Page 1 of Pucking the Enemy

Chapter 1

Hazel

“No jersey tonight?” Seb asked as he appeared in my doorway, his dark curls still damp from his shower. My best friend wore his usual T-shirt and jeans, and we were making our way to the after-party for the hockey game he’d just played, hosted at some random frat house. We had been friends for so many years, and I had attended so many of his games and related events, that it would feel weird if I missed one—even though my back-to-school reading list was insane, and I needed to dedicate some serious hours to studying.

Seb’s team, the Hawking Hawks—real original name, I know—had just dominated over the Glenfield Giants, so he was in a celebratory mood. We had swung by my dorm so I could grab a few things before going to the after-party together. Since the game had been right after my classical literature class, I had taken my book bag with me, and the last thing I wanted to do was haul it around a party.

“The jersey was dirty, so I had to put it in the wash. Surely, this will do? It’s the team colors, after all.” I glanced in the mirror at my outfit. The dress I had chosen was princessy, whimsical, and possibly childish—knee length and blue, with puffy tulle sleeves.

Usually, I wore one of Seb’s jerseys. He had given me quite a few over the years, and they were pretty comfy to wear. The one I’d been wearing the most during the current season had to be cleaned because I’d accidentally spilled ketchup down it during the last game. That left my dress choices somewhat open to interpretation. So, the flouncy, blue dress it was.

I loved it.

“You look amazing. It’ll do,” Seb said, leaning against the wall, his eyes raking over me.

“Thank you!” I beamed at him, grabbing my purse that was shaped like a cloud and slinging it over my shoulder.

“Maybe you look too amazing,” he muttered as he trailed after me. I rolled my eyes. Sebastian and I had been friends for so long that I was used to his overprotective nature. He closed the door to my dormitory, checking it had locked before following me. Dallas House was one of the fanciest dorms at Hawking University. The security was amazing—so much so that I often didn’t bother locking my door. When Seb had discovered that, I had been subjected to a three-hour-long lecture on personal safety.

“No such thing as looking too good!” I told him as I strode out the door, going downstairs and into his waiting silver truck. I had spent an extra twenty minutes applying blue shimmer and glitter to my eyelids. If I wanted to look like a fairy princess, then that was my goddamned prerogative.

“Put your belt on!” he insisted as he hauled himself into the driver’s seat.

“So overprotective,” I said, rolling my eyes. The entire cab smelled like Seb—rich cherry wine. That smell was comforting and familiar to me.

“I have to be, considering you can hardly walk in a straight line!”

“I can!”

“You tripped over thin air and spilled Coke on the mascot!”

“That was one time!”

Seb snorted. “One time too many, Hazelnut.”

By the time we got to the frat house twenty minutes from campus, the party was already in full swing. Loud music blared, and people loitered in front of the house, drinks in hand.

“We’re always late to these things,” I said as Seb parked his truck on a nearby street.

“That’s because you take so long getting ready. Did you really need to take ten minutes just to apply glitter to your face?” Seb asked in a good-natured voice.

“I only applied it to my eyelids, and it’s blue, so it’s all in team spirit!” I insisted with a laugh, unbuckling my seat belt and climbing out of the truck.

He laughed. “Well, I appreciate the support.”

The house was packed, and that was saying something because it was one of the larger frat houses. Everywhere I looked, there were people standing around in small groups and socializing, dancing, or getting grabby with one another.

“I’m going to go find Dylan. Are you okay?” Seb asked loudly, so I could hear him over the music. Dylan was his teammate, and he had mentioned discussing something to do with an upcoming game before finding me again.

“Don’t take too long,” I shouted over the music.

“I’ll try and be quick. You know how Dylan can be. If I don’t listen to him bitch about how we failed during the game, he’ll never shut up.”

I nodded; that sounded about right. “I’ll go grab us some drinks.”

“Sealed cans only, Hazelnut!” he shouted as we parted. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Seb was paranoid that I would accept a drink from some random guy and end up drugged to the skies. Ever since we went to our first high school party, he had implemented a “sealed cans only” rule. If I didn’t open the drink myself, or at the very least, see it being opened, I wasn’t to touch it.

Squeezing through the bodies, I made way to what I believed was the kitchen. Luckily, most houses had somewhat similar layouts, so it wasn’t hard to figure out, despite there being an astronomical number of people shoved into the relatively small space.

---