Page 4 of Kicking It with the Point Guard

The bee buzzes again, pulling me out of my thoughts. She was so flustered when she left. This must be her phone.

Groaning, I push myself to my feet and round the table. She should have come back for this by now. Did she not realize that it’s missing?

I pick it up, and the name Stripper followed by a wink emoji and a flame emoji flashes across the screen.

I should just turn this in to the front desk and be on my way.

The door bursts open, and the girl from earlier bursts in. “Oh, you have my phone,” she says, cheeks tinged pink.

She rushes around the table, rips it out of my hand, tosses a hurried thank you over her shoulder, then ducks her head and vanishes between the stacks, leaving me alone once more.

She’s cute.

Wait… Where did that thought come from?

I can’t do that. Not again. But her short blond hair and sparkling green eyes smiling at me as she says it’s okay for me to stay and rest flash through my mind.

Clearly, this was her private space, and she just let me, a complete stranger, stay here with her.

Girls act weird around me, blushing and trying to get me to do things with them. What if she’s like—no… I didn’t get that vibe from her.

What am I saying? She hardly paid me any attention at all. She just wanted to use this room, and since I was here and being quiet, she offered to share. I bet all the other rooms were full. That’s all. I don’t have time to think about her, anyway. I’ve wasted too much of my day here.

I shake my head, rounding the table to grab my backpack. I’ve got just enough time to grab a quick lunch and review the plays before my next class.

* * *

“Cam, my man! Come grab a bite!” Oscar, my overgrown best friend, shouts over the din of the cafeteria.

Oscar Cavanaugh plays hockey for Fox Academy, and he’s well-known on and off the ice. There’s a reason his nickname is Caveman.

He’s smiling and chatting with some of the other hockey players, but when he sees me, he punches the arm of the guy next to him, then gets up to meet me.

I pick up a pre-made salad and then get in line for pizza. If Harriet is working the line today, I’ll get an extra slice for free. She has a soft spot for me.

“Did that guy deserve to be punched?” I ask.

“It’s Fraser. He always deserves to be punched,” he says with a grin.

“All right then.”

We talk to each other about pretty much everything and never have to pry for information. Oscar once told me that his team thinks I’m weird, even if they admit I’m good at basketball. But he isn’t bothered by them. Things roll off Oscar pretty easily, and if it doesn’t bother me, then it doesn’t bother him.

I pick a table away from the hockey team. I don’t particularly care for any of them besides Oscar, and he knows that. He plops down across from me, an easy smile on his face.

I’m not much of a people person, but I spent a majority of my childhood with Oscar. My parents were very absent, and when Oscar’s family moved in next door, they kind of unofficially adopted me. I’m an introvert, but he pushed and shoved his way into my life, lovingly forcing me to get out of my comfort zone and live a little; and honestly, it’s been a better life since.

“So,” I say, not one to beat around the bush. “I met a girl today.”

His eyebrows perk up, and his easy smile widens into a full-blown grin. He folds his arms on the table and props his chin up with one hand.

“I thought you had a spring in your step. You haven’t mentioned a girl since—”

“Don’t.”

“Ah… Sorry, man. I wasn’t thinking.” He gives me a sheepish look.

“That’s all right.”

---