What Are The Odds?: A college hockey romance. (Phil-U Book 1)
What Are The Odds?: Chapter 11

Levi.

I’d just stepped out the shower, towel tied around my waist, when the assistant coach strolled into the change room. His eyes searched the guys. I did my best to blend into the background, praying he wasn’t looking for me. No such luck. His gaze locked on mine.

“Coach wants to see you, Holloway.”

Great. I pulled on my hoodie and sweats before tracking the familiar walkway to Coach’s office. He was sitting behind his desk, pinching the bridge of his nose as he rewatched last weekend’s game. Being our first of the year, there was a lot that could be improved. Our passing accuracy wasn’t great. And we missed almost as many opportunities as we gave up. Still, with last year’s seniors gone and a new wave of freshman coming through, there was bound to be a few teething issues in our first few games. At least we’d bagged two points. A win was a win.

“We have scouts coming to this weekend’s game,” he told me. “Given it’s the first Saturday night home game of the season, it’s expected to sell out.”

Phil-U’s popular hockey program had always drawn a good fanbase. But since securing last year’s Frozen Four victory, the attention had amped up. There was even a dedicated social media team that were always around now, filming our practices, and banter in the locker rooms, and making us film random trends or answer weird questions.

“While it’s not a concern for you, other guys on the team will be banking on getting attention this year.” He leant back in his chair so far I was worried it might break. “I need you to keep them grounded and keep their heads in the game. Especially the new guys. Don’t let the attention get to them.”

“You got it, sir.”

He nodded curtly. I’d spent enough years around Coach to know that meant he was done. Though just as I was stepping through the doorway, he called out my name.

“Yes, sir?”

“You need to keep your head in the game too, son.”

My eyebrows pulled together. “Always has been.”

“Good. Keep it that way. You’re talented enough that hockey can set you up for life, Holloway.”

That was the plan. This was my fourth year under Coach. He literally lived and breathed the game. He was here before any of us arrived, and he left long after we left. I don’t think he had a life outside of this sports program.

“No distractions. Hockey comes first, got it kid?”

I nodded. “I won’t forget, Coach.”

*

I tapped my phone against my lip, staring at the TV. The guys were down a rabbit hole of AFL highlights. We were well and truly hooked. I hadn’t expected the game to end like it had the other night. The final siren had sounded when Adelaide was down by two points, but an on-the-siren-free-kick was called to give them one last chance. They kicked a game winning goal. It was a proper buzzer-beater finish. I’d literally jumped from my seat, almost knocking the drink out of Grace’s hand. At least I’d picked the right team. Her team. I was taking that as a good omen. We were currently in the fourteenth-minute of a thirty-minute video of the best marks of last season. Some were epic. The players put their bodies on the line, launching high. Not at all phased by the prospect of coming down when they were flying for the ball. I unlocked my phone before scrolling through Grace’s Instagram for what felt like the hundredth time. She didn’t post a whole lot, and whatever photos there were she was always with other people. Posing with her brothers. Standing on a podium with her swimming team. A sunset pic of one of the most epic beaches I’d ever seen. Tripp had mentioned something about her Instagram Story while we were skating this morning. Sure enough, Tripp was already following Grace when I pulled up her account. By lunch, she’d accepted my follow request and requested me back. Progress. Her Instagram Story had been a shared post from a girl named Ava. Grace had been in the background, decked in her swimsuit. She’d winked at the camera before diving into the pool. I pulled up her new number and typed out a message. Here’s hoping she hadn’t shared it with Ryker.

Levi: Hughesy.

Short. Simple. And hopefully effective. When there was only four-minutes left of the highlight video, she wrote back.

Grace: Holloway.

Levi: Now I have an AFL team you need a hockey team.

Grace: Any red, yellow and blue teams in the NHL?

Levi: Given I went for your team, it’s only fair you should go for mine.

Grace: Which is?

Levi: The Islanders.

Grace: And they’re from?

Levi: New York.

Grace: I thought it was the New York Rangers.

Levi: Mention those traitors again and this friendship is over, Hughesy.

Grace: That team is banished from my vocabulary.

Levi: Good. What are you up to now?

Grace: Driving to Washington. We have a meet.

I’d done that drive more times than I could count for hockey. In fact, we had an away game against Washington coming up. It was a two-and-a-half-hour drive. And always fucking brutal after a loss. I guess I better make sure we won.

Grace: I owe you for this sim. This road trip without Spotify would’ve been unbearable. 

Levi: What are you listening to?

Grace: Dice.

I picked up my AirPods that were on the coffee table and placed them in each ear. I searched Dice in Spotify, then hit play.

Levi: Not bad.

Grace: You’re listening to them?

Levi: Yep. Favourite song? S~ᴇaʀᴄh the FindNʘᴠᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Grace: Hm. Let me think.

Grace: Double Espresso.

Grace: No. Reality.

Grace: Wait. No. Eyes Ahead.

Levi: Let me play them all and I’ll come back to you.

I lounged back on the couch, eyes closed as I played the three songs. Then a few others.

Levi: Plot twist. I’m going with Tickets.

Grace: I respect the honesty.

Levi: What’s your favourite band of all time?

Grace: What an evil question.

Levi: How’s that evil?

Grace: That’s like asking what your favourite movie of all time is. Nobody has a favourite movie. There are too many good ones.

Levi: Easy. A Bug’s Life.

Grace: I was not expecting that answer.

She’d followed her message with a dozen laughing Emojis.

Levi: The story of an idealistic outcast who saves a community of sceptics. It’s fucking epic.

Grace: Fair point. I cried after I watched it thinking of all the ants I’d stepped on over the years. I promise I haven’t killed one since.

Levi: Really?

Grace: How gullible are you, Holloway? Of course I’m not serious. They’re pests back home. Between them and flies, Chrissy lunch is a warzone.  

I actually laughed out loud, imaging Grace saying that in her accent. From beside me on the couch, Will glanced at me out the corner of his eye.

Levi: Favourite artist, Hughesy. Go.

Grace: Right now… I’ve been listening to a lot of Daily J.

I searched them in Spotify next. We had very different taste in music, but I didn’t mind Grace’s taste.

Levi: How long are you in Washington?

Grace: We get back Monday afternoon.

That took out the entire weekend, as well as our lecture on Monday morning. I guess I would be stuck with Richardson. Maybe I’d ditch and catch-up online. I tapped my fingers on my phone, thinking through what to say next. The concept of becoming friends with a girl before I hooked up with them wasn’t one I was familiar with. I had to second guess everything.

Levi: Once you’re home, what do you say to a redo of the other night? Only this time it’s a hockey education instead.

Five minutes passed. Then ten. Then it was dinner time. Then I was getting ready for bed. Just as I was turning off my TV, I checked my phone one last time. I had multiple messages waiting, but only one I wanted to see. My lips involuntarily pulled up seeing the name Grace Hughes.

Grace: Sorry. Phone died. If Taco Bell is on the menu again, you’ve got a deal Holloway.

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