Page 41 of Hockey 101

It’s just scary…to put myself out there, I murmur.

I know it is. But you’re not afraid to take risks in other parts of your life. Look at how hard you’ve worked to be a good sports editor. Or how you pulled this whole RA gig together when Bryce bailed on you, Dawn says.

Emily pipes up, It’s better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.

Thank you, Alfred, Lord Tennyson. But that’s never been my life philosophy. More like, it’s better to stay home under an afghan and read a book.

I heard you talking to that woman with the red glasses earlier, says Emily. You told her, ‘We can give it a trial and then you can decide.’ Why can’t you do the same thing with Jack?

Dawn nods. You and Jack are very different, but why does that have to be a bad thing? I like him for you.

Maybe they have a point. I guess it’s decided then—all I have to do now is encourage Jack. But I’m pretty deficient when it comes to feminine wiles. Maybe I can find a book on how to flirt.

12

MELTING THE ICE

ANDY

YOU READY TO take your hockey knowledge to the next level? Jack announces when I arrive at the rink. He’s even more energetic and self-assured. It’s like a nature show: Here we see the college hockey player in his natural habitat, the arena.

I can’t believe I’m doing this, I say.

It’ll be great. You’ll get a sense for what it’s like out on the ice. Jack peers at me. Hey, no glasses tonight.

No, I usually wear contacts if I’m doing some kind of exercise. I assume I’ll get sweaty tonight, although not as sweaty as post-game Jack.

He keeps staring, until I nudge him. Are we going inside?

Jack blinks. Oh, sorry. This way. He leads the way to a back door, which has been propped ajar with a brick.

Nice security system, I mutter. It’s a chilly October night, and I’d rather be snuggled under my afghan, but Jack said this was the only time the ice was available. The arena looks much bigger when it’s empty. The emergency lights emit an eerie glow.

I shiver. This looks like the setting for a horror movie. A couple sneaks into the rink to skate and gets killed by a guy in a goalie mask.

You have a lot of imagination. Jack motions for me to sit beside him on the players’ bench, and we put on our skates. Besides, isn’t the couple usually making out when they get killed?

Is that an offer? the lower half of my body wonders, but I silence it. Yes, because Hollywood likes to teach that teen sex leads to death.

Not my experience, he replies, because of course. He’s undoubtedly had teen sex in multiple rinks and never been murdered.

I tighten up the laces of my ancient figure skates, but one breaks. Oh no.

Don’t worry, I’ve got this. Jack kneels in front of me to knot my lace together. As I take in the sight of him between my thighs, I wonder if he likes to go downtown. Bryce was not a fan, but I insisted on quid pro quo if he wanted blow jobs. Still, Bryce seemed to have some kind of oral sex timer, which was set to: stop before Andy comes.

Jack finishes lacing up my skate and pats my ankle. Good as new. Or as close as we’ll get. When were these skates made? The seventies?

Ha ha. It may be true that I got these skates when I was thirteen, but they still fit. Jack’s skates look brand new and futuristic. Do you get sponsored equipment?

Nah, I’m not that good. Well, sometimes a rep might pass on some sticks for the team to try back in junior. But I’m not sure what happens here. College hockey has a lot more rules.

He opens the bench door and glides onto the ice. He completes a circuit of the ice in the time it takes me to lace up my other skate. As soon as I stand, he’s back.

Let me help you. He holds out his hand, switching from rambunctious puppy to guide dog.

I can do it, I retort. But as soon as I step onto the ice, my arms windmill and I start to fall. Jack catches me and stands me back up.

I glare. Thanks. You have amazing reflexes. Except for the boob grab part. Which felt alarmingly good.

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