The More Boys I Meet

“Will you please just referee this one game Ellie?” Pat whined, offering me the puck to drop.

We were in the park and the guys really wanted a pick up game. And apparently I was the only viable referee in town. “Get one of your puck bunnies to do it!” I whined back.

“I know you won’t try to feel me up while dropping the puck. You’re the only one I trust,” he winked and I blushed. Not because of what he said got me hot or anything of the sort. No, it was because he promised that we’d never bring up that night, no matter how inadvertently.

“I hope they crush you,” I coughed into my sleeve, grabbing the puck.

“What was that Ell?” he asked.

“Nothing you little inconsiderate twerp. So, who’s on which team?”

Crow, Krugs, Seabs, Johnny, and Viktor raised their hands. “Team Awesome over here,” Johnny clarified. “Hossa, Kaner, Razor, Bollie, and Hammer are on Team Nothingness.”

“Well how am I going to keep track of you all for penalties and all that?” I argued.

“What are you suggesting Ellie?” Hammer hollered out.

“Team Awesome. Off with your shirts. I don’t want to see Pat’s out of shape chub over there,” I barely finished my sentence when a wave of sweaty tee shirts hit me in the face, almost knocking me off my feet. “Hey! I complimented all you bitches!”

“I’m not taking my shirt off,” Crow declared. “I’m a freaking goalie, not a model like some Swedish man we all know,” rolling his eyes at Viktor.

I flipped the puck between Hossa and Johnny and jumped back as to not get swiped off my feet.

Being a referee sucked. Running down the ‘ice’ with those in shape bitches was. . .well. . .a bitch. Called about three penalties, all of which lasted thirty seconds, not two minutes and there was surprisingly more rough housing than I expected for a pick up game in the park.

“Jesus!” I panted, bending down to catch my breath while Seabs ran to get the puck which was shot out of play. “I might have to take up running again!”

“You’re more than welcome to join us,” Johnny offered.

“Please!” I stood, wiping sweat from my forehead. “Hell no! You’re like a freaking maniac out there! I’m just going to jog in the wee hours of the morning as to hide my pitiful out of shape body!”

“Um no,” Pat said. “No wee hours of the morning unless one of us is with you, understand?” he gave me that brother look.

I rolled my eyes and caught the puck Seabs threw at me. “Aye, aye skipper. Let’s hurry up and finish this game. It’s getting dark out!”

I threw the puck back in play and turned to get out of the way. I was running down the ‘ice’ when the puck was slashed out of midair.

“Krugs get it!” Johnny hollered and before I knew it, Marcus Kruger and the puck were coming straight for me.

I literally had no time to move when the puck struck my head and Marcus bowled me over at the same time.

My back hit the ground and I groaned in pain. I opened my eyes to stars and a shirtless Swede on top of me.

“Are you okay?!” he asked, his eyes wide, searching my head for blood.

I just nodded, my hand pressed to my head. He jumped off of me, helping me up slowly.

“Are you okay?!” Pat ran over. “Jesus Ellie!”

“Shut up Pattycake. I didn’t exactly have time to duck out of the way. Really Johnny Toews? Get it Krugs? And you for actually obeying?! If you’re going to play on this team, you’re going to have to learn to defy your Captain!” I shook my free fist at the Swede.

He looked alarmed. “You’re bleeding. I made you bleed!”

“What?” I removed my hand from my head and my hand was indeed stained with some red. “Oh Jesus. There’s a first aid kit back at the house, right?” I asked Pat.

“You are going to the hospital,” he steered me to the cars. “Not using a freaking first aid kit!”

“They use it too! Just a fancier version!” I argued. “Wait!” I stopped everyone dead in their tracks. “I am not taking ten Blackhawks to the emergency room. Eight of you can go home and make dinner.”

“Krugs cause he bowled over her and Stally because it was his stick that initially hit the puck to Ellie’s forehead,” Johnny Toews decided for everyone.

Pat eyed me warily. “You going to be okay?” he asked.

I waved him off. “No biggie. Just a battle wound. Go home. I trust the Swedes will take care of me, I hope. If not, I’ll call you,” I promised.

I tossed the Swedes the shirts. “Put them on or else you’ll cause traffic accidents.”

Viktor jumped into the driver’s seat of his car and Krugs and I got into the back, because apparently I was unable to sit still for the ten minute car ride.

“Move your hand,” Marcus mumbled, pressing someone’s shirt to my head.

“That was my good grey shirt too. . .” Crow mourned the loss of his shirt as we drove away.

“I’ll bring it back for you!” I called out the window.

“Thanks Ells! So thoughtful!”

I chuckled, holding the tee shirt to my head. “Does it look that bad?” I asked Marcus.

“Well it doesn’t look like a paper cut.”

“I heard paper cuts are actually worse,” I chirped.

“Shouldn’t you be groaning on the seat or something?” Viktor glanced back in the rear view mirror.

“Just get me to the hospital in one piece, yeah?” I rolled my eyes.

Viktor turned up the music, no doubt to block me out and I stared out the window, humming along to the lyrics.

“I’m sorry,” I barely heard the words out of Marcus’s mouth and I had to turn around to fully believe them. “I should have stopped,” he actually looked guilty.

I smiled at him. “Don’t worry about it. It wouldn’t be summer without at least one injury.”

“You have weird ideas of summer fun,” he muttered, pressing the shirt to my head, taking my hand off.

“You sure have weird ways of showing you care,” I mumbled back at him and we sat the rest of the way in silence with only Viktor’s music for company.