Page 27 of Strange Love

I look at him expectantly, waiting for him to answer my question.

“But if I have my way,” he says with a mischievous grin, “you’ll call me Baby.”

Chapter 16

“Life In A Northern Town”

Corey - Age 18, 1988

I’m skating suicides tonight for being late to practice. Coach wasn’t too happy that I missed the first thirty minutes due to detention.

“We gonna have an attitude problem, Delacour?” he yells as I skate from line to line, my legs threatening to give out at any moment. The rest of the team continues to practice without me, laughing and shaking their heads occasionally.

“No, Coach,” I answer breathlessly.

“You’re this close to being picked up by a big program,” he yells, holding his fingers an inch apart. “I’ll be damned if a sudden rebellious streak is going to ruin it. I better not hear about you mouthing off to any more teachers,” he says.

The sweat drips from my head in sheets, making it impossible to see clearly. “You won’t, Coach,” I respond confidently. Hockey is more than just a game— it’s my entire future, and I approach it with unwavering dedication. Most of the time. Today was a blip. One that I’m not sorry about, even though I’m about to throw up and then pass out. I can’t let it happen again.

“Alright, get back to practice,” he says.

As we work on edge work drills, Taz takes advantage of the brief breaks to pry into my personal life. “So, what’s the deal with the new girl, seriously?” he asks with a smirk.

“She’s cool,” I reply, unwilling to divulge any details as I focus on weaving through the cones with agility.

Taz leans in, his voice low and mischievous. “So are you gonna boink her?” he asks, a devilish grin on his face.

“Why do you care so much about my sex life, Taz?” I shoot back without breaking my concentration.

“Just trying to crack the code of your smooth moves, Master Yoda,” he retorts with a playful laugh.

“You’ll never master my moves, Taz.”

“So if you’re after Ivy,” he says, emphasizing her name, “that means her little goth friend is fair game, right?”

“I suppose so.” I shrug. “But I don’t think she’s your type.”

Taz scoffs and makes a dramatic gesture towards himself. “All women are my type. Besides, have you seen that curvy little body?”

“Honestly, I should probably warn you away from this plan,” I say, “but I’m morbidly curious to see how it turns out.”

“Thanks for the support, Buddy,” he says.

Hot water cascades over my aching muscles as I stand in the shower, trying to wash away the exhaustion from the intense practice. My legs tremble with each step as I make my way to my locker, towel wrapped tightly around my waist.

As I approach, I see Doug Cruz standing at his locker, getting out of his gear. He had been talking to our coach after practice about something, no doubt trying to score some special treatment. I can’t stand the guy. He’s always been a cocky asshole, more focused on his success than the team’s. He’s the kind of guy who would gladly stab one of his players in the back if he thought it would get him ahead.

“So, I hear you’ve got your eye on the new girl at your school,” Cruz says with a smirk, not even bothering to glimpse at me. Cruz goes to a different school, some fancy private school that fits his tight-ass personality perfectly.

“Is that what everyone’s saying?” I respond, keeping my voice neutral.

“Yeah,” he confirms, still avoiding eye contact, “Rumor has it she’s a total whacko.”

I clench my fists and try to keep my cool. How does he know anything about her? And why is he so interested?

“How would you even know that?” I question, struggling to contain my anger.

“You’re not the only one who fucks girls at your school. Some of them like to talk,” he says, and I can see him shrug his shoulders out of the corner of his eye.