Page 20 of Stick It
I arch an eyebrow in return. He, along with the rest of the team, have been scrutinizing my every move, every pass, for nearly two weeks now. He knows what I can do. He knows I’m not going to be warming the bench all year—he’s just in fucking denial.
“It’s a bridge we’ll cross when we come to it,” he states with finality.
I shake my head, not surprised yet finding myself disappointed all the same. I’d hoped he was better, but perhaps I read him wrong.
“What about tonight?” Finn interjects, clearly focused on the more pressing issue. “Who gets the living room?”
Grabbing my blanket from the floor, I snatch the bowl of popcorn from Finn’s greedy fingers, all the while glowering at him. “Living room is all yours,” I tell him before marching toward the stairs. They’ve already ruined my peaceful night.
As I approach Ethan, I slow, deliberately meeting his gaze. My voice is low as I stab him with my words. “Excellent decision making,Captain.”
I brush past him and up the stairs. However, as I reach the top, he calls my name. I turn slowly, finding him standing at the bottom of the steps, his silhouette cast in shadow from the lights behind. “We’re hosting a party here next Friday after the roster is announced. Just wanted to be a goodroommateand let you know.”
I scoff internally. Yeah, right. A good roommate would haveasked.
He turns away, but stops. “Oh, and as your captain, attendance is mandatory.”
Pasting a smile on my face, my tone is acerbic as I respond, “Can’t wait to celebrate my new position as a Steelhawk.”
I only get a brief moment of satisfaction, as his expression clouds over, before I turn my back to him and hurry to my room.
After a week of being gawked at like I’m the latest zoo animal, I decided to skip the cafeteria for lunch on Friday afternoon. Wide eyes and whispers have followed me everywhere all week. I knew to expect it once the semester started, but that doesn’t make it easier to adjust to.
Especially with the new addition ofBench Bunnythat I’ve heard multiple people whispering when I walk past or when they are sittingright behind mein class.
The first time I heard the dickwad two seats away from me mutter those words in my sports marketing and branding class, I nearly stabbed him in the eye with my pen.
I’d zoned out the rest of that class, too busy cursing out the fucking puck bunnies who interrogated me at lunch. Naturally, they’d be the ones to spread such bullshit. Whatever. Once the season starts, everyone here will realize I’m not here to ride the bench. And I’m sure as hell not here to bag myself a Steelhawks idiot for a boyfriend—or husband.
Anyway, I’ve had enough of the staring and the whispering and the goddamn name-calling for one week, so instead of subjecting myself to more of it in the cafeteria, I grab a sandwich from the on-campus shop and decide to explore a little. I have yet to venture away from the athletics area where the sports center, arena, and the building with all my classes are situated,but as I walk, I remember that there is an entire campus beyond the athletic department.
With all the sports-related stuff being contained to the east side of campus, sometimes it feels like it’s just us here. But the farther west I head, the more the view around me changes. Gone are guys in sweats and team jackets. No girls wearing tight spandex or people juggling backpacks and oversized duffel bags weighed down with sports gear.
Instead, preppy kids wear shirts and ties, girls in plaid and Mary Jane’s, their backpacks swinging from both shoulders and books clutched against their chests. There are Goth kids dressed in all black, smoking what is most definitely weed under a tree. Two students walk past, and I overhear part of their conversation about what clubs they are going to sign up for this year.
I might only be a quarter mile from the sports center but it’s like I’ve stepped into an alternate universe.
One where sports don’t come before classes. Where students’ days aren’t so bogged down with practices and team meetings and gym sessions that they have time for hobbies and extracurricular activities.
For the first time all week, I inhale and relax.
There’s something reassuring about knowing I can walk five minutes away and enter a whole new world. One where no one knows who I am or belittles me for what I’m attempting to do, even though it’s having absolutely no recourse on their lives, so why the hell do they even care?
Sometimes, I wonder what my life would be like if I weren’t so hockey-obsessed. What clubs would I join? Who would my friends be? Life would probably be a hundred times easier, but no matter what I’ve had to endure, the challenges I’ve had to face, and hardships I’ve overcome, I wouldn’t change a single second of it.
It’s nice to have a break from the hockey ecosystem, but hockey is who I am. It’s in my blood. I’d be lost without it.
I wander aimlessly around the campus, enjoying the bright early September day until, eventually, I come across a tall, old building with stone steps and columns on either side of a large wooden door. Above it, engraved in stone, is writtenBlackstone University Library.
There’s a library in the sports center for athletes, but I haven’t stepped foot in it yet—for obvious reasons. However, casting a glance around, I ascend the steps and enter the historic building.
The door shuts with asnick,and silence greets me. Heavenly, blissful silence. Before me is a wide, open space filled with individual and group study tables. Rows of bookshelves line the sides and back of the room, with a sweeping staircase along both side walls leading up to a balcony and second floor where I catch a peek of more tables and bookshelves.
A reception desk is off to my right, a petite, auburn-haired girl with oversized glasses sitting behind it. Her head is down, reading a book, but she looks up at the sound of someone entering.
She gives me a bland smile before glancing down again, but immediately, her head snaps back up, her jaw parting. I’m instantly on edge.
“Holy crap,” she murmurs breathlessly. Her honey-brown eyes are wide as she pushes her glasses up her nose, as though that will help her see better.
