Page 11 of Lucky Sucker

“It’s fine, really. I’m used to people seeing me and then just forgetting I was there,” I grumbled out. One thing my therapist had told me was to stand straighter and look at people when I spoke, it should help project my voice and give me confidence in speaking.

“You wanna go grab a coffee and I’ll let you pick my brain about anything.”

“I’m—” I looked up at him, the sunlightin his eyes, hitting just right. How could I say no to that look? “Sure. I have like an hour or so. Or fifteen minutes, however long you have.”

He nodded and continued to hold that gorgeous smile I knew people swooned over, and today, I was going to be one of them, right here on the paving, my entire body would drop lack a sack and all I’d remember was that he’d smiling my direction.

We walked to the center of campus where the main cafeteria was. I barely said a word on the walk over, he seemed to be doing damage control with me, which meant I wasn’t imagining things, and he was cold towards me when we were introduced.

The cafeteria was quiet given most students hadn’t moved in yet. They would all be arriving soon though, and then this place would be packed at all times. I wouldn’t miss it though, everything came with salad garnishing, and that was a big nope for me.

Sat at a table with coffees, Luke had a large chocolate pastry while I was still reeling from the verbal confrontation at the humanities building.

“I’m kinda surprised I hadn’t seen you around at any of the games last season,” he said. “You know a lot about the team.”

I nodded, but realized he couldn’t read my mind, and I had to use words. “I tried to attend as many games as I could.”

“Do you skate?”

“Oh no, I’d probably go into the splits and break both my legs.”

Luke laughed. I’d made him laugh. The earth needed to desperately open and swallow me whole. Please. “We’re gonna have to get you on the ice, you know. Someone is my business class once said, how can you talk about the market if you don’t experience it directly, talking about being more than just financially invested, but also emotionally. It’s whatever, not the point. But you need to feel the ice, see how fast we really go.”

“It’s—it’s dangerous though. I’ll stay by the sidelines and watch, well, behind the glass.”

He broke off the edge of his chocolate croissant and shoved it in his mouth, getting pastry flakes all over the table and up his t-shirt. “I’m not asking you to take part in a game, because that’s not for the weak. People would kill to get on the ice with us.”

“I’m not a killer,” I said.

He laughed again, pounding a fist on the table. “I really misjudged you. You’ve got a subtle humor, I love it.”

“Thanks, I guess.” My stomach knotted, I drank some of my coffee, hoping I wasn’t going to explode on the seat because being this anxious and adding caffeine was often not the best mix.

“When classes start next week and we get practices scheduled, I want you to be coming over and observing so I can introduce you. I’m assuming the Orcas are still getting a full page in the paper.”

I didn’t know the exact page layout or word counts, so I nodded and tried to look like I knew what I was talking about. “I know my first write-up is going to be about you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah. The new captain, where you plan on taking the team this season, and how you’re going to get there,” I said. They were questions I had, burning to be asked, but I hadn’t prepared a thing, so they’d have to wait. “If you have any time free next week, we can do an interview style thing then.”

He nodded. “Let me give you my number. We can text about it. And I want to run some things by you about social media stuff.”

I quickly shook my head. “Oh, no, I’m not on social media.” Except for an account I had on a fan fiction website where I posted some of my writing.

“It’s just ideas. We have a social media guy for the team, but you’re—” he gestured at me.

I didn’t know what he was gesturing at first, and then I saw the pride pin on my jacket, his hand had clearly pointed to it, but before I could double check, he was going in for another bite of his pastry. Now, I had more questions, but not for the paper, for him. I didn’t know what he meant by it, and too much time had passed, I couldn’t ask him.

“Here is my number,” he said, turning his phone around on the counter showing his details. “I’m serious about getting you on the ice. Even if you hate it, it’ll be good for the socials. Right?”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Also, don’t worry about skates, you can borrow some,” he said.

After the exchange, I was left wondering what he wanted with me and his social media account. I didn’t have a following, I was a nobody. A nobody with a pride pin, and then the question seemed to answer itself. He was using me to appeal to the LGBTQ+ community on campus, not like I’d ever attended one of the meetings they held.

6. LUKE

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