Page 4 of Until He Scores

Her features lit up while her cheeks turned a warm shade of pink. “Thanks, Thierry.”

“You’re welcome,” I replied. “We’re having an exhibition game in a few weeks before summer starts, if you want to go to that one?”

“Yeah,” she said. “You’ll have to tell me when and where.” Lily-Mae pulled her iPhone 4s out of her pocket. “Put your infoin, and I’ll text you, so you’ll have mine. Then you can send me all the deets.”

“Sure,” I said, doing as she asked. “Maybe I could come watch you practice or something this summer. When we’re not playing, obviously.”

She grinned. “That’d be awesome.”

“Come on, Lily-Mae,” one of her friends said, motioning for her to join the growing group on the field.

“Well, gotta run,” she murmured. “See you, Thierry.”

“Later,” I replied as she hurried back to her friends. I didn’t have the heart to tell her we’d only ever be friends.

Thierry, nineteen years old, winter break...

“Come on, Thierry,” Lily-Mae shouted from the living room of her apartment on campus. “We’re going to miss the kick-off.”

“No, we’re not,” I said, bringing our to-go containers of food from the kitchen. “We still have ten minutes before the game starts.”

Coach offered me a full-ride scholarship to the University of Tennessee to play for the Vols hockey team. I could have gone to any program in the country, but sticking close to home afterdad’s diagnosis of stage three colon cancer seemed only fair after everything my parents sacrificed for me. So far, he was responding to his treatment and his oncology team, along with his regular doctors, appeared encouraged by his progress. Didn’t mean we hadn’t spent long nights at his bedside in the hospital, wondering whether he’d make it through emergency surgery or not.

“Do you think Coach will let Rick play tonight?” Lily-Mae took her box from me as she sat crossed legged on her couch. Lady Waddlesworth, Lily-Mae’s cat, purred up a storm as she stretched out on the opposite armrest of the couch.

“I don’t see why he wouldn’t,” I replied, taking up the spot beside her. I always knew I couldn’t lead her on, so I’d been up front about my sexuality with her. She was the first person to find out, besides my parents. At first, she’d been a little embarrassed. But once those few awkward moments were out of the way, we’d become the best of friends, though nothing like Pope and me.

Never like us.

When time allotted, I went to her band competitions and concerts and when her schedule permitted, she went to my games. She’d never replace Pope, but she was the best “girl” friend I ever had. She’d been my rock, when I needed it the most.

And I’d been hers too.

“It’d be so cool if we got to see Rick play.” For the first time since 2010 the Tennessee Vols were in a bowl game. They were playing in Florida, unfortunately, which meant we stuck close to home.

Rick was Lily-Mae’s current boyfriend and the quarterback of the Vols football program. They’d played a hard-fought season, so this bowl game was the prize for doing well. I had no doubt, if they were playing the game here, Lily-Mae, and I would have been at Rocky Top, cheering them on.

As for Pope and me, I tried so many times to find the words to apologize to him for what I did that night, but none of them ever seemed good enough or right. Sure, we said the occasional hi in passing, but by the time we graduated high school, we didn’t have anything holding us together anymore. His life pulled him in one direction while mine shot in the other.

I’d been put on draft watch a couple of weeks ago, which meant leaving college early. Though our season wouldn’t officially end until March, Coach had brought me into his office and gave me a heads up. Scouts would be watching me from now on. I didn’t want to seem conceited and say I already knew, however having scouts at tournaments wasn’t new. They’d been at the 18U tournament and again at the Olympics. Fortunately, I’d learned to ignore them.

For the most part.

“So, what are we betting, tonight?” Lily-Mae tucked into her meal while Lady Waddlesworth continued to purr beside us.

“Loser has to buy the first set of tickets to the first home game of their team of choice,” I said.

“Football or hockey?”

“Either,” I answered.

“You’re on,” Lily-Mae replied, holding out her hand for me to shake.

For the next three hours we watched the game, both teams playing their hearts out. When the final whistle was blown, Tennessee had won, and of course, I was buying her tickets to whatever game she wanted to attend.

“I’ll make you a deal, Thierry,” she said. “When you become a famous hockey player, you can bring me to one of your games, no matter where, and we’ll call this bet even.”

I grunted. “You’re on.”

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