Stolen Jerseys / ✓

0.04: chapter three

dedicated to @poopninja_yehah for her lovely comments :D

S C O T T

"Can we - " Connor wheezed, voice raspy as he struggled to intake air. I turned and saw Con bent over, hands on his knees and he wheezed, " - take a break?"

I smirked and nodded, dropping onto the benches a few feet away. I had a tradition of going on a run every morning. It had started ever since I started playing hockey. And recently, Connor had been complaining that he was too out of shape. So, naturally, I invited him on my run, in an attempt for him to get in shape again.

Big mistake.

After about an hour - with a lot of breaks and complaints - Connor had called for yet another break. He had always been... unathletic; Connor had a fast metabolism, and never had to worry about staying in shape. And now, when he decided to try and run, it didn't exactly work.

"How much was that?" Con mumbled out, cheeks flushed bright red. He dropped down onto the grass and stretched out his sweatpant-clad legs, "It definitely had to be a few miles. At the last - the very least - it had to be ten miles."

I smirked and ran a hand through my hair, pushing it back from my face, "We barely broke four miles."

Connor's face fell, lips drawing down into a pout as he shook his head furiously, "Absolutely not."

"Absolutely," I grinned at his disappointed look. We really hadn't run that much, but my best friend looked close to passing out, "s'not my fault you're the most out-of-shape person in Canada."

Connor scoffed and shook his head, leaning back on his elbows as he evened his breathing, "That's the biggest exaggeration," I scoffed at that and he flipped me off, making me snort, "you're the biggest douche in Canada."

Rolling my eyes, I stood back up and rubbed my hands on my palms. I pulled out my phone and saw it was almost one o'clock; an hour before I had to be at the second day of practice. I was still ridiculously nervous that I wouldn't make the team, and the whole previous night, I had been running over everything Coach had told me I had done wrong.

And - despite not liking her - everything Elle pointed out that I did badly.

Connor groaned and I wrapped my hand around his outstretched one and pulled him up. We started the walk back home, albeit slowly, since we were both a bit slowly.

My thoughts were mostly focused on the practice for today. There was a few weeks of practice, and then a final three tryouts. By the last tryout, Coach Monroe would have the final team decided and then I'd know if I made the team or not.

"I should come to your pracitce," Connor said suddenly, falling into step with my strides. He cocked his head to the side and grinned up at me.

"No."

"But - "

"No. No fucking way," I retorted, cutting him off from continuing on with his point. There wasn't a chance in hell I would be letting Connor come to my practices; especially when I hadn't even made the team, yet, "I'll die before that happens."

Connor gave me a crooked grin, light brown eyes sparkling, "That can be arranged."

I narrowed my eyes at Connor and slung an arm around his shoulder, pulling him towards me. I squeezed his shoulder tightly and Con groaned dramatically, "I swear, if you try to come to practice, I'll shove my hockey stick so far up your ass - "

Connor ducked out of my grip and flashed me a bright smile, "Point taken."

I loved Connor; I really did. He was my best friend, and eventually, I planned on letting him come to one of my games. (If I made the team). But he had a bit of a reputation when it came to coming to my games and practices.