Taylor skated over to him. "We are not first round picks like you." She said, giving him a playful shove. That was right, drafted 3rd overall by the E...ie Otters in the Ontario Hockey League Bantam draft. At 18, this was his year to get noticed by NHL scouts. It was one of his free days, his only free days, no tests, practices, or dates, though really, this could be considered one.His best friend, Duncan Roloff, skated over. He'd known Duncan since grade 5. It was the same year he'd met Taylor,. She doesn’t imagine the way that she looks in the eyes of others as she walks down the street. She moves with purpose. The only reason why she is walking in the first place is to get somewhere that she feels is important, and naturally, that movement is attractive. Purpose is attractive. The days that pass are merely sections of opportunities for her to make her mark in the world. She throws herself into these sections of opportunity, and she uses them so well, that she makes it look like those. He did, however, notice his sudden intense need for another beer... and then another and another.David felt guilt once again– but only a little– as he left Mister Football slumped over unconscious on the couch. One of the advantages of being a ghost was that you never passed out from too much alcohol. The slight buzz was probably all in Dave’s mind, but there were never any of the bad effects... passing out, puking, the terrible morning after headaches. David left those things with Mister. As Jared drank the coffee and his level of real time cognition improved he got the distinct impression that something was wrong. Jared looked about the room as he took sips from the mug in his hand but still could not work out what it was he should be seeing or NOT seeing. Then it all dawned on him with crystal clarity.It wasn’t that something was wrong it was more like the fact that something was very, very right. What Jared realized was - was that he was not seeing any mess. No half eaten.