Page 55 of Lucky Sucker

“Maybe that could be something for when I win the next game,” he said. “Or, maybe you could teach me and we could do it together sometime. I heard it’s a good skill, can make your hands more dexterous. Which is always a good thing to have when you’re wielding a hockey stick.”

“As long as you don’t mind being bad at it,” I said with a giggle. “People are always bad at crochet when they start.”

“Except I’m pretty amazing,” he said. “But I’m willing to try. Ok, I think we should go to bed. It’s been—whoa, way too late. Good night, baby.” He followed it up with a big smooch to his phone.

I kissed my phone back, hoping the sound would imitate back at him.

Once we’d hung up, I was filled with thoughts and ideas for where my fan fiction could go. The pieces I’d been writing were based on real people, but since I was getting to know them, I’d started to give them different aspects. They were never called by their names, only their jersey numbers as if I’d been writing in code.

There were also nerves attached to the project because I knew it wasn’t going to be something people would want to read or be part of, especially when it was about them. And Luke was always asking if he could read something I’d written.

Relationships were hard, and so was the idea that me, at nineteen, thinking that relationships were hard was a groundbreaking idea.

I barely slept with anxious spikes poking at my thoughts, and the occasional idea that people were talking about me, gossiping. The only thing I could be sure of right now was the safety of my little space and my crayon colorful world that nobody could touch—at least not until I invited Daddy into it.

* * *

The library on campus was one of my favorite places to read and get work done. All the people there were working, and one of my therapists had mentioned that I should put myself in places where people have similar goals. She also mentioned body doubling, and it had some relevance over my ability to work harder when I thought people were also working.

After the first class of the day, I settled into the library at one of the empty tables closest to the book and furthest from the windows. I hated screen glare from the outside on my laptop, and the eyes that pried as they walked by.

I was still getting used to people looking at me and knowing who I was. My freshmen year had been fun because nobody looked twice at me. I say that with confidence now because I had always had that anxious mindset people were staring at me as if I’d grown a second head, but it didn’t compare to the feeling of actual eyes, like daggers almost.

A thud of books hit the table, startling me from the word document with the ice hockey game report on it. Looking up, Lucy was sighing into the seat across from me. “I’m so glad I saw you,” she said. “I’ve been having an absolutely awful time.”

“Oh no, what’s happened?” I asked, slightly dimming the screen. Although nobody was looking, it was a reflex, and I hated it.

“I’m on the swim team, and I’ve got a rash which is being tested, so they’ve stopped me from going in the water until they find out what it is,” she said, pushing her arm across the side of the table. “I told them it’s not ringworm, and it’s obvious, but like, it’s itchy, and—” She pulled a balled up fist of her cuff into a hand and began rubbing at the raised and red dots on her left forearm.

I knew those all too well, or so I hoped. “Are you stressed?” I asked. “Or anxious?”

“Check and check,” she said. “I told the nurse that as well, but they still want testing.”

“Looks like hives. Have you tried an antihistamine?”

“And anti what?”

“Like an allergy relief table,” I told her. “I’ve probably got some on me. I get bad hay fever and I picked the college nestled in all this nature.” I reached inside my messenger bag. Bloo was staring up at me. I hadn’t been able to tuck him under my t-shirt today, I was already feeling self-conscious. I passed him to the metal strip of antihistamines in the foil pop out tabs. “Yep. Got some.”

“I don’t have any allergies,” she continued. “But if they help, then I’m going to be so freaking happy.”

I handed the packet. “Just take one. In fact, you can have that, I’ve got more at home.”

“The next strawberry shake at the diner is on me,” she said. “Thank you.”

Glancing at the large text books, they seemed quite intense. “What are you studying?”

“She shrugged. I’m trying out a bunch of classes,” she said. “I just want to get a feel for everything on offer. I don’t want to leave feeling like I missed my calling in life. Although, some of the classes have requirements, or whatever.” She waved her hand at the air and rolled her eyes. “And what about you?” She took one of the tablet and washed it down with water.

“Journalism, communications, media, that sort of stuff,” I said. “It’s a lot of fun when you get into it, btu there’s a lot of intense knowledge cramming you’ve got to do.”

“Cramming,” she giggled. “Also, I wanted to come over and see if you found me any cute freshmen on the team you might want to match make me with.”

“You were serious about that?”

With a continuing effort to smile, I knew she was being serious. “Only if you’ve found someone. If not, that’s fine, I don’t want to embarrass myself.”

“I don’t really know them well enough,” I said. “There are like five new freshmen on the team. Are they really the types of guys you want to date?”

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