Power Plays & Straight A's (CU Hockey 1)

I listen intently, but it all goes in one ear and out the other because he’s so animated and happy as he talks that I focus way more on him than his words.

I find a spot to park and turn my ignition off. “Experience number seven: Follow at least one school tradition.”

“Colchester has traditions?”

“Only fun ones.” I gesture to the water. “We’re going swimming.”

“Are you crazy? That water’s gonna be, what … fifty degrees?”

“Nah, it’ll be fine.” It probably won’t be fine. “We’ll jump in, get out, and get back to campus as fast as possible. You have to do it. I did it my very first day of freshman year along with the entire hockey team and half the freshman class.”

Zach’s eyes narrow.

I hold up my hand. “Honest truth. It’s a thing.”

“What if I can’t swim?”

I make a buzzer sound. “Try again. You and Seth practically spent an entire summer at the public pool.”

“Seth had a crush on the lifeguard there. Maybe I didn’t swim.”

“I’ll hold you up.”

He grumbles. “Fine. I can swim. I was just trying to get out of this.”

Who knew Zach was so much fun?

Honestly, I always wondered what my brother got out of his friendship with Zach. I thought maybe Seth’s hero complex liked that Zach needed help with basic functioning. But during the few times we’ve hung out, I’ve seen snippets of a great guy I want to get to know better.

We ditch our phones, he ditches his glasses, and we get out of the car. He looks sort of adorable without his glasses on.

“I don’t … I …” Zach gestures to his clothes.

“Clothes remain on. It’s part of the tradition.”

“I’m so looking up this ‘tradition’ as soon as we get back to campus, and if it’s not real—”

I grab his hand. “Quick, before we lose the nerve.”

I half drag him toward the edge of the small lip. The water’s deep here but close enough to shore we can easily climb out.

“One. Two …” Fuck, this is gonna be cold.

“Three.” Zach jumps first, and because we’re still holding hands, I go with him.

Holy shit, I can’t believe he did it.

It’s colder than I thought it would be.

Zach could tell me he hates me right now, and I would agree with him. I hate me too.

But when I look over at him, he whips his wet hair out of his face and starts laughing. I can’t look away.

“Hypothermia has made you lose your mind,” I say.

“Probably. But that was actually … fun.”

“I would say let’s do it again, but I’d rather go back to the dorms and shower.”

His eyes shoot wide.

“Separately. Geez. Although, I’ll have to take a closer look at that list. Hook up with a hockey player has to be on there somewhere, right?”

And, I think I just lost him.

Okay, so he has limits. Joking about hooking up with him is one of them.

But I’d be lying if I said that doesn’t make him more appealing. It’s a nice change from people throwing themselves at me.

He swims faster toward the shore, and when I catch up to him, we ride back to campus in silence.

Shivering.

“I’ll meet you back at your dorm after a shower and warm clothes?”

He stares at me, his wet hair still dripping, and his green eyes shining, but I get the very real feeling he’s about to end the day here.

I force a smile. “I promise none of the other activities include getting wet.”

His lips twitch. “So no wet T-shirt contests? I was looking forward to that.”

“Hey, we could always—”

“Nope. That was a joke.” He grabs the door handle. “See you in a bit?”

Yes. He’s still in this.

10

Zach

I’m unconvinced this morning was real. Actually, I’m still trying to comprehend the past three weeks. This year is already completely different than anything I experienced at UVM. And yes, that’s the point, so yes, maybe Foster is onto something.

At UVM sometimes I’d glance out the dorm window and watch people lying on the grass or coming to and from parties and wonder what that would be like. I can honestly say I’d never wanted to experience it for myself. My interest was more anthropological than anything else, but when Foster starts to talk about fun and experiences, I can’t help getting caught up in his contagious enthusiasm.

I’ve barely given skipping classes a second thought.

I pull on clean clothes and make sure to grab matching shoes this time, thank you very much. My cheeks heat at how ridiculous I must have looked, but this time will be better. This time I’m prepared. I’m even wearing my newest T-shirt.

Despite being tired from the early wake up, I’m looking forward to what he’s planned next.

I clean my glasses and slip them on and then … I wait. I’m unsure whether later means an hour or five, and I don’t know if texting him is socially acceptable.