Page 52 of Collide
“There’s not one person on campus who doesn’t know who you are.” Kian barely finishes his sentence when we hear my name.
Eric Salinger, captain of the Yale hockey team, appears. “Never thought I’d see you guys here unless you had to be.” He laughs. “But it’s good I didn’t get to apologize in person for trashing your school. My guys won’t ever pull something as reckless as that ever again.”
Eric’s a stand-up guy. Like me, he was drafted when he played for A leagues, so his sole focus has always been hockey. His team, on the other hand, are a bunch of air-headed morons.
“Still pretty fucked up of you. Cap’s been paying for that shit for months,” says Kian.
Eric shakes his head in pity. “Look, if I knew I would have stopped it. That shit doesn’t fly with me.”
“Do dirty plays fly with you?” My hand on Kian’s chest prevents him from moving forward. The last thing we need is for someone to see him getting mouthy and retaliate.
“You’re good, but your guys still need to learn a lesson,” I say.
A hint of amusement lifts his lips. “I’m certain you’ll make sure of that at the final.”
“You think you’ll make it?”
“It’s looking that way. Don’t know about you though.”
“Guess we’ll see.” My parting words are more of a courtesy than anything. He definitely knows that we've won nearly every game this season.
We head to the bright yellow house on the corner of the street that screams sorority. Walking up to the white wooden porch, I knock on the pink door. The girl who opens it is bright-eyed and smiling but her posture is stiff.
“Hey, one of your friends took my phone last night. I’m going to need it back.”
Her perfect smile doesn’t waver. “I’m sorry, that’s not possible. Kappa sisters don’t fraternize with Dalton cronies.”
Dylan pushes forward. “Look, I’m not trying to get a rash here so if you just hand us the phone, we can head back.”
“Dylan?” A girl from inside charges toward him. “You never called!”
Dylan mutters a curse. I turn to the girl who opened the door as Dylan apologizes profusely to the one he ghosted. “See, it is possible. Now, can you just get her?” I ask.
“What’s her name?”
“Bethany.”
The girls give each other a look. “Wait here.”
I think I might have gotten Bethany in trouble. Kian and Eli climb the steps to stand behind us, and that’s when we notice the girls staring at us from the windows. I wave, making them scramble behind the curtains.
“I don’t know any hockey player—Aiden?” Bethany curses and then pulls me to the side. “You need to leave. Now.”
I pull my arm from her hold. “I need my phone.”
“What phone?”
I show her the flashing location pin on Dylan’s phone indicating mine is in this house. “That’s probably what’s been buzzing all morning,” she mutters, running a hand through her hair. “Look, I’m on thin ice here and they’re going to kick me out if they find out I was drinking last night. If I get your phone, will you make an excuse for me?”
“You’re not exactly in a position to negotiate,” I say.
“Do you want your phone or not?”
“Are you blackmailing me?”
She shuts her eyes in frustration. “Please?”
I concede, and she heads upstairs. Her sorority sisters cross-examines me. “How do you know Beth?”
