Page 9 of Thrown for a Loop
Ethan combs his hair in the mirror. “Nope. You gotta sneak it out of the dining hall.”
The shower door pops open, revealing Stephan, who’s as pale as a vampire and probably weighs only ninety pounds. “You’re not supposed to take food out with you, but everybody does it anyway.”
“Good tip. See you in fifteen.” He grabs his skate bag and shoulders it. On his way out of the building, he passes Joon-ho sitting on the steps. The boy pops to his feet. “Are you going over? Everyone else is so slow.”
“Sure. Come on.”
A flash of gratitude passes through the kid’s dark eyes, and he follows Chase down the steps. “Do you have a roommate?”
“Nope. Living it up in a single.”
“Lucky.Ethan snores.”
“Ah. Look on the bright side—snoring is better than stinky farts. My freshman roommate ate lots of dried apricots. I left the windows open even in the winter.”
Joon-ho cracks a smile. “I guess they have to give you a single or you wouldn’t work here.”
Think again.Everything about living on a college campus is worlds better than trying to live at home in Minnesota for the summer. The all-you-can-eat hot breakfasts, for example. It’s worlds better than trying to scare up a meal in his father’s neglected kitchen. Chase has been more or less fending for himself since freshman year of high school.
Then there’s the sturdy lock on the dorm room door, which is worlds better than having his drunk father slam into his room at all hours with complaints and aggressions.
He even likes the extra-long twin mattress, which fits his six-foot-two frame.
“Where do you compete?” Joon-ho asks as they cross the green campus. “I never heard your name before.”
He chuckles. “Yeah, I haven’t entered a skating competition since I was twelve. These days I play hockey. Coach Pat’s brother is my coach.”
Joon-ho gives him the side-eye. “Wait, you’re not even askater?”
“All hockey players are skaters, my dude.”
“It’s not the same thing. Do you do triple jumps?”
“Not a chance,” Chase says, holding the rink door open for him.
He groans. “Then what good are you at a figure skating camp?”
“For triples? None,” Chase admits. “But I’m fast. I’m fearless. I’m as serious an athlete as you’ll ever meet. I’m also great in the weight room, if you’re into that.”
That perks the kid up. “Can you help me build muscle? It doesn’t matter how much I eat. I just stay this way.”
Chase eyes the kid’s lean frame. “More protein, for starters. And we’ll look at your workout…”
He forgets to finish the sentence, because Zoe is seated in a sun patch on the bleachers, under a skylight, her hair shining like an angel’s. Her thick braid falls heavily over one shoulder, and she’s worrying the end of it between two fingers. But it’s the look on her face that stops him in his tracks. Earbuds in again, she’s listening to something. And she’s listening with her whole soul.
Without even realizing it, he’s steering himself in her direction.
Joon-ho stops him with a tug on his elbow. “You can’t just sit with Zoe.”
“Why not?”
“Because she’sZoe,” the kid whispers with clear exasperation. “She’s, like, royalty.”
“Even royals need friends, kid.” He walks over. “Morning.”
She looks up, startled. “Hi?”
He sits down and waves Joon-ho onto the bench. “What are we starting with? My schedule saystakeoff clinic. And that’s cool and everything. But I have to wonder how many layers Coach Pat wants me to take off?” He shimmies a little, like an exotic dancer.
