Power Plays & Straight A's

by Eden Finley

  There are a few people dotted around the room who don’t come to a complete standstill at Foster’s arrival, and my attention catches on one of them as she approaches me.

  “Baby unicorn.” The odd girl from the library nods at me. Her tufty black hair looks more uneven than last time I saw her.

  “My name is Zach.”

  “I didn’t ask for it.”

  “What’s your name?”

  “Laura, but people call me Ray.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I tell them to.” She gestures toward the entrance. “Why were you with Grant?”

  I look over to where he’s easily accepting the type of attention that would turn me into a shaking mess. A tall girl tugs on his dark brown hair and he turns his smile on her. I wonder what that would feel like. To have one of his honest smiles. “He’s my best friend’s brother. For some reason he thinks I want to be here.”

  She eyes me. “Are you gay?”

  “Yes. Are you?”

  “Ace. Aro. And also, I don’t like people in general.”

  “But you are a person.”

  “I know.” She scrunches up her face. “Rotten luck, right?”

  “To be the most powerful species on earth? Seems like the right kind of luck to me.”

  She points to Foster. “He’s powerful. We are not.”

  “I beg to disagree. There’s power in being different.” Even if I haven’t figured out what that is yet.

  “Only so far as people can exploit it.” She cringes. “Here they come.”

  I turn and come face to well, chest, with Foster, as the bubbly girl seemingly bounces up to Ray and presses a kiss to her temple. I don’t know what look I’m wearing, but Ray shakes her head.

  “She won’t leave me alone.”

  “Ray loves me, really.” The blonde hands Ray a drink and smiles at me. “I’m Vanessa.”

  “Zach. Are you friends with Ray? She’s very abrasive.” Again, the internal warning that my words probably come across as rude doesn’t hit until I’ve already spoken. I immediately tense up, waiting for the pissed-off reaction I get so often.

  Ray snorts. “Are you sure you’re not a robot?”

  The tension releases. “Last I checked.” We share a small smile. “You two seem like unlikely friends.”

  Ray points at Foster. “Look who’s talking.”

  “We’re not fr—”

  Foster cuts me off as he loops his arm around my shoulders. “I know you’re not gonna finish that sentence, Zach.”

  “I’m not?”

  “Nope. We are friends, and this is why: One, I’ve seen you shirtless.”

  “When did you see me shirtless?”

  “One break when you were staying at the house with my brother. We crossed paths in the middle of the night on the way to the bathroom. Very memorable.” He keeps talking, listing other random reasons why we’re supposedly friends, but how he expects me to concentrate on anything but the weight over my shoulders and the warmth at my side is beyond me. Is it possible to pass out from nerves? Because I feel dangerously close to—oh. I’ve stopped breathing.

  I force down a lungful of oxygen, which might actually be worse because I can almost taste Foster’s woodsy aftershave. The smell of his body wash is making me giddy, and I have the most bizarre compulsion to start laughing.

  “—and lastly, how can Seth expect me to look out for you if we’re not friends?”

  That’s about the only thing he could have said to kill the laugh. I shrug him off and quickly step away. “I’m not a pity case.”

  “I never said you—”

  “Maybe I should go.”

  “Hell no.” Ray sticks out her leg to stop me from moving. “Misery loves company. If I’m stuck here, so are you, baby unicorn.”

  “I’m certain it doesn’t work that way.” At least I’m reasonably sure it doesn’t.

  Foster tugs on my sleeve and nods toward the side of the room. I follow him because at this point, I’m so far out of my realm of experience that I need him to anchor me. “You okay?”

  “Physically, yes.”

  “Can you give me a straight answer? You know what I’m asking.”

  “I …” Am afraid of saying anything that will make you realize how distinctly uncool I am. “… am a little out of my comfort zone.”

  “Isn’t that a good thing?”

  “I don’t think you know what it’s like. You’re comfortable everywhere.”

  “I pretend to be comfortable everywhere.”

  I level him with a look that very clearly conveys my disbelief, and to my surprise, he laughs.

  “Okay, so I usually am comfortable. But that’s because I know words can’t hurt me. Who cares what people say?”

  “Words hurt. And so do other things.”

  “Other th—Zach, has someone hurt you? Seth hinted at something, but—”

  I frantically shake my head. “It doesn’t matter. That’s not my point here. The point is we clearly lead very different lives. Societal standards work in your favor. You’re fit, conventionally attractive, smart, and exhibit the traits of self-confidence that people find appealing.”

  His lips twitch. “Conventionally attractive? Conventionally?”

  “Also not the point.” I can’t help a small laugh.

  “You think you’re the opposite of me?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Hm. I disagree.”

  “Based on what evidence?”

  Foster’s gaze slowly trails down my body, sending pleasant ripples radiating into my limbs. Then he snaps his head away. “Seth speaks highly of you, and my brother is a picky bastard when it comes to friends.”

  That isn’t evidence.

  “So am I,” he continues. “And we’re friends, aren’t we?”

  “I don’t think we can be.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  “Because I’m your TA. It could be seen as a conflict of interest.”

  “No way. Most TAs are friends with the students on some level because usually they’ve been through classes with them. We can be friends. We’re just not allowed to fuck.”

  I stare. And stare. Because now he’s gone and put that image into my brain, and I can never unsee it. If he’s expecting a response, he’s going to be waiting a long time.

  “Grant! There you are.”

  I step back as Foster’s friend from class joins us, knocking their shoulders together.

  “Dude, what are you doing here?” Foster asks, and with both of them standing over me, it occurs to me how impressively tall Foster is.

  “Ah … Coach wanted me to let you know you’re running drills at practice tomorrow.”

  “Why the hell did I need a head’s up for that?”

  “Don’t ask me how his mind works.” His friend won’t look him in the eye. It seems off.

  I tilt my head. “Couldn’t that be conveyed in a text?” I regret speaking the second the words leave my mouth because I’m suddenly the subject of both of their attention.

  His friend’s face lights up. “It’s the TA. You—”

  “Jacobs.” Foster shoots him a look before tugging his friend away. “Be back in a second, Zach.”

  They leave, and it’s a relief to not feel like I’m surrounded by a wall of muscle. I watch as they talk quietly a few feet away, and it doesn’t surprise me that Foster’s friend is as good looking as he is. With how close they seem to be, maybe he’s Foster’s type?

  I’m reminded of the casual touching and easy banter they share during class, and it sets off that foreign sick feeling I experienced earlier. Emotions are transient. It’s nothing more than a temporary slip in control. Control I will regain. I remind myself for the millionth time this week that my body is reacting to the alpha in Foster and nothing more. And yet … I look at his friend. He’s very clearly on the same level as Foster when it comes to respectability within the school, and he’s large and attractive, but the dose of chemistry is absent.
>
  And that’s enough of that.

  Only, now I’m not thinking about them, I’m overly focused on the fact Foster left me here. Alone. Somewhere I don’t even want to be.

  I wonder if anyone will notice if I slip away.

  Ray’s eyes meet mine from across the room.

  I’ll have to make my escape when she’s not looking.

  9

  Foster

  We’ve barely reached outside, the early fall air turning cool already and sending a shiver through me, when Jacobs rounds on me. “Are you on a date right now?”

  “It’s not a date. For the millionth time, he’s—”

  “Your brother’s best friend. Uh-huh. Sure. You had your arm around him.”

  I gasp. “Scandalous. Wait, how long were you in there—”

  “I thought you were trying to fuck the guy, not”—Jacobs waves his hand in the direction of the building—“whatever that was in there.”

  “For fuck’s sake,” I mutter. “It’s not like that.”

  It’s not.

  Not. At. All.

  Jacobs looks like he doesn’t believe me.

  “Okay, so what if it is? I mean, it isn’t, but what if it was? Why are you acting like a jealous boyfriend? Do I need to remind you you’re straight? Straight, straight, straight, as you put it when I came out to you. You know, in case I ever in my wildest dreams thought of you that way.”

  Jacobs’s jaw sets like he’s gritting his teeth. “I’m not acting like … that. I’m acting like a concerned teammate. What happened to no relationships, no distractions? Are we making it to the Frozen Four this year or not?”

  “No distractions,” I agree. “Zach isn’t a distraction.”

  “Isn’t he?”

  “Nope. He’s a friend. Last I checked, we were allowed to have those. I brought him here so he could make other friends.”

  Jacobs’s focus moves behind me.

  “I didn’t even want to come.”

  I flinch at Zach’s voice and then glare at Jacobs. “Thanks for the heads up,” I mutter and turn to Zach.

  “I’m going home.” Zach charges past me.

  Shit.

  It’s not like I said anything that was untrue, but I know the way it sounded coming out of my mouth. Like I only brought him so he wouldn’t be my responsibility anymore.

  I catch up to him. “Zach …”

  “I’m perfectly capable of getting home on my own. I’m not some helpless—”

  “I know. I want to walk you home.”

  He stops in his tracks. “Why?”

  “Because I was the one who dragged you out. It’s the polite thing to do.”

  “I didn’t think hockey players knew the meaning of that word.”

  I bark out a laugh. “Because we’re so dumb? I like snarky Zach.”

  He takes off again. “I wasn’t being snarky. I meant because you’re anything but polite on the ice.”

  “Mmhmm, sure. Definitely wasn’t a dig at a hockey player’s intellect.”

  His lips twitch. “Maybe a little.”

  I grin.

  When we reach his dorm, he goes to walk up the stairs to his building, but I pull on his arm and tug him closer to me.

  With him on the first step, we’re at equal height.

  His green eyes make me forget what I was going to say. “What?” he asks.

  “What I said to Jacobs. I didn’t mean it how it sounded. I wanted to hang out with you tonight, not pass you off to someone else.”

  “I know.”

  “You know? I thought because I left you, and—”

  “You took me there to try to make me more comfortable on campus, but you should probably know I’m never comfortable in big groups. I’m better one-on-one. It’s why—”

  “Why you and my brother get along.” Seth’s the same way.

  “Yes.”

  “I’m sorry it didn’t go the way I planned.”

  Zach bites his lip. “Your … friend or … teammate?” He cocks his head. “Boyfriend?”

  I snort and shake my head. “Definitely not my boyfriend. He’s straight.”

  “Oh. But he went to a queer event and—”

  “Supposedly, he’s worried about the season.”

  “It seems like an intense conversation if it was only about hockey.”

  I laugh hard. “You really don’t understand sports. The word only should never be in the same sentence as hockey. You know, unless it’s: hockey is only the best sport ever! Or—”

  “Okay, okay. I get it.”

  We’re standing close with my hand still gripping his arm and his eyes locked on mine.

  His Adam’s apple bounces. “Umm … you can probably let go of me now.”

  Oh. Right.

  My hand drops away, but I don’t move.

  I know I should walk away here, but the simple fact is I don’t want to. Seth has told me to stay away. Jacobs thinks Zach’s a distraction and not good for hockey. Both of them make good points.

  Zach is Seth’s friend, and I would never, ever let anything come between them. Or between me and my brother.

  Which is why I know it’s wrong when the next thing falls out of my mouth.

  “I have an idea.”

  “That’s scary.”

  I grin. “You never did anything like tonight back at UVM, did you?”

  “I didn’t see the need.”

  “You did college all wrong,” I tease.

  Zach scowls. “I like the way I did college. I got my degree an entire year early.”

  “But how many memories do you have of doing stupid shit for no reason? College is supposed to be about more than studying. It’s life experience.”

  “I hung out with your brother a lot. Does that count?”

  “No. Hanging out in your dorm with Seth doesn’t count as doing something stupid. Although, I will argue he’s stupid, just because it’s my obligatory brotherly right to call him names.”

  The small smile that appears on Zach’s face is enough to know that even though I should stick to the original deal where I check in on him, there’s no way I will. That one smile gives me more purpose than anything else ever has other than hockey.

  I want to see it on him as much as I can.

  “What days do you have TA obligations?”

  “Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays. Why?”

  “Friday. I’m picking you up, and we’re going to start your college experience right.”

  I back away from him, and his smile is replaced with confusion.

  “I knew I had a reason to be scared.”

  “Not at all. Trust me.” I spin and walk away, chuckling at his response.

  “That makes it worse!”

  It’s still dark when I arrive outside Zach’s dorm Friday morning, coffees in hand from the twenty-four-hour cafe on campus. It’s a little cold out, the last remnants of summer starting to disappear in the early dawn.

  There’s no one out and about to let me in at this time, so I take my phone out and call him. It takes a while, but eventually, he answers.

  “This is Zach,” he mumbles, and I huff a laugh.

  “This is your wake-up call. I’m outside.”

  “Foster?”

  “No, it’s Seth.”

  There’s a pause.

  “Of course it’s Foster. Hurry up and get your ass dressed and out here.”

  “Out where?”

  “Are you always this dense at the crack of dawn? Outside your dorm. There are experiences to be had.”

  Another pause. “Did you go out last night? Are you still drunk or something?”

  “Zach, please get dressed and come down to meet me.”

  The line cuts out, and I have no idea if that’s a confirmation or a polite way of telling me to fuck off.

  A few minutes later, Zach appears, his hair a mess, his eyes weary behind his glasses. He looks sweet and cute and …

  “Are you wearing two different shoes?”

 
; He’s got on one blue and one white.

  He glances down. “Someone made me get dressed in the dark.”

  “Does your room not have electricity?”

  “Shut up,” he mumbles.

  “Coffee?” I hold out a cup for him.

  “What are we doing?”

  “I have a list.”

  “You make no sense at stupid o’clock.”

  “It’s a list of college experiences you have to mark off. First one is to see campus at sunrise. Of course, the idea behind it is to stay up all night beforehand, but I didn’t think you’d want to start with something that hardcore.”

  “Oh sweet Jesus. You were serious about that?”

  “Mmhmm, and I have a whole day of fun planned.”

  “I have classes.”

  “College experience number thirteen: ditch an entire day of classes.”

  Zach gasps. “How many things are there?”

  I hand over the list on my phone.

  He scrolls through it. “No. No, no, no—”

  “We’re not doing all of them. It’s something I found online, but let’s get started.”

  I lead him to the quad and steal glances at him sipping his coffee while we walk. The sky is starting to brighten a little, and he stares at the surrounding angular buildings with disinterest. Or maybe it’s confusion.

  “Doesn’t it look awesome?”

  The sun rises, slowly spilling light through the gaps in the buildings. It’s calm and peaceful.

  “Eh.”

  I cock my head at him. “Eh? Eh?”

  Zach shrugs.

  “What is it?” I ask.

  “Did you know the University of Vermont has been around since 1791? It was chartered the same year Vermont became the fourteenth state.”

  “Are you having a stroke? You’re at Colchester.”

  He sighs. “UVM has history. Rich history. This place is … eh.”

  “Hey, just because CU is newer, that doesn’t mean we don’t have history. These buildings were built by a super famous architect.” I lower my voice and mumble, “Probably.”

  “Really? What is the name of this super famous architect?”

  “Archibald … Fleurgenstein.” Sounds legit.

  “And what was he famous for?” Zach’s lips are pressed together like he’s trying not to laugh, but I don’t give a shit he’s not buying the words coming out of my mouth.