Icing by Ashley Stanton Read Free Book Online Page A

would be skipped in exchange for long naps in front of the fireplace.  His daze was interrupted when he was pushed ahead to the beer tap. He pulled.  He filled. He drank. He pulled. He filled.  He drank.
    “Take it easy Kyle.  The locals are sure to make a call any minute and we’ll be headed back to campus.  Don’t waste the buzz man, you’ve got early practice.
    “You can’t change your tune now Tru.  This is just what I needed.”
    Kyle had been tipsy in the past off a beer or glass of wine but he was charting untested waters.  He was ripe to get really drunk.  Truman had never seen him like this.  Kyle was fiery.  In went the beer and out came the stress.
    “Con man, what are you doing here?  Hey!  We have practice in the morning are you going?”
    Con from the team was there and happy to see Kyle.  He realized it was a rare night out for his buddy.  Con was a big guy and he sensed Kyle could use his kind of presence just like he needed on the ice.
    “Hi Kyle.  What kind of question is that? I didn’t know it was optional.  Of course I’ll be there.  It’s a little past my bed time but I’ll present.”
    “Man I’m getting a little drunk.  Make sure you get be on the last bus outa here.”
    Mayhem ensued and Con lost Kyle.  Truman had disappeared.  Kyle was a good guy with manners especially when it came to women.  He wasn’t often in a situation where his strict moral code, so delicately laid out by his Dad would be challenged.  He was inebriated and so were the girls.  A red head kissed Kyle hard and sloppy.  Not gentle like Janey in high school nor like he imagined the blond would kiss.  Kyle was dizzy and the red head was unbuttoning his shirt.  That was about all he remembered until the walk home.  The last bus puffed by as the girl was leading him inside although he didn’t resist, at least he thought that was the case.
    Con was a superb defender on the ice and handled his job just as well on dry land. He found his friend shirtless and disoriented in the kitchen.  He was shoeless.  Kyle looked pathetic and lost.  Con threw his arm around his friend’s waist and escorted him out the door and down the stairs.  They stood in the courtyard.  It was a three mile walk back to Kennedy 2012.  They walked with a few stops to extract the juice from Kyle’s belly.
    They were back at about two with only three hours until the whistle blew.  Truman was MIA so Con bunked on top.  Kyle was put on the bottom berth – closer to the toilet, but he most likely wouldn’t make it that far.
    Con would be friend for life – a brother.
    Cold rag thrown over his head like a shroud Con woke him up.  Tru had made it back and there was no time to hear his tale. 
    “Let’s see what you’re made of Caldwell.  Your eyes tell the story.  Coach will see and smell last night on you.  No excuses – they’re undignified.”
    “Tell coach I’m sick.”
    “Somewhere, somehow he’ll find the truth.  Don’t be a pussy.”
    They were out the door.  It was dark and the campus was a ghost town as most of the kids were on their journey back home.  Practices were rare and optional for some athletes on this Wednesday morning but hockey followed a different calendar. Con and Kyle sprinted across the fields and into Mullins.
    “You O.K.?”
    “No.” Kyle sputtered. The bathroom was cold and very fluorescent.  He ran into a stall and puked.  Nothing left but some bile.
    He stepped tentatively onto the ice.  He fell into formation, stick in hand, with the addition of training weights. Every puck to stick contact initiated a resounding crack immediately felt by his tender head.  He didn’t see 100% and balance was tentative.  Coach stood before Kyle.
    “Last night slow you down a bit Caldwell.” His comment was joined by sinister laughter.  He seemed maniacally pleased that Kyle was struggling. ”Every freshman learns his lesson.  I get worried if they don’t.  Humbling isn’t