Page 12 of Hockey 101

So far, Andy seems like someone who would tell me the truth, even if it hurts. When she’s pissed, she acts pissed. Like last night, when she booted me out of her room. But today at the Student Union Building she looked completely different; smiling and happy. And she’s a nice person too; she’s now helped me out not once, but twice.

Besides, we have something huge in common. Both of us were blindsided by painful breakups. Her writing is so good and so relatable. She described that hollow pain you feel when someone you love decides so casually that you’re not the right person anymore. How shocking it is that they can be in love with you one day and walk away the next. How the breakup cuts into your confidence until you wonder if you’re the damaged one. The best part is that when Andy writes about breakups, the pain sounds epic and important, rather than pathetic.

I can’t tell her any of this though, because it will only remind her that I read her private journal. In my defence, my sisters had diaries, but they were always labelled Keep out and Yes, this means you, Jack.

Swanny watches me pull on my shoes. Why don’t you ask her to the team party we’re having next weekend?

Don’t we have an exhibition game?

Yeah, but we’ll do something afterwards. Lots of our parties are after games. Besides, once the regular season gets underway, we’ll have to buckle down. So, party while we can.

Would Andy enjoy a hockey party? She didn’t seem impressed by the fact I play hockey, so maybe not. I’ll just go with the flow. Of course, that’s how I got into this mess in the first place. But maybe it’s fate—one thing leads to another. I went to Jenny’s room because I was supposed to meet Andy.

I head over to Humphrey Hall. It’s a nice afternoon and everyone is hanging out in the sunshine like they’re trying to absorb every drop. It’s exactly like back home.

I walk past Jenny’s door; it’s open and I glance inside. She’s lying on her bed, scrolling on her phone.

She spots me and smiles. Oh hey, Jack.

She raises herself up onto an elbow and her hair falls over one eye. Her long blonde hair was what caught my attention in the first place. It’s exactly like Cori’s. But Cori never wore shorts that short.

Hey. I stay in the doorway, feeling uneasy just being here again.

Too bad about last night. You should call me another time. I’ll give you my number, she suggests.

Is she serious? She has a boyfriend, and I’m not into cheaters. But I don’t want to be rude, so I smile weakly and shake my head. Sorry, I don’t have my phone.

Jenny’s smile widens. She jumps up and snags a Sharpie from her desk, then slinks right up to me. She pulls me over by the wrist and scrawls her number on my forearm. As she’s doing this, I can see right down her top into the valley between her tits. My dick hardens. My dick is a dick.

You’re even cuter in the daylight, she purrs up at me.

I pull my arm away and mutter something about later, even though I’d rather not see her again. I continue down the hall and knock on Andy’s door.

Enter.

When I walk in, Andy is sitting at her desk and working on her laptop. She spins around in her chair to face me.

She’s wearing grey sweatpants and a black T-shirt that says English Majors Get Lit. Her feet are bare, her glossy hair is pinned up in a messy bun, and her glasses are sliding down her nose. Is it weird that I find Andy in her studying clothes so much hotter than the half-undressed Jenny? Maybe it’s because Andy seems like she’s authentic and nice. Although, that curvy body doesn’t hurt. Never before have I wanted to trace the letters En and it so badly.

Ah, Jack. She jumps up and snags a plastic bag off the floor, thrusting it towards me. Here’s your stuff.

Oh. Thank you so much. I try to edge further into the room, but she’s in the way. Was it a problem to get everything back?

Yeah. I had to stop for five minutes on the way to my own room, so hardship city. She sits back down and pushes her glasses into place with her forefinger. Was there something else?

Ahh, I begin, but my mind blanks. I want to hang out, but Andy clearly wants me to leave.

She makes a half-spin back towards her laptop, but before she can boot me out again, I blurt out, Your room is nice.

She pauses and faces me again. Are you kidding?

Of course not. I point to the afghan draped across her bed. My grandma had a blanket exactly like that. I think she made it.

Well, I crocheted that one. I needed something to do during a long car ride. Are you into granny-core? Andy sounds amused, and I inch further inside.

Not even sure what that is. But it feels cozy in here.

She has stuffed bookshelves, a corkboard of photos, and a pile of pillows on her bed. Last night, I felt comfortable here despite everything that had happened. And based on how the rest of my night went, I wish I could have stayed longer.

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