Page 38 of Collide
In case you couldn’t tell, we lost. Bad.
Disappointment clogs the locker room air. When I faced-off against Brown University’s centerman, I managed to get the puck in our possession except poor communications and unfortunate timing muddied the play, and Sebastian fumbled my pass, causing a turnover. Brown’s counterattack from their forward left us scrambling to catch up. Our defensive coverage crumbled like a termite-infested foundation after that, and Brown capitalized on power plays and netted two goals.
“Crawford’s too busy making sure he looks pretty for his next photo shoot,” says Tyler Sampson.
The energy drink ad let Kian stay in school, but it meant getting ragged on for months. Especially since Slink renewed the ads and one of the juniors saw the poster at a store in Providence.
“Fuck off, Sampson,” sneers Dylan, who’s only trying to get on my good side because he got ejected for unsportsmanlike conduct.
“He’s just jealous you’re prettier than him,” whispers Kian.
I shrug him off and turn to Kilner. “We can win the quarter final. Today’s loss was a one-off.”
“One-off or not, we can’t afford to lose to Yale,” Sampson aims a sharp eye at me.
“That’s enough.” Coach steps forward. “Yale is tough, but with the right changes we can win.”
“What kind of changes?” Kian dares to ask.
“No more parties. No more drinking.” Coach glares at Dylan, who slumps on the bench. “No more girls.” A chorus of groans erupt from the guys, and I don’t even recognize when my own leaves me. Except everyone else does, because Coach eyes me suspiciously, and Eli snorts. “Those are my orders. Your captain will enforce them. Now, get the hell out of here.”
I’m fine with rules and great with discipline. Having self-control comes naturally, and I thrive on delayed gratification. Except where Summer Preston is concerned. After having her pressed against me in the shower, I’ve had a difficult time thinking about anything else. I even Googled serial killer tendencies because I’m sure smelling someone's hair is a fucking weird thing to do. But hers is different. It's soft and smells like sweet peaches.
I don’t even like peaches.
It’s bad, and I need my mind off her, but with Kilner’s new rules that isn’t happening anytime soon.
“Theno more partiesthing really has you upset, eh?” Dylan and Kian snicker as they pass me.
I flip them off and slip into my truck. Without a distraction, I have the foolish urge to see an angry girl tonight. I just have to find her first. Which proves to be a difficult task when she doesn't answer my texts. Fortunately, Amara is in a helpful mood and tells me Summer’s at the library. It’s finding which one that’s the issue.
A thorough and exhausting search later, I spot long hair and a pale pink sweater in the quiet study area. The sound of the chair being pulled out drags Summer’s attention to me. She assesses the rain sprinkled across the shoulders of my gray hoodie. She brings her attention back to her work.
“Don’t you have a game?” she finally asks.
The reminder of the loss feels less painful when I’m with her. “It was earlier. I came here to study.”
She nails me with a skeptical look. “You never study in the library.”
“Needed a change of scenery.” I shrug. But she’s right. I prefer the chaotic nature of the house. Libraries were too quiet for me.
“So you came to the farthest library on campus?” she presses.
“Took me three tries.”
“For what?”
“To find this one.”
“The others didn’t have what you were looking for?”
I smile. “Not even close.”
She waits for more, but she isn’t going to get it. I’ve been doing a lot of things I don’t understand lately, so I’ve stopped trying to analyze them. “You can ask me anything you want. Show me all your data sets.”
She resumes typing, brushing her hair from her face. “I can’t.”
“You don’t have any more questions?”
