Page 6 of Blocked Score

I’m here for an assistant coaching position at a hockey summer camp for elite-level high school players. I got drafted to the San Jose NHL team out of high school, and their staff is heavily involved in running the program, so they offered me this role. I’m choosing to complete college and play for my school’s team, the Brumehill Black Bears, rather than trying to jump right into the pros, but the San Jose staff and I keep in touch.

Among other things, it’ll be valuable experience in a leadership position, because my college coach just told me that starting next year, I’m going to be the new team captain.

The camp is hosted on the University of Chicago campus, and I’ll be living in Hyde Park. But that’s not where I’m going right away. Camp staff have sent a car to pick me up from the airport and drive me to a teambuilding meeting that I’m arriving just in time for in Chicago’s Loop neighborhood.

“No,” I answer ruefully, “there’s a car picking me up that’s taking me right to a meeting for my hockey camp. Where are you staying this summer?”

“Hyde Park,” she answers.

Immediately, excitement surges through me.

We’re going to be living in the same neighborhood all summer. Anticipation beats in my chest, and I couldn’t wipe off the smile that’s taken residence on my face even if I wanted to try.

We arrive at the exit that’ll bring me out to where the car’s waiting for me. I don’t want to be late and make a bad impression with camp staff that include many of the people I’ll be working with at San Jose once I graduate. But I’m not ready to just saylaterto Scarlett.

“Same,” I say, trying not to sound as eager as I am. “Let’s trade numbers and meet up sometime.”

She stops.

A thoughtful look swims in her eyes, like she’s debating how to answer. There’s a twist of tension in my stomach that I’ve never felt before when asking a girl for her number.

I’m used to approaching interactions with women being cool and confident, but I’m anything but cool right now as I feel jittery with anticipation hoping that she says yes, because this is one girl I sure as hell haven’t seen enough of.

“You’re in Hyde Park, too?” she questions, tilting her head, an ambivalent glimmer still dancing in her eyes.

I nod. “That’s right.”

She purses her lips. Slices her gaze thoughtfully up and to the right. Then she shrugs.

“How ‘bout this,” she says, “if it’s meant to be, we’ll see each other around. It’s a long summer in a small neighborhood. And if we don’t,” she shrugs again, “it clearly wasn’t.”

I open my mouth, but before I can wrap my tongue around any words, she’s walking away, tossing me a wave over her shoulder. “See you around, pretty boy. Maybe,” she calls back.

That last word is like a dart slicing into my heart and a jolt of energy racing through my system all at once. But as my gaze tracks her walking away, it’s the latter reaction that wins out.

I have a feeling we’re going to meet again, and I have a feeling that it’s going to be a lot sooner than later.

3

SCARLETT

If I slip and break my neck while climbing up a rickety fire escape to sneak into a Chicago nightclub … well, at least it’ll be a fitting death.

About twenty minutes ago, I got kicked out of this club for coming to the defense of a girl who was being harassed by a jerk who wouldn’t take no for an answer. I called him out, at which point he called me a bitch and told me to mind my own business.

So, I threw my drink in his face.

And I was the one who got kicked out! Not him!

Now, this begs an obvious question. Why in the world would I want to get backintothis place?

Because my phone and my friend are still inside, and she has no idea I got booted out.

I came out to the club with my friend Demi, the one I’m staying with in Chicago. She’s still inside, unaware that I’m out here. And she has my phone in her purse.

The asshole bouncer at the front door wouldn’t let me back in just to find her so we could leave together; he wouldn’t even help me get a message to her so she could come out to me. He just stood there with his stupid cue-ball bald head and his big, beefyforearms folded over his big, beefy chest and glared at me with a smug expression on his face, clearly on some petty power trip.

Instead of sitting on the sidewalk and waiting for Demi to come out—and considering last time I saw her in there, she had just started flirting with a cute guy, so who knows how long that’ll be—I decided to try to find a way to sneak in.

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