Page 5 of Secret Puck
The way he says my name is taunting and playful and has my tummy doing weird, excited things.
“Hopefully not if I want there to be any food left to eat,” I say before he can leave.
I should walk away now, but there’s a bizarre chemistry between us and something about him makes me feel the best I have in days. We stand a foot apart, grinning at one another and forcing people to go around us.
He snaps out of it first. “Better get here early for lunch then. That’s when I get in my big meal for the day.”
“Your big meal?” I can’t help but laugh.
“That was nothing. I burned those calories before you woke up this morning.”
“Presumptuous, much? Maybe I’m a runner or a soccer player.”
His gaze sweeps over me slowly and I hold my breath. “Are you?”
“N-no.”
He laughs and takes a step away. “Noon. That’s what time I eat lunch, in case you want to get here early or join me.”
He gives me his back before I come up with a witty response. I can’t decide if that was flirty banter or him really asking me to have lunch with him, but I figure it’s best not to dissect it too much and not to show up at noon. I might be ready to sing all the single girl anthem songs, but I am not ready to start planning my schedule around cute boys. No matter how very,verycute they are.
The only thing I’ve made any sense of from my breakup with Bryan is that I need to figure out who I am and what I want, make my own friends. Over the two years Bryan and I dated I grew farther and farther apart from my other friends. To the point, I really don’t have any good girlfriends to call up and cry on their shoulder.
This is my fresh start.
I find English Composition easy enough. It’s a big class in a room with long rows of seats, many of which are already taken.
I take a spot in the middle trying not to appear too eager or too much like a slacker. I don’t mind English, but I’m not a fan of being called on in class either.
After English I have algebra and I’m not quite as confident about where the building for it is located. The Valley campus is pretty big, and the number of people walking around makes it hard to get my bearings. I slip my thumbs around the straps of my backpack and fall into the crowd of students, hoping I look like I fit in and don’t have FRESHMAN stamped on my forehead.
I’m backtracking to find Moreno Hall when my front pocket vibrates. I pull out my phone and move off the sidewalk onto the grass, so I don’t get trampled.
Adam:Get lost yet?
I glance up at the building that is most definitely not Moreno Hall.
Me:Of course not, but say I was looking for Moreno Hall…
Adam:Hang a left just past the engineering building, it’s on the corner—big fancy-ass looking building, can’t miss it.
A minute later he follows up.
Adam:Find it?
Me:I would have found it on my own eventually.
Adam:I’m sure.
Hurriedly, I pocket my phone and head to Moreno Hall.
By the end of the day, I’m exhausted but even more excited about the semester. All of my classes seemed okay, I met a few girls on our hall, and Ava and I spent the late afternoon walking around campus and soaking in all the first-day excitement.
I don’t even think about Bryan until we get back to the dorm and I’m lying on my bed listening to Ava and Trent share first-day stories. I consider texting him for all of a millisecond. I don’t hate him. Maybe I should. It’d probably be easier to get over him that way, but despite the awful way he ended things, I don’t totally blame him for taking a great opportunity. And I’m working on not blaming him for not even wanting to try to make it work. Of course, I don’t text him. Mostly because I don’t think I can handle hearing how awesome everything is on his end. Not when the most notable part of my day was watching a table of jocks devour food like they hadn’t eaten in months.
Over the next few days, I don’t have any more hockey team run-ins. Which might be in part because Ava and I stock up on noodles and have lunch in our room most days and when I do go to the dining hall, I avoid the back table. My brother’s teammates all seemed nice, but I’m not interested in continually being referred to as Adam Scott’s baby sister.
Adam texts me every day to check in and invites me over to his place to hang out. I finally give in and agree to dinner Thursday night.
