GETTING SLAMMED INTO the boards by six-year-olds is how I’ve been starting my mornings. The contrast between my life only a few weeks ago and now is an upsetting revelation.
“How’s the girl? Piss her off yet?”
Coach’s voice drifts out of his office when I pass by after the lessons. He sits at his desk, glasses lowered to the bridge of his nose as he works on his computer. I’m unsure if my teammates have big mouths or if Summer complained about me. Did she tell him about the funeral flowers?
After our swimming session, things settled into an uncomfortable lull. Not initiated by me. I’m not sure what she was embarrassed about. Everyone has off days, and that phone call just happened to cause one of hers. I’d be lying if I said I’m not curious about who called her, though. Could it be that hockey player ex she hates? Do I know him? If so, I’ll happily set him straight so he never calls her again. Her bloodshot eyes and sniffling had sent a prickling feeling to skewer my chest, and I didn’t like it. At all.
“She didn’t drown me. I think that’s a good sign.”
Coach makes a noise in his throat. “Keep it that way. The last thing I need is Dean Hutchins breathing down my neck.”
I take a cautious step into his office. “Have you tried talking to him about reducing my community service hours?”
He finally meets my eyes and the wrinkles on his forehead deepen. “Of course. I asked him at our sleepover after we giggled about our crushes.”
I’ll take that as a no. Coach turns back to the computer screen, dismissing me.
The walk out of the arena and the drive home are the only calm I’ve felt all week. The breeze cools my heated skin, and the evening sky sets a peaceful backdrop. But that feeling is eradicated as soon as I step foot in the house.
My roommates huddle by the kitchen counter. Dylan sees me first and presses a finger to his lips. I spot the green blob on the counter, a phone trapped inside it.
Cole flies past me and gasps in horror. “Fucking asswipes!” He drives his fist forward to smash his phone out of the jello square, but Kian intercepts his punch.
“This took hours, you’re not ruining it. Enjoy the beauty of science.” “Fuck your science, Ishida.” Cole digs out his slimy phone, leaving a
mess everywhere. Messing with Cole is everyone’s favorite pastime, probably because he and Sebastian are the only juniors in the house.
“Good to know this is what you all are doing with your free time.” I grab a drink from the fridge.
“Not free time. These are crucial hours before tonight,” Kian says through a mouthful of jello.
“What’s happening tonight?” I ask, wholly disinterested.
“The toga party? The one our favorite sorority hosts every year? God, where have you been?”
He means his favorite sorority. They treat him like a celebrity because he’s overly generous at their annual car wash. Safe to say they have a mutually beneficial relationship.
“You guys have fun.”
Kian gawks at me. “You have to be joking. It’s Beta Phi. Those girls are like your personal cheerleaders.”
“Can’t. I’m meeting up with Summer later.”
He washes his jello-stained hands in the sink. “Reschedule. It’s time you stop holding the burden of guilt over the Yale thing. It was our fault too.”
It isn’t about guilt. The entire thing just highlighted what I’ve been trying to avoid as captain; that I can’t handle balancing different aspects of my life. Growing up, it was hockey and school, and thanks to my parents that had been balanced for me. In high school, it was grief, which I miserably failed at, and now, it’s my personal life. Over the years, there has only been one constant in my life—hockey. It’s what got me through my teenage years and led me to the top-performing Division 1 team in the NCAA. Ruining my chances to play would be a huge failure.
“Summer is not going to let me reschedule because of a party.” Kian pulls out his phone. “I’ll text her. She likes me better anyway.”
“You have her number?” Thoughts of them hooking up cross my mind, but I can’t even imagine it. Even if it may explain why she hates hockey players. However, if that were the case, I’d expect the hookup to have been a douchier guy on the team, rather than our very own golden retriever.
“Since junior year. We’re friends.”
Of course, they are. I head upstairs for a shower, and by the time I’m out he’s sent me a screenshot of her response.
Okay. I’ll reschedule.
I guess she really does like him better than me.
When I’m halfway down the steps, I pause seeing Kian wearing a toga.
He’s got the golden leaf crown and a brooch tying it together. “You know dressing up isn’t mandatory, right?”
He rushes past me down the steps. “Just giving the girls what they want.
Dylan got you one too.” He points to the toga draped on the banister.
Reluctantly, I head into the washroom to strip out of my jeans and into the white garment. It’s best not to argue when Dylan has a vision for costumes. For Halloween, I was Snow White and they were my dwarfs. That one played out surprisingly well.
We arrive at Beta Phi to a sea of white. I greet a few people playing beer pong in the living room. Kian wanders off as soon as we step over the threshold, and Dylan is pouring Patrón into every passerby’s mouth before he starts chugging another bottle. The frat guys cheer him on, chanting Double D! and I manage to barrel past them. Eli is nowhere to be found as usual, and the juniors are probably smoking outside where I can’t see them.
After a few rounds of beer pong, and watching Dylan manage to sober up then get even more drunk, Kian bumps into me with a gasp. “Shit,” he slurs. “You’re going to hate me for this, but I think you should hide.”
When he tries to shove me out of the kitchen, I stop him. “What are you talking about?”
He swallows, eyes darting around frantically. “Remember how I did that nice thing for you by asking Summer to reschedule?”
I nod slowly.
“Well, it wasn’t so much of me asking as it was telling her you were violently ill.” Seeing my expression, he blanches. “I said it was food poisoning! Nothing too serious. Technically you could have recovered.”
“You lied to her?”
“A little white lie that couldn’t possibly hurt anyone. But for good measure just hide in the bathroom or something.”
“I’m not hiding in the fucking bathroom.”
He lets out an exasperated breath. “Come on! Do it for me. She’s kind of scary when…” His words trail off, and he pales.
Suddenly, an angry brunette stands before me, and I can’t help but stare at her tiny outfit. It’s a white scrap of a dress that has me swallowing. But when her grip on the red solo cup tightens, I’m reminded of my current predicament. “I guess you’re not too violently ill for a sorority party, huh?”
“It’s not what you think,” I say.
Her gaze bounces between my eyes, as if assessing the truth before she lets out a disappointed breath. Summer turns, and Kian lets out a curse before scrambling to go after her. When he pushes past me in a hurry, he trips and empties the sticky liquid from his solo cup all over my bare torso.
 |
THIS WASHROOM SMELLS like candy.
It’s so small I have to cram into the space and nearly knock down the toiletries on the counter. But one good thing about getting a drink spilled on you in a sorority is that the washrooms have everything you need to clean up.
As I’m wiping my abdomen, the doorknob rattles.
“Someone’s in here,” I mutter, but the rattling doesn’t stop. “It’s occupied,” I say louder. Still, whoever it is doesn’t stop. Finally I yank open the door to tell them to fuck off, but a girl trips into the bathroom and right into me.
“OMG!” Her hands slide up my wet abdomen to my pecs. Then she squeezes.
Fucking sororities.
“It’s really you! Totally thought that bitch Bianca was lying, but it’s seriously you!”
“Yeah.” I pry her hands off me. “Come back later. I’m using this bathroom.”
She pulls out of my loose grip and grabs my waist. “Oh, trust me, we can put this bathroom to good use.” She kicks the door closed. “Guess what color my panties are?”
I almost choke on my saliva. That’s one way to get my attention. Though unfortunately for her, I was focused on a different girl tonight. The sliver of hurt that swam through Summer’s eyes when she saw me hit me harder than I expected.
“Look, you seem like a nice enough girl but—”
“Wrong answer,” she interrupts. Her hands travel to the hem of her white dress as she lifts it all the way up. “Correct answer is…”
She’s not wearing any.
I pinch the bridge of my nose to alleviate the tension in my head. I don’t know if I’ll regret this later, but I really need to get out of here. “I don’t even know your name,” I say.
“You always ask the name of every girl you hookup with?”
Well, no, but it seemed like the right thing to say. “I don’t know you.”
“I know you.” That’s all she says, but I don’t budge. “Ugh! Fine. My name is Crystal. What kind of guy asks a girl’s name when she’s getting naked?”
No guy. Ever.
When she comes close, I smell alcohol, and it’s a relief knowing she’s not this insane when she’s sober. Just as I try to politely remove her from my body and place her outside the bathroom, someone knocks.
“We’re busy!” Crystal calls. With her distracted, I manage to squeeze away.
“Sorry, not tonight.”
I don’t hear the rest of her curse when I close the door and head downstairs. I’m fixing my beer-stained toga when I spot Summer in the hallway.
As I weave through the crowd, I notice she’s talking to someone. He steps closer to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. She smiles at him, but it’s small. So small, I know she’s annoyed by the touch.
As I move closer, I hear him mumble something about a drink before he takes her empty solo cup. “I didn’t get your name,” he says.
“Summer. Like the season.”
The guy smiles that douche-y white teeth smile. “Your eyes are radiant like the sun, Summer.”
I hold back my laugh. Is he going to recite a whole god damn novel about her eyes? This guy is seriously embarrassing. To my surprise, she actually giggles, and a blush paints her cheeks before he ducks into the kitchen.
“Summer, like the season?” I muse. “As opposed to what? Summer like the…name?”
She gives me a sideways glance. “Stalking isn’t a good look for you.” “Not stalking. Just came over to see how you were doing, but I guess
Summer, like the season, is doing great.”
She doesn’t find it funny at all. I, on the other hand, can barely contain my laughter.
“You know, I give updates to Kilner about your performance every week. Maybe playing in the final isn’t in the cards for you,” she says deceptively sweetly.
I shouldn’t be laughing. Not when she’s annoyed with me, and definitely not when she has my probation in her hands.
Reeling in my laughter, I take a step closer, and she stays confidently rooted in place. “What can I do to pass?”
“For starters, don’t lie to get out of a session.”
I wince. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know he made up an excuse. When Kian said you agreed to reschedule, I decided to come. I would never lie to you, I promise.”
Her head tilts with contemplation. “I’ll take that with a grain of salt since your promises hold no weight for me.”
“Then let me show you that they do.”
The poet himself reappears with Summer’s drink. “They only had beer.”
I shut my eyes in annoyance. Her eyes were softening and that anger from earlier toned down a few notches. I just need a few more minutes with her.
“Thanks.” I snatch the cup from him, down the drink and shove the empty cup back in his hand. “Now go away.”
I’m towering over the dude and he’s fuming, looking to Summer for something. He doesn’t get the answer he’s looking for because he walks off with a sad nod that makes me feel kind of bad.
“You want to make it up to me?” Summer pulls my attention back to her. She asks the question seriously, but I can’t help but take it suggestively.
How could I not? She watches me in a way that has my abdomen tightening, and her bottom lip is caught between her teeth. The barely-there top of her dress would have me sporting a semi if she wasn’t so mad.
Who am I kidding? I’m still hard, even as she glares at me like she’d rather see me covered in dirt.
I swallow. “Yes.”
My heartbeat changes tempo when she enters my orbit. In this dim light, I can’t tell what she’s thinking but I’m hoping it matches my thoughts. When her hands draw up as if she’s going to drag them up my pecs and hook her arms around my neck, I feel charged with anticipation. There is no way this is happening right now. If this is her way of teaching me a lesson, it’s not a very good one. I’d piss her off again just for the sheer reaction my body erupts with when she’s this close.
But instead of whispering that I should make it up to her in a bedroom or a vacant bathroom, she steps back completely. “Then you better get some sleep tonight.”
The smile she gives me is pure evil, and I have a feeling tomorrow’s going to kick my ass.
