by Hamel, B. B.
“Come on, dude,” Mike says, making a lewd gesture and coming over toward us. He’s tall and broad, like most hockey guys, with a crooked nose and a furrowed brow. “Don’t be a little bitch.”
“Hear that, Addie?” Will asks me. “He thinks I’m a little bitch.”
“You are!” Mike says and turns to the water. He jogs over and steps in, making a little squealing sound of surprise as he submerges his legs up to the knees.
I sigh and I know I’ve lost this already. “Fine,” I say. “Get hypothermia. See if I care.”
Will’s smirk is so familiar, like the sunrise, and it never fails to make me smile in return. “Don’t worry, Addie. If I die, who’s going to take care of you?”
Without another word, Will Eaton follows his meathead friends into the freezing freaking lake, and I’m left shaking my head and watching them. It’s a yearly tradition for the senior hockey players to take a frozen plunge, and Will says I should be honored to witness it, but I don’t feel too honored. The guys gather together, shivering and laughing and splashing. There are nine of them, all equally idiotic and freezing and exuberant. Someone produces a bottle of vodka and they pass it around, taking a big swig, waiting for someone to decide they’ve had enough. The moonlight’s bright against the water and the ripples as the guys push each other and splash, shouting and laughing.
Other girls stand around, watching the guys, some of them yelling out. There are a few younger guys too, barred from joining in on the idiotic fun, trying to flirt with the girls, but it’s clear tonight is all about the senior boys. I stand apart from everyone, like I always do, trying to pretend like I’m comfortable, when really, I feel like I’m standing in that freezing cold lake too.
The guys don’t last long, which is typical for college bros. It’s just too cold, and while they want to pretend like they’re all a bunch of macho men, they’re still human. They come back out, shivering and laughing as they towel off and get dressed again. Will winks at me as he pulls on his pants while Mike tries to shove him over. The guys end up wrestling, arms locked around each other until a few other hockey players break it up. They’re all laughing like it’s the funniest thing ever, even though they look like idiots.
Will wasn’t always like this. Heck, he’s still not. When we’re alone, which is most of the time, he’s the sweetest and smartest guy I know. He always says that hockey is just a ticket to a better life, one far away from all the shit we went through in our past. I don’t argue with him, because I know it’s true, but I wish we had a better way.
He’s always been there for me, as far back as I can remember. We met soon after I was adopted by my mother’s cousin, an older woman named Eleanor. I didn’t know it at the time, but Eleanor’s actually absurdly rich, the last surviving member of the part of my family that wasn’t dirt poor and bitter about it. I was thirteen when I met Will. He grew up near Eleanor’s estate with his father and a rotating cast of wicked stepmothers. We were practically inseparable all through high school, and it seemed obvious and natural that we’d end up going to college together. He was always good at hockey, but he took it to the next level when he was recruited for Notre Dame’s team. I got in with an academic scholarship and our friendship only got stronger.
Now though, graduation’s coming. His hockey season is over and I’m finishing up my final papers. We’re both trying to figure out what we’re going to do outside of the little oasis paradise that is Notre Dame, and although we’ve floated a lot of different plans, we just don’t know.
The only thing I’m sure of is that I don’t know how to live without Will. It’s just that simple. I’ve been relying on him for so long, and he knows everything about me. I have some memory problems and other health issues, stuff lingering from some trauma I went through when I was younger. He’s the only person that really gets it and know what happened to me, and he basically takes care of me and always has.
“Come on,” he says. “Party’s starting. Don’t want to be late, do we?”
I shrug a little. “I wouldn’t mind being late.”
He laughs a little bit and takes my hand. I feel a quick thrill run through me, but I know it’s meaningless. He’s always doing stuff like that: hugging me, holding my hand, brushing my hair from my face, even spooning me when we nap together. It’s the most intimate relationship I’ve ever had, except I’m pretty sure he looks at me like his kid sister.
“You always say that.” He squeezes my hand. “It’s our last few weeks here in paradise. We have to try and have fun, right?”
“I guess you’re right.”
“You’ll never be young and beautiful again, so enjoy yourself.”
I blush a little bit and look away. I don’t think I’m particularly pretty, but he’s always telling me how gorgeous I am. Guys hit on me at parties sometimes, and I’ve been asked out randomly, but I always say no. It’s really hard for me to get close to people after what happened, even all these years later.
Sometimes, I wonder what he sees in me. Poor, broken little Addie, abused by her parents when she was younger and scarred forever. Sometimes I think I’m a charity case for him, but I know that’s not true. He has his own demons that I help him with, even though it’s hard for me to picture our relationship as anything but one-sided.
We head off across campus, the guys all joking and laughing and passing the bottle around. We pass the chapel and cut across the wide, empty lawn, angling toward the parking lot. The stadium’s off to our left and the library’s back a little bit past that. I can just make out Touchdown Jesus, his arms outspread.
“Gonna be a rager tonight, huh, Will?” JT says, coming up behind us.
Will grins at him. “Fuck, yeah, it is. But hockey parties are always fucking good.”
“This one, it’ll be the best.” JT looks at me. “You coming, Addie?”
I nod a little. “Yeah, I’m not flaking out this time.”
JT grins at me. He’s a decent guy, as far as these hockey jocks go. “Atta girl. Maybe you can save a dance for me.” He gives me a hopeful little grin.
I glance up at Will, my eyes wide. Will glares at JT. “Maybe some other time,” he says.
JT just laughs and shrugs. Everyone’s used to my relationship with Will. I know people talk and think it’s weird, but they don’t understand. I think I’d have a panic attack if someone forced me onto a tight, closed-in dance floor, and I’m sick of having to come up with excuses. Will just scares people off for me these days.
“Forget about him,” Will says softly to me. “Just try and have fun, okay?”
“Okay,” I say. “I’m relaxing. Hey, maybe I’ll even grind with JT a little bit.”
He grins. “I would love to see that.”
“I can grind,” I say, although he knows it isn’t true. “I can grind real good.”
He laughs and bumps me with his hip. I laugh and pull his arm, and he stumbles against me. I hold onto his arm with my free hand and for a second, I can imagine we’re actually dating. I have this stupid fantasy like once a day pretty much, and every time I have to remind myself that it’s definitely, absolutely, one hundred percent not real and never happening.
Will can do much better than a broken girl like me.
* * *
It really is the biggest party of the year, and I’m instantly so uncomfortable that it takes everything I have not to bolt right away. Will’s hand on mine is the only thing keeping me from freaking out.
I have a thing with tight spaces. I’ve been working on it in therapy, and I’ve actually made some huge strides. A few years ago, I would never in a million years have been able to be in a crowd, let alone in a packed house party. Now though, I want to have a panic attack, but I’m still here.
“Drink up,” Will says, handing me a red cup. It’s cheap watery beer, but it helps calm me down as I drink half the cup in one go.
He laughs a little bit. His hand leaves mine and for a second, I think I’m going to lose it.
&nbs
p; “You’re good,” he says to me.
I take a breath and let it out. “Yeah, I’m good.”
He nods and drinks his beer. I finish mine a few minutes later, and he gets me another one. When he gets back, a few hockey guys join our little party of two, and start joking about all the girls at the party.
I’m feeling better after a drink, and I even join in on the conversation. “Mike, I think you should hook up with Maureen,” I say.
He looks at me. “Why?” he asks.
I shrug. “You’re from Alabama, right? She looks like she could be your cousin.”
The guys all crack up, and even Mike smiles. I grin at them as they start ribbing each other again, though they’re all careful not to make fun of me. Will gives me a little smile and a wink. I can tell he’s worried I might flip, but I actually feel okay.
We join the beer pong table not long after. I stand off to the side as JT and Will win game after game. I have a few beers and actually enjoy myself. I end up having a long conversation with Rick’s girlfriend Emily about how disgusting the hockey house is, and how impossible it is to keep up with all the constant drama.
“You’d think these big, strong manly men wouldn’t be such little babies,” Emily says, making me laugh.
“Will pretends like he’s above it all,” I say, “but he complains just as much as the rest of them.”
“Ugh, Rick’s the same way. I mean, seriously, guys, get it together. They’re obsessed with who’s on what line or whatever. I can’t even follow it half the time.”
“I gave up years ago,” I admit. “I go to the home games but I don’t really pay attention.”
She grins at me. “I don’t go to games at all.”
I laugh. “You’re kidding? Rick’s okay with that?”
“Sure, he doesn’t care.” She hesitates a second. “You’re not… dating Will, are you?”
I shake my head. “No, we’re just friends.”
“Okay, I mean, there are all these rumors. I’m sorry I even asked.”
I sigh. “I know the rumors. But no, we’re just friends.”
“Cool, right. Will’s a good guy. He’s a good friend.” I can tell she’s a little uncomfortable.
“He’s actually a total douche but what can you do.”
She grins at my joke and the awkward moment passes. We go back to making fun of the guys together, which was way more fun anyway.
After a few more minutes of that, more cheers erupt from the beer pong table. Will and JT just won another game, although JT’s not looking too hot. He stumbles against the wall and laughs as Will straightens him, a little frown on his face. He catches my eye and beckons me over.
“Be right back,” I say to Emily, and head over to Will. It takes me a second to realize that JT is absolutely wasted.
“Too much vodka on the way over,” Will explains. “This fucker is toast.”
“Your mom’s toast,” JT says, and Will laughs, pushing him away. JT stumbles away from the table as two more guys line up.
“Wanna play?” Will asks me. “I need a new partner.”
“I’ve never played before,” I say.
“Come on, you know the rules. Throw the ball into the cup. Simple.”
“Fine,” I say. “But you’re carrying the team.”
He grins. “I already was.”
We win the first game and then the second. I only make three cups total, but still, it’s the most fun I’ve ever had at a party, and I think it’s because I’m finally letting loose a little bit and having some drinks. I know I’ve been such a tight-ass all these years, and I’ve probably been such a burden on Will. I wish I could’ve had more fun like this when I had the chance.
But this is it and I think everyone here knows it. As we keep playing, laughing and joking and even flirting a little bit, we know that it’s the end. The big parties are done. There’s an apocalyptic feeling to everything, like everyone’s trying to party hard enough to forget that our time’s almost up. The seniors will graduate and move on, and the younger guys will take over leadership positions on the team. There’s a buzz in the air, and it’s intoxicating.
Or maybe that’s just Will’s grin as we win a third game. He pulls me against him, hugging me tight. I have a warm bloom on my cheeks and I know I probably shouldn’t drink anymore, but I love the way my body feels against his. I look up at him, a huge smile on my lips, and I can picture him kissing me. I’ve pictured it a million times, and I can see it so clearly.
He looks back at me, our eyes locked. Normally, we’d look away by now. Whenever there’s a charged moment, our bodies too close, our lips too close, we pull away. We’re just friends, I tell myself. He doesn’t want that.
This time, he doesn’t pull away. “You look good tonight,” he says softly.
“Yeah?” I ask. “You do too.”
“I know.” His smirk kills me all over again. “I’m really happy you’re here.”
“Me too. I’m happy you dragged me here.”
“I think we should leave.”
His words strike me almost numb. I stand there and I can see it in his eyes. He’s not joking, although I know that if I turn him down, he’ll pretend like he is. I know it, because it’s happened before. Last year, he came over drunk and put his hand on my thigh, whispered in my ear, and I pulled away. I regretted it, but I stopped it, and he pretended like he was just kidding around.
I don’t make that mistake this time. “Okay,” I say. “My place is closer.”
“Let’s go.”
He takes my hand and we walk away from the table. I don’t think anyone notices. They’re used to Will dragging me around by the hand.
It’s different this time, though. We both know it. There’s something charged and our normal hand-holding feels like something a lot more.
We leave the party and hurry away. I live in an apartment building just down the street. We don’t talk much as we walk, although I stay close to him, huddling for warmth. We get to my building and I get us upstairs, unlocking the doors with my keycard.
We get inside and for a second, I’m worried the spell’s broken. This is so familiar, the two of us alone in my place. There’s never been anything special about it, anything deeper than just two close friends spending time together. But as soon as we walk in the door and he turns to me, I know it’s different. The magic is still there.
I step up to him. “Should I turn on the light?”
He shakes his head. “Don’t.”
“Why?”
“Because. Let’s pretend we’re somewhere else, okay?”
“Okay,” I say softly. “I can do that.”
“For tonight.” He tips my chin up toward him. “You know what I mean?”
“I know.” The words are a whisper. I’m so afraid my heart’s going to jump out of my throat, but as soon as he kisses me, everything’s better.
It’s so natural. I thought it would be weird and awkward, but it feels like we’ve been doing this forever. I take off his shirt and pants and he pulls off mine, undressing me down to my bra and panties. I’ve been this naked around him before, but never like this, never with his lips against my neck and his hands on my skin.
He unhooks my bra and I let it slide off. He pulls my panties off, and I’m naked in front of him, completely exposed for the first time.
I don’t have long to think about it, because as soon as his fingers touch my soaking pussy, I know I’m totally screwed.
He pushes me down onto the couch and tongues my clit. I’ve never felt something like this before. I had no clue he was so good at it, but it feels fucking incredible. His strong hands grip my hips and I writhe against him as he sucks and licks me, getting me closer and wetter. I’m dripping by the time he stands up and takes off his boxer briefs, revealing his massive, thick cock.
I take him into my mouth without thinking. He stands there as I suck him slow and deep, my eyes finding his. I love the way he tastes, the grunts he makes, the way he pushe
s my head down his thick shaft even further. He’s confident and practiced and I want to taste him, feel him, make him happy.
Most of all, I want him to fuck me.
He pulls me up and kisses me again before he pushes me back onto the couch. He spreads my legs wide and slowly pushes himself inside of me. Without thinking I gasp and move my hips until his cock is filling me completely, his strong body above mine. I look up into his eyes again, my mouth hanging open.
“Is this what you want?” he whispers in my ear.
“So fucking bad,” I whisper back.
He fucks me just the way I’ve always pictured it after that. He works my body, his cock sliding in and out, lips against my skin, hands working my body. He pulls back and turns me around, fucking my tight pussy from behind, railing into me, making me gasp and scream and moan. I grasp the end of the couch and he doesn’t relent, not even when he rubs my clit and I come hard, my whole body shaking.
Not long after I finish, I can feel him grunt and stiffen behind me. His cum fills me up, hot and fast, deep inside my pussy. I wiggle my hips, wanting every drop. I can’t get pregnant, after all, or at least that’s what the doctors told me. He didn’t need to wear protection and he knew it, that’s why he came inside of me.
And it felt so fucking good. When we’re done, he holds me on the couch, both of us still naked and slightly damp with sweat.
“Is this some kind of dream?” he asks me finally, breaking the silence.
“No,” I say, laughing. “Just a stupid, stupid mistake.”
He grins, nuzzling my neck. “Yeah. Stupid mistake. But a really fucking fun one.”
I laugh and kiss him softly. “Yeah. Really fun.” I bite my lip a little bit, cocking my head. “But what are we after this?”