Stolen Jerseys / ✓

3.07: chapter thirty-six

S C O T T

"Scott!" Connor yelled, making me whip my head towards his room, "Come here, dude!"

I groaned and pushed myself up off the couch, making my way towards Connor's room. I had my first official Marlies game, and I probably should have left by now to make it to the game early enough. But every couple minutes, Connor kept calling me into his room to check if I had my bag, or my gloves, or ask which jersey I preferred best. It was kind of ridiculous, but pretty awesome, too.

I leaned against Connor's doorway and laughed at all the stuff thrown around his room, "What?" I asked, grinning when I saw what jersey he was wearing, "Good pick, buddy."

Connor had specially ordered a Marlies' jersey with Wilson printed on the back. Connor told me that he was going to be my the best fan in the audience - which meant wearing a jersey for me, and buying one for Kelly, too. Even Elle had gotten a jersey with Wilson printed on the back of it, and that meant the world to me.

"Do you have your gloves?" Con asked, brown eyes narrowing. I rolled my eyes and nodded, and Connor yelped, pulling my gloves out from under his comforter, "Liar!" he cried, throwing the gloves at me, "You left them on my bed, jackass!"

I grabbed my gloves and frowned, twisting them around, "I thought I put these in my bag."

Connor scoffed at me and I laughed, taking a seat on the edge of his bed. My phone vibrated and I pulled it out, grinning widely when I saw Elle's name pop up. It had been a few days after our stupid 'fight', and now everything was back to normal. If anythings, things managed to be even better than before.

From Elle:

good luck tonight loser. i'll be the loudest one in the audience tonight :p you'll do amazing, babe, see you later :)

I grinned at the cheesy message and wrote a quick one back before pocketing my phone. I went to lean back in Connor's bed, only to have Con flop down next to me. I groaned and looked up at him, knowing that I had to get ready to go, anyway. I still had to get there before the game even started for our practicing.

Con shook his head and grabbed my shoulders, pushing me up and out of his room. It was already four-thirty, and the game started at six. That wouldn't have been such a problem, except for the fact that Coach Monroe wanted us at the Marlies stadium by five, and I didn't even have shoes on yet. Shit.

I ducked under Connor's hands and tossed my gloves in my hockey bag. I cursed and dropped down on the ground, tugging the closest pairs of shoes I had towards me and shoving them on my feet. I had gone to bed at eight o'clock last night to make sure I'd have plenty of time in the morning, yet, somehow, I was still late.

I jumped up and tugged my jeans up a little higher. I looked around for my jacket, only to see Connor standing a few feet away, texting someone (probably Kelly), with a goofy grin on his face. I glared at him and practically threw the couch cushions around in a search for my hoodie. I had just seen it.

"It's on the kitchen table," Con called, the same stupid smile playing on his lips. I frowned and walked into the kitchen, not really surprised when I saw my hoodie on the table. Connor was a neat-freak - he knew where everything was.

Jogging back into the living room, I pocketed my keys, and grabbed my hockey bag, ready to go. I ruffled up my hair and took a deep breath before opening the front door and slipping out. I was half-way done the hall (I was resisting the urge to check my phone, since I knew that Elle had been texting me) when Connor shouting my name made me stop.

I turned around and Connor grinned at me, flashing me a thumbs-up, "Good luck, Scotty!" he called, whistling afterwards. I grinned and started down the hall again.