She shakes her head and laughs. “My sister is the same way. She hates messes.”
“You have a sister?”
“Yeah, and a brother. What about you?”
“Two brothers.”
“Bless you.” She laughs, drying the ends of her hair with the towel. She drops the damp towel onto her bed and pulls her hair back in a messy topknot.
My phone buzzes again and I look down. “Ryland says he’s outside our dorm and he has coffee.”
“Tell him I love him,” she deadpans.
I shake my head and respond back. “Are you ready to go?” I ask.
She nods and picks up a jean jacket. “Ready.”
We head down the hall—which is nothing but bare cinderblock walls painted a drab yellow color—and to the elevator since we’re too lazy to take the stairs.
The elevator door opens, and I can already see Ryland sitting on the front steps with his back to us.
When the door whooshes open, he looks back and smiles when he sees us. “Hey.” He stands and holds out the two cups of coffee.
“Thank you, you’re a saint.” I take one from him and slurp greedily at it. I nearly moan in ecstasy. Now this is coffee. “Please tell me a stop at the coffee shop that makes this is on your tour.”
He laughs, his eyes shining. “Sure.” He looks at Elle. “I don’t think we were properly introduced last night. I’m Ryland.”
“Elle.” She does this shy little dip with her legs. I press my lips together so I don’t laugh. Elle, shy? Oh, this is interesting.
“Nice to meet you, Elle.” Ryland smiles, and the dimples in his cheeks pop out. He’s kind of adorable in a dorky way, not ruggedly handsome like Bennett.
Bennett.
Why am I even thinking about him? We didn’t exchange numbers and the chances of me running into him again on a campus this size are slim to none. Plus, he said he’s not a student, so whatever reason he was here yesterday might not apply today. I hate that I feel forlorn at the thought of never seeing him again. I barely even know him.
“I thought we could head this way first.” Ryland nods to our left.
“Sure,” I say. “You’re the one that knows your way around, not us.”
He laughs. “Right.” He glances at Elle again with a slight smile, and I swear I think she bats her eyes. “Those are dorms and those are dorms too.” He points as he begins his tour. “Administrative building there. That’s the astronomy building. They have a tower on top with telescopes that anyone can use. Cool, huh?”
“Very.” I nod, impressed.
“Gym is there. Coffee shop—that one sucks, FYI. Football stadium is over that way.” He points, and I can see the shape of it in the distance. “The hockey arena is in that building, and let me tell you, Addams University loves their hockey.”
“So does the whole state.” Elle snorts.
Ryland continues on, unaffected. By the end of his tour, my head is spinning. There are so many buildings that I barely remember any of the ones he pointed out.
Enough time has passed that we’re all hungry and stop off for lunch at one of the cafés that dot campus.
“This is one of my favorites,” Ryland says as we get in line. “They have some of the best sandwiches and they’re fast so that’s always a plus when you’re in a hurry in between classes.”
We each place our order and they give us a card with a number. We choose a table in the back corner. There’s one other guy sitting at a table, typing away on his laptop.
“Do you have a girlfriend?” Elle asks Ryland.
I laugh and shake my head.
“No,” he says, fighting a smile.
“Good.” She sits back in her chair and says no more as she looks around the room.
Ryland looks at me for an explanation and I shrug. There is no explaining Elle. That much I know.
Our food arrives, and I have to admit, my B.L.T. looks pretty good.
“So—” I munch on a chip “—where are you guys from?”
“Nebraska,” Elle says, enunciating the end of the word.
“Maine,” Ryland answers. “You?”
“Virginia.”
Ryland smiles. “A lot of us from different states end up here for some reason. Most of my friends are from out of state.”
“It’s a good school,” I reason.
“And most of us want freedom.” Elle raises her glass of water in cheers.
I clink my glass to hers and Ryland does the same. “To a new year,” he says.
“And new friends.”
My alarm goes off and my eyes shoot open.
“Shut it off,” Elle groans, covering her ears. When it continues to trill, she turns over and screams into her pillow.
I fumble for my phone and finally grab it, shutting off the annoying alarm.
My first official day of college—I’m not ready. I’ve never felt more unprepared in my whole life. I know I have everything I need, but mentally, I’m just not ready.
I get out of bed and gather up my things for the shower. I purposely set my alarm for five in the morning so I could have the bathroom to myself. I didn’t want to deal with the chaos of everyone getting ready at the same time and the overabundance of first day nerves.
Like I predicted, the bathroom is empty. I pad in my shower shoes across the room and get into the shower at the very end.
I don’t know why I’m so nervous. It’s not like I’m about to get up in front of a stadium full of people and sing.
I shower quickly, too hyped up to enjoy it, and shut the water off. I wrap the towel around my body and go to the sink and brush my teeth. I gather up my stuff in my arms and leave, heading back to my room. I can hear other girls on our floor moving around now, and I thank my forethought that I decided to get up early.
The door clicks shut behind me, and Elle groans.
“You better go grab a shower,” I tell her.
“No.”
“It’s going to get too busy in there soon,” I warn her.
“Ugh.” She presses her face into the pillow.
I lift my foot and kick her bed. “Come on. You’ll thank me later. We’ll go get breakfast when you get back.”
She reluctantly pushes her body up and grumbles the whole time she grabs her things and leaves the room.
Once she’s gone, I dress in a pair of ripped skinny jeans, a loose, off-the-shoulder, gray sweater, and choose a pair of nude-colored pumps. I slip my large gold watch onto my wrist. It was a graduation gift from my parents and they engraved it on the back.
I lean over my dresser to see into the mirror above it so I can put on my makeup. I apply a gray smoky eye look and put a nude color on my lips.
Elle comes back with wet hair hanging down her back and goes over to her closet. She shoves back the garments roughly, looking for something to wear.
I plug in my hair dryer and turn it on. She glares at me.
“That’s loud enough to wake the dead,” she yells.
When my hair is dry, I opt to curl it. I finish and flip my head upside down, shaking them out so they’re not so tight.
I stand back up and find Elle sitting on her bed, pulling on a pair of purple boots.
“Beauty Queen,” she jokes.
“Goth,” I shoot back with a laugh.
She stands. “What? You don’t like it?”
I look at her black jeans and black t-shirt. “You’re making a statement, that’s for sure.”
“And what statement would that be?” she asks with a challenging look in her eyes.
“That you don’t give a fuck,” I say.
She smiles. “Exactly.”
I grab my mint-colored backpack and look inside to make sure I have my laptop packed and ample pens and pencils.
Elle coats her lashes with mascara and adds a little black eyeliner.
“Ready,” she announces.
“Where’s your backpack?”
“Oh, shit. Right.” She drops to her knees and look
s under her bed. “I forgot I kicked it under here.” She pulls out the black backpack and I roll my eyes.
“You need some color in your life.”
“That’s what you’re for.” She waves her hand at me. “Come on, let’s go. I’m starving.”
I check one last time to make sure I have everything and then we’re out the door.
“Oh, wow,” I gasp at all the bodies in the hall. Girls linger in the hall in all kinds of stages of undress, chatting excitedly.
“Whoa,” Elle says, rearing back. We push our way through and manage to get to the elevator. When the doors close, she looks at me. “I thought I’d escaped the crowded halls of high school. Looks like I was wrong.”
I look down at her with a raised brow. “Now you’re living at high school.”
She rolls her eyes. “Oh, fuck.”
I laugh. “Maybe it won’t be that bad.”
“Or maybe it’ll be worse,” she counters.
I shrug as the elevator doors open and we walk the few feet to the main doors. I push open the door and Elle sulks behind me.
It’s a nice sunny day in Massachusetts, albeit chilly for August—at least for me, I’m used to warmer weather and it must only be sixty degrees.
Elle and I make our way across campus to one of the café’s. There are several all across campus so that no matter where you are, you can grab a bite—or coffee, and I definitely need coffee at the moment.
Elle and I place our order and grab our coffee before finding a table to sit at.
The café is already getting crowded, and I expect in the next hour for it to be a packed house with barely any standing room.
Elle flips her dark hair over her shoulder, and I try not to cringe at the rat’s nest forming in the thick dark strands since she neglected to brush it. “So, do you like Ryland?”
My eyes widen with shock. I hadn’t been expecting that. “Um, what?”
“Do you like Ryland?” she asks again.
“I mean, I like him, but not how you’re implying,” I explain.
She wraps her slender fingers around her coffee cup, and I notice a tattoo of a skull on the middle finger of her right hand. “You wouldn’t mind if I …” she trails off, letting me fill in the blanks.
“Do whatever you want,” I say, raising my hands in surrender. “I don’t care.”
She smiles. “He’s cute and nice—not the kind of guy I normally go for, but the fucktards I normally date only screw me over. I think it’s time to try something different.”
I nod. “Different can be good.”
Our food is brought out and they swipe the number card from our table. My egg sandwich smells amazing and reminds me of the one my mom always made. She insisted on making us breakfast every morning before school, and if she was sick, she always made my dad do it. I’m suddenly hit with a severe case of homesickness and my need to get away seems so silly now. What was I running from?
I dismiss my thoughts from my mind and eat my breakfast, chatting with Elle. She tells me all about her hockey obsession when one of the players comes into the café. She knows everything about the university team and it’s a bit shocking, but I’m learning Elle is full of surprises.
“Let’s meet back here for lunch,” Elle says, since we both have a break in the middle of the day at the same time.
“Sounds good.” I ball up my napkin and get up to throw away my trash.
I grab my backpack and slide my arms through the loops. My first class is a few buildings to the right and back so it shouldn’t take me long to get there—if I don’t get lost, that is.
Elle trails behind me as we head for the exit, pushing our way through the growing crowd of people. A guy sees us coming out and moves to open the door for us.
A breeze hits my face as I look up and say, “Thank you.” I gasp. “Bennett?”
Elle slams into me. “Bennett?” Her head whips from me to where I’m staring. “Holy shit, Bennett James! I’m a huge fan!”
“Hi, Grace,” he says with a lopsided smile. He tips his head at Elle and looks back at me with a twinkle in his hazel eyes like he’s silently laughing. “See you around.”
He steps back into the building, and the door clamors closed.
Elle grabs my arm and holds on so tight that I yelp. “Ow, let go.” I shake her off.
She steps back, looking at me with a shocked expression. “How do you know Bennett James?”
“He took me to Target on Saturday,” I say.
She stares at me. “You’ve never met him before?”
“No,” I say, wishing she’d get to the point.
“Grace,” she cries, jumping up and down. “He’s only the hottest NHL player ever. He’s got this whole cocky bad boy thing going for him, and on the ice, the guy is a beast. I’m telling you, it’s something to see.”
“Wait …” I pause. “You’re telling me that guy—” I point at the café where Bennett stands “—is a professional hockey player?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying. Why is that so hard to comprehend?”
I shake my head. “He didn’t tell me.”
“He probably figured you knew,” she reasons.
I shake my head, biting my lip. “No.”
“I’d heard rumors,” she continues like I haven’t spoken, “that he was on campus to train with his old coach—our team’s coach—but I figured it was just that. Rumors.” She shrugs. “He was injured really bad,” she explains. “Broke his leg or something. He missed out on half of last season, and I heard that the Plymouth Hunters might be dropping him after this season regardless of whether or not his leg is okay.” She nods, her lips pressed together. “Lots of drama in hockey. It’s delicious.”
I can’t help but laugh as we start down the cobblestone path to our classes. “Elle, you know, you’re nothing like what I thought.”
She bumps my hip with hers. “Neither are you, Miss Priss.” We start to part ways when she calls out, “If you think the conversation about Bennett is over, you’re mistaken. I need details. All of them.” She waggles her brows suggestively and then turns completely away.
I’m sure she’s imagining things to be much juicier than they are, and I’ll have to crush her dreams later.
I take a deep breath and step into the building that houses my English class. I think it’s so stupid that I have to spend the majority of my first two years at college studying the basics before I can delve into my major. It’s a necessary evil, though, so I suck it up and search for the correct lecture hall. I know I look like a major dweeb searching the building, but hey, better that than sitting through the wrong class like Ryland.
I finally locate the room and startle at the amount of people already in the room. I thought I was early.
“Excuse me,” I say softly, shuffling past a girl setting up her laptop and a guy texting. He’s not paying attention and I trip over his feet falling right in his lap.
“Oomph,” he breathes out on impact.
I’m practically sprawled across the poor guy’s lap and I quickly jump up like I’m on fire.
“I am so sorry,” I apologize quickly, my cheeks flaming red. I avoid looking at him and sprint down to the other end of the aisle, dropping into one of the chairs. I can feel him staring at me, and my mortification grows. All I want is for a huge gaping hole to open up and swallow me whole. That’d be lovely.
I keep waiting for him to say something and embarrass me further, but by some miracle, he doesn’t say anything.
The class fills up steadily while I pull out my laptop so I’ll be ready to take notes. A few people fill in the seats between me and the guy I fell on. Thank God. I couldn’t take his staring any longer.
The professor comes in and introduces himself. He’s tall with graying hair and black glasses. He’s dressed in a suit and tie with shiny black shoes. There’s something regal about him—like he came from royalty and knows he’s better than you.
“I’m Professor Hanagen. I take
my classes seriously and I expect you to do the same. Conduct yourselves in a professional manner or I’ll ask you to leave and drop my class.” He crosses his hands together. “I’m going to pass out the roll sheet. Check off your name from the list—you will be required to do this every class. Whatever seat you’ve chosen will be yours until the end of the semester so I hope you like it.” He grabs a sheet of paper, clipboard, and pen, and hands it to the student nearest him.
“Is this guy for real?” the girl beside me hisses under her breath.
Professor Hanagen immediately launches into his lecture and I scramble to type fast enough. All around me, the clacking of keyboards fills the air.
Forty-five minutes later, class ends and my fingers ache. I pack up my stuff as the room empties out.
“Hey.”
Oh, shit.
I know, without even looking up, that it’s the guy I fell on.
Lovely.
“Hi,” I say reluctantly, looking up into impossibly-blue eyes. His blond hair is shaggy and his skin is tanned like he spends a lot of time outside.
“I thought I should introduce myself after that whole … incident.” He points over his shoulder to his chair. “I’m Tanner.”
I want to say that he most certainly didn’t need to introduce himself, but considering I’m the one that sat in his lap, I kind of owe the guy. “Grace,” I say, giving him a small smile. “I’m really sorry about that.”
He shrugs. “S’okay.”
I stand and grab my backpack. “Well, it was nice to meet you,” I say rather fast, trying to get past him. “I need to get to my next class.”
“Oh, yeah, right,” he mumbles. “I guess I’ll see you around?”
“Yeah, sure,” I say quickly, scurrying down the aisle and out the door.
Once outside in the daylight, I shake my head like I’m trying to shake away the memories of the embarrassing incident.
But it sticks like putty to my brain.
I look up to the sky and sigh.
It’s going to be a long day.
This had been one long ass fucking week.
“Coach,” I plead, hands on my hips. “I need to get on the ice.”
Coach Harrison narrows his shrewd eyes on me. He hates begging, but I’m desperate at this point. “Get in the gym with the rest of the guys. Now.” The tone in his voice allows no argument.
The Game That Breaks Us Page 5