to spell it out for you?" but he didn't look mad. Coach Monroe was smiling at me, "If you like Elle, ask her out. You don't keep a girl waiting, son. Especially when you're always sending her lovey-dovey eyes during practice."