Page 4 of Voices

“Hey. Are you ok? You kind of zoned out on me,” Benji says, bringing me back to the present.

“Yeah. Just tired, I guess.”

Chuckling, he holds out a hand to help me up off the floor.

“How did you even get in here? I locked the door.”

“A master never shares his secrets,” he says smiling at me.

Shaking my head, I make my way to my bed. Sitting down, I lean back against the headboard. Benji follows and sits shoulder to shoulder.

Looking over at him, I watch him play with a loose thread on my comforter.

“Why Gannon University? You could get into any college with how good you are at hockey. Yet you pick one less than two hours from here?”

Looking at me, he starts counting them off on his fingers.

“One, it’s one of the top schools I want to play for. Two, they’ve had recruits watching me for the last couple of years. And three, they were one of the first to offer me a spot on their varsity hockey team from the start.”

I’m about to ask what I am supposed to do when he holds up a hand, stopping me.

“Plus, Lily told me they had one of the best Fine Arts programs in the country.” Lily’s my best friend.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” he laughs, ruffling my hair. “I can see it now, the crowd screaming my name as I win the game, the ladies fightingto get in my bed, and the jealous looks I’ll get from the team. Yeah, it’s going to be great.”

That sounds good for him, but I’m not sociable. And I hate talking to new people.

“Sounds…fun.”

“Gannon University will be amazing, you’ll see!” He smiles widely.

I hope so.

Chapter Two

Shane

Present

Three years later

“Go long!”

I’m about thirty yards from Matt in the quad on campus, but the idiot is determined to show off. So, I start running backward, yelling at him to throw the damn ball already.

And because he’s a hockey player and not a quarterback, it’s thrown short and off to the right.

Grumbling, I run forward, keeping my eye on it.

“Watch out!” Ryder calls out.

Right as his words hit my ears, I collide with someone.

We land with a thud, their body breaking my fall.

“Shit, sorry about...”

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