Page 58 of Rookie Season
“Um, I can see that.” Cora smirks at me, bringing her hands up to smooth a strand of auburn hair that escaped her slicked-back bun. “I was asking you if you wanted to grab some dinner with me and a couple of friends. We’re going for sushi.”
We both just finished up teaching classes for the day, and the invite makes me smile. “I love sushi. That would be great.”
What I don’t add aloud is that this is extra good timing because my roommates aren’t home until tomorrow.
Going for sushi this evening will be a welcome distraction from the constant thoughts about Halloween night that have been swirling in my mind since the boys left.
“Yay!” Cora links her arm through mine. “You’ll love my friends, I’m sure.”
The sushi place is just a couple of blocks away, so we walk there together, Cora babbling away about her friends and her upcoming audition while I listen contentedly.
When we reach the hole-in-the-wall restaurant, Cora leads me through the narrow, dimly lit space to a back corner booth where a group of girls are already assembled, most of them probably a couple of years older than me.
“Guys, this is Ally,” she announces with a gesture in mydirection. “She’s also a dance teacher, and she just moved here recently. So, she needs friends.”
“Well, that’s one way to introduce me,” I say.
Cora smirks. “True, though, isn’t it?”
“Hi,” one of the girls, a blonde, says brightly as she shimmies over to make room for me on the bench seat. “I’m Bea, and please excuse my friend Cora’s big mouth.”
“Gladly,” I reply with a grin as I slide into the booth.
“She’s a weirdo, but we love her, anyway,” a pretty girl with box braids in a Berkeley sweatshirt pipes up. “I’m Mira, by the way.”
I’m pleased when much of the evening continues this way. We order an assortment of rolls and sashimi, and as we eat, everyone laughs and jokes together easily. The girls are clearly close friends who are comfortable with how they fit into their group, teasing and making fun of each other—and themselves—in a way that feels good natured, with no mean undertones.
It’s the type of group I could see myself fitting into. I adore the guys, but it’s really nice to have some female company again, too. I was always a girls’ girl until all of my friends back in Georgia stopped speaking to me—something I can’t believe I confessed to Noah the other night.
I had a moment of hesitation where I was worried he’d judge me or think I was being dramatic, but he was really sweet. More than sweet, in fact…
“So where do you live, Allegra?” Mira asks as she swipes a dynamite roll with her chopsticks.
“Pacific Heights,” I answer, pouring more soy sauce into my ramekin.
Mira nods in clear appreciation. “Ooh, nice. I have a friend who lives in that area. She’s a grad student at Berkeley, but writing her dissertation right now. She’s renting inthis really cool building with all these industrial loft apartments. It’s gorgeous, I wish I could afford to live there.” She frowns, like something annoying just popped into her head. “Although she lives right underneath a bunch of rowdy guys, so she’s had a couple of sleepless nights from their parties.”
I bite down on my bottom lip as I remember Penn mentioning the girl from downstairs giving him hell after our last party for the noise interrupting her late-night studying. Plus, Mira’s description of her friend's building also sounds eerily familiar—and there aren’t a lot of buildings like it in our area.
“I think that might be my roommates,” I admit with a grimace. Every mouth around the table falls open.
“Shut up!” Cora proclaims. “I’ve known you for, like, a month now and you’ve never mentioned you live with a bunch of guys.”
I shrug. “They all play for the San Francisco Lions. I went to college with one of them.”
“So not just any guys, but professional hockey players?” my friend practically squawks.
“Yup.”
“I’m going to need names,” Bea demands, reaching for her phone, clearly about to google them all.
I shake my head, laughing. “Noah Downsby, Penn Matthews, Archibald Fisher.”
As the girls start squealing over my “certified hottie” roommates, Cora leans towards me, her brows arched. “You are a serious dark horse, Ally, you know that?”
This makes me laugh. “They’re just regular dudes—loud, messy, and smelly, like any other guys.” But even as I say the words, I know they’re not true. I haven’t paid attention tothe way Penn and Fisher smell, but Noah always smells incredible.
“Have you ever hooked up with any of them?” Bea asks, eyes wide.
