College newspaper beat writer Cameron Evans wants nothing more than to be crowned editor-in-chief, but she gets more than she bargained for when she meets the subject of her latest article; the brash, stubbornly aloof new star hockey player, Luce Fl...
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TWO HOURS AND THREE FLAT, LUKEWARM NATTY LIGHT'S LATER, I weave my way through a jam-packed Hockey House.
The main floor shakes with heavy EDM bass and raw adrenaline. Literally everyone is sweating, holding solo cups above their heads to avoid spillage. One of the seniors last year decided to paint all the walls Grizzly green (for team spirit), which only serves to make the house oddly moody with the lights dimmed low. I peer through the smoke-thickened air, searching for a tether in this maze of students.
Maya was right – this is the kickoff party of the semester.
As I shuffle towards the back of the house, I nearly collide with a group of girls attempting to raise a shot-ski in unison. More vodka finds its way to the floor than their mouths, but not a single girl notices (or if they do, they aren't bothered).
I don't envy the freshman who will inevitably spend tomorrow morning mopping.
Across the room, I catch sight of Maya cooking yet another frat brother in beer pong to a chorus of cheers. I haven't seen Ren since he ducked off into the crowd to dance with Abby, and I don't need to be a genius to figure they're probably hooking up in a bathroom somewhere.
In the ocean of people, I find the closest thing there is to land and sidle up to the makeshift bar, asking Tim Rukowski – men's hockey's best sniper and resident bartender – for another beer. We exchange mindless small talk, most of which I can't hear over the music but nod along to anyway. Tim compliments me on my outfit; a neon cropped shirt that hugs my body and little too tightly and black-wash jeans.
It's very much not my style, but the few lingering looks I've received are validation of Maya's work, at least.
Then, like a lighthouse beacon in the distance, my eyes land on Steph Dupont. She glides down the staircase at the back of the house flanked by a couple teammates, all bombshell looking as usual in her bodysuit and tight pants. Her blonde hair cascades down her spine like softened honey. It's the first time I've actually looked at her in months, and when she tilts her head back and laughs at something Taylor Ruck tells her, my heart picks up speed.
"Come back to me, McDreamy. I think you're flatlining."
My eyes snap towards Maya, who has materialized next to me. As soon as the moment began, it's over.
When I look back, Steph has disappeared into the throngs of people.
I roll my eyes and take a heady swig of beer. "I'm just...thinking."
"About?"
"I don't know. These plastic cups and the poor, innocent turtles," I grumble.
Maya's lips twitch up in that way they always do when she knows I'm deflecting. "In that case, you should join my Global Change Biology elective."
"I just want—" I sigh, tugging my fingers through my hair as I filter through my thoughts. An explanation, another chance, to make out, the truth. I settle on, "—closure."
