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Keeping his distance from Marcus is absolutely a problem.
The thing is, it isn’t Jared’s fault. He’s sure Evanson wouldn’t accept that as an excuse, but it’s true. Jared absolutely meant it when he said he’d keep his distance, but the problem is that Marcus isn’t keeping his.
Jared had expected, coming to camp the next morning, that Marcus would be back to sulking, maybe throwing in some glaring at Jared to add spice to his routine. Instead, after showing up to the workout room twenty minutes late he immediately makes his way over to where Jared and Raf are setting up at the weight bench. Jared’s trying not to let any competitive urge tempt him to put more weight on the barbell than he knows he can handle. Pride is way less important than his continued health.
“I can spot you,” Marcus says, like they’re all cool and Jared didn’t basically call him out yesterday. Even if he hadn’t, Raf’s right there, obviously capable of spotting Jared. Also Jared isn’t insane, so that’s a hard, hard pass.
“That’s okay,” Jared says. “No thanks. Seriously.”
“I wasn’t asking,” Marcus snaps.
“Yeah but still no thanks,” Jared says. “Because I don’t want to die with a barbell crushing my chest.”
“I’ll spot him first if you’re going to be all paranoid about it,” Marcus says, rolling his eyes, like Jared is bargaining here. Which he is not. No way douchebag with a grudge is spotting either of them.
“Don’t make Raf collateral damage, man,” Jared says. “Not cool.”
“Who?” Marcus says, because of course he doesn’t know Raf’s name. Of course he doesn’t.
“Hi,” Raf says shyly. Jared would think he was a little starstruck, except he’s starting to learn that’s just Raf.
“He’s too cute to die,” Jared says. “Look at that adorable face. You can’t kill that face.”
Raf goes all embarrassed and even more shy. He is actually adorable. Jared’s considering inviting him over on the weekend to chill and play video games or watch something and so Raf can charm the hell out of his mom. She makes a mean dinner when she’s cooking for a friend of Jared’s she approves of, and Raf is the ideal mom material. Like, platonically. Jared’s not getting those vibes from him, and even if he did, Raf is way too nice a guy for him.
Jared was expecting a retort of some kind, but instead Marcus stalks away. He doesn’t even bother going over to any of the other guys in the room, just settles in the corner for another sulk.
“Dude,” Raf says, kind of wide-eyed and still looking a little embarrassed.
“You’re welcome,” Jared says.
“For what?” Raf says.
“I just saved your life,” Jared says.
Raf laughs a little. “I doubt he’d kill us in public,” he says.
“He punched an Oilers fan in public,” Jared says.
“Who hasn’t wanted to do that,” Raf mumbles, so low that Jared’s not even sure he’s heard him right.
“Not an Oilers fan, Sanchez?” Jared asks.
“Canucks,” Raf says, and laughs again when Jared wrinkles his nose. “But at least I’m not an Oilers fan?”
“Fair enough,” Jared says. “Spot me. You’re less likely to let it crush my throat.”
“It’d more likely be your sternum,” Raf corrects him, and Jared applauds himself for his good taste in friends.
*
Marcus will not go away.
There he is scowling at Raf and Jared lifting weights. Burning holes into the back of Jared’s neck during lunch with a look so physical that Jared didn’t even need Raf to tell him that he was being stared at because he could feel it. Criticizing their form during a face-off drill, Raf’s more than Jared’s, which was ridiculous, because Raf’s a ton better than Jared considering he’s, you know, actually a centre, unlike Jared. Or Marcus for the matter.
By the end of the day Jared’s exhausted. It’s stupid, because he hasn’t actually exerted himself, at least not beyond what he’s capable of handling, but something about Marcus’ hovering is getting to him.
The next day is even worse. Marcus seems resolute in his apparent plan to drive Jared nuts. He constantly ends up wherever Jared is, dispensing awful advice until Jared can’t keep himself from saying something that’d be inexcusably rude if Bryce was an actual coach and not some douchebag playing at it. Whenever Jared lands a blow, Marcus goes off to sulk some more and lick his wounds before returning for another round of being annoying and wrong. It’s practically routine already.
It’s practically a game, except Jared isn’t enjoying it, and it feels like the more Jared brushes him off the faster he comes back, armed with that punchable face, sometimes with the addition of an even more punchable smirk, and always equipped with a never ending supply of terrible advice. Jared wonders if he’s giving bad advice on purpose to bug Jared or he’s just stupid enough to think it’s good advice. Stupid enough to think Jared wants his advice and is, what, playing hard to teach? Honestly he can’t even tell.
When he’s finally, finally released from the horrible purgatory of Bryce Marcus’ attention, Jared makes his wobbly way outside and collapses on the grass beside the entrance.
Raf stands over him. “Tired?” he asks.
“Uuugh,” Jared says, and throws a hand over his face to block out the sun.
“There’s a bench ten feet from us,” Raf says.
“Leave me to die,” Jared says. “Knowing that my own hubris is the cause of my suffering.”
Raf sits down on the grass beside him. “Hubris in insulting Marcus or thinking he’d leave you alone after?”
“You know what hubris means?” Jared says, cracking an eye open.
“I’m not dumb,” Raf says, and when Jared turns his head to look at him he’s frowning.
“I know,” Jared says, and when Raf keeps frowning, “Seriously, I know. You are basically my new best friend because of that. Unless...navel or belly button?”
"Navel," Raf says without hesitation. Confirmed: new best friend.
Jared gives him a thumbs up. “New best friend,” he says.
“Do you have an old best friend?” Raf asks.
“Ouch,” Jared says, because no. No he does not.
“I didn’t mean—” Raf says. “Sorry.”
“No worries,” Jared says. “Is he actually this stupid, or is he a masochist, you think?”
“Marcus?” Raf asks, and then answers his own question before Jared has to bite back an ‘obviously’. “Maybe he’s trying to prove a point. You know, he got in trouble for not getting involved so he’s trying to show Evanson he is now.”
“Okay, but the Flames fanboys would be all over him bugging them,” Jared says. “So I don’t know why he has to keep hanging around us.”
“You’re a Flames fan,” Raf says, like he’s trying to remind Jared of his own poor taste in teams. Jared is generously not holding it against him even though Raf’s from Alberta too and therefore doesn’t even have an geographical excuse for it.
“I just want him to go away,” Jared complains.
“I know,” Raf says.
“What, you don’t?” Jared asks.
“No, I do,” Raf says. “He’s kind of messing with my concentration.”
“Right?” Jared asks. “And what is with his advice? I don’t think he’s said one useful thing in the last two days.”
“I mean—” Raf says. “His advice about your backhand—”
“What about it?” Jared asks.
“Nothing,” Raf says. “Never mind.”
“My backhand’s fine,” Jared mutters. “Don’t you have to get the bus back the the U of C dorms? Don’t want to make you miss it or anything.”
“It’s not here yet,” Raf says. “Do you want a hand up, or should I leave you to die?”
Jared considers. “I’ll take the hand,” he decides.
*
Apparently Evanson thinks they’re all little kids, because the first week of camp ends with a pizza party.
“Are you saying you don’t want your pizza?” Debono asks. “Because I will eat your pizza.”
“I’m eating my pizza,” Jared says, scowling and putting a protective arm around it, because he doesn’t trust Debono not to make a play for it. Just because pizza parties are childish doesn’t mean Jared will turn down free pizza. Jared will be dead before he turns down free pizza.
Raf, who’s been picking at his, shoves it over to Debono, shrugging at Jared’s look while Debono crows victoriously. “I can practically see the grease,” Raf says.
“Dude,” Jared says, and then takes a large bite, savouring the hell out of the grease. He earned it, between this morning’s workout and dealing with Marcus. Like he’s been summoned from the pits of douchebag hell by the thought, Marcus sits down across from him while Jared’s got a mouthful of cheese. Jared glares but he can’t tell him to go fuck off. He was raised better than to speak with his mouth full.
He swallows, then says, “You get free pizza for doing jack all? Nice gig.”
“Because it’s not like I make almost a million bucks a year,” Marcus says. “Really desperate for the free pizza.”
“Whoa, big man. So, like, you don’t need this then, right?” Jared asks, reaching over and grabbing one of Marcus’ slices. “Since you’re a millionaire, and we’re just poor schmucks still getting allowances.”
“Jared,” Raf hisses, and Jared ignores him and takes a bite of Marcus’ slice. It’s Canadian, and Jared hates mushrooms, but he suffers through it to make his point, waiting for the legendary Bryce Marcus temper to blow right up at him. He hasn’t got punched yet, but he figures it’s just a matter of time. Maybe he’ll make the local papers.
It looks like it’s coming for a moment, but then Marcus unexpectedly smiles. It’s kind of forced looking, not like the one earlier this week, which was unnervingly genuine. The fake smile is way less disturbing. “Enjoying my pizza?” Marcus asks.
“It’s delicious,” Jared says, grimacing his way through another bite.
“I’m glad,” Marcus says, as sweet as ‘fuck you’.
“Anger management classes going good, then?” Jared asks after he swallows, grinning right back at that forced smile, and that time — that time he gets exactly what he was expecting.
“You trying to get thrown out of here?” Raf asks, when Marcus’ chair grinds with the speed he shoves out of it, stomping right out of the room. Good. No lurking sulker anymore.
Jared shrugs and drops Marcus’ gross slice in favour of his own. “Pretty sure Evanson likes me better than him,” Jared says.
That’s probably not saying much. Now that Jared’s started paying attention, he’s caught Evanson staring daggers at Marcus every time he catches him being useless, which is basically every moment he’s not trading useless for useless and annoying by bugging Jared. Jared would wonder why he doesn’t just kick Marcus out, but then, it’s probably not exactly easy to drop an NHL superstar from your program. All Marcus had to do was show up to double the prestige of this thing. Not like anyone but the guys involved know that he isn’t doing shit.
“Still,” Raf says. “He might leave us alone if you quit baiting him.”
“I’m not baiting him,” Jared protests. “I’m telling him where he’s not wanted.”
Raf gives him a look Jared doesn’t know him well enough to figure out, but he thinks he can fill in the blanks: that’s exactly the point. Not enough wide open doors for him, obviously he finds the one place he’s not wanted and goes there instead, expecting to get welcomed. Well, it’s not fucking happening.
“I’m not just going to lie down like a doormat and let him keep wasting our time,” Jared says. “And I’m sure as shit not going to start fanboying him like he wants.”
Raf shrugs. “If your preferred tactics don’t work against an opponent, adjust them,” he says, which is annoyingly good advice. Not annoying that it’s good advice, just annoying because Jared has a feeling ignoring Marcus until he goes away is going to be a lot more difficult than snapping at him. Snapping at him’s effortless. Ignoring him…that’s a taller order. Jared’s not very good at ignoring the things that annoy him, though he is usually better about keeping his mouth shut about being annoyed. Marcus has hit a level of annoying that makes that basically impossible, though. Jared’s almost impressed at how irritating Marcus has made himself in such a short period of time.
“Well,” Jared says, trying to look on the bright side. “Maybe he’ll forget over the weekend that his sole purpose in life is to bother me like the short-attention spanned goldfish he is and this will all be irrelevant on Monday.”
“Sole purpose in life?” Debono says. “Dude, ego much?”
Jared totally forgot he was there. He’s not exactly a shining personality, and he’s been cramming his face with Raf’s pizza anyway. Hell, he’s wearing Raf’s pizza.
“You have grease on your chin,” Jared says with great dignity, and picks mushrooms off Marcus’ pizza and piles them on his plate while Debono scrubs his face with a napkin and Raf bites back a smile.