6. Harper
6
HARPER
“ A re you dating Camden Church?” My roommate, Cynthia, drops into the chair across from me in the dining hall.
Her boyfriend is close behind— shocker . He pulls out the seat beside her, setting down both of their trays.
“Absolutely not.” I scoff. “No.”
“You—”
“I don’t know how you interpreted what you saw, but all that happened was unfortunate timing.”
She raises her eyebrows. We’re so not friends—kind of lost the idea of that happening when I walked in on those two boning—but she’s sitting here because she wants gossip fodder. She’ll take whatever I say and run to her real friend group, and by breakfast tomorrow, everyone would know.
Even with her proclivity for talking shit, I thought we could get along fine. Enough to survive the semester anyway.
I’m regretting that wholeheartedly.
“Unfortunate timing like, he can’t last?”
The feeling of him coming on my face rushes out of the darkness, and my cheeks heat.
“Oh my God,” Cynthia squeals. “That’s so embarrassing!”
Wait—what? “No?—”
She gets up and hurries away, and I’m left staring at the boyfriend. I don’t even know his name. He was never introduced. But he winces and shakes his head slowly.
“Stamina problems are the worst. Don’t hold it against him—it’s more like a compliment.” With that, he gathers their food and trails after her.
Oh, no.
Oh shit.
I scramble for my phone.
Me
Mayday! HELP!
I stare at the screen for a long moment, willing my best friend to reply. She’s at the neighboring school, St. James University. There’s a long-standing rivalry between the two, but I’ve known Olivia since we were three.
We went to the same daycare and stayed inseparable.
Olivia
You’ve been at that school for 3 days, Harper Marie Shay. What did you do???
Accidentally had a tryst with R’s teammate
And… accidentally insinuated to the gossip queen evil roommate that he’s got an excitement issue
What the heck does excitement issue mean??
Like, uh, coming too early
[laughing crying emoji]
I want to hear this in person
Ice cream shop in thirty?
Sold.
I make it out of the dining hall unscathed—minus a few strange, pitying looks—and call a car on my phone. My parents were pretty set on the idea of me not having a car while at college. Royal has one, but that’s a new development this year. Over the summer, he complained a lot about lugging his hockey gear around on foot.
The driver shows up, and I arrive at the ice cream shop situated in St. James U territory just a few minutes before Olivia.
She and I are similar, both in style and temperament. We try not to let people walk all over us, while also retaining wallflower status. It’s a fine line to straddle. She wears thick-rimmed glasses, her dark-brown hair is barely wavy and long, with a straight-across bang hiding her forehead. Today, her outfit is comprised of a cream turtleneck sweater under rust-orange overalls and Doc Marten boots. A puffy black coat, hanging open, completes the look.
We hug, and I trail her to the counter.
“How’s St. James?” I ask.
She smiles. “It’s good. Classes are nice. I’ve avoided any and all jocks—but honestly, I think they avoid me, too. It’s a great system.”
“Any hotties in your classes?”
“Just the one.” She sighs. “He’s so dreamy, Harper. Like, he could be a model for those science magazines. With the lab coats, you know? And the lock of hair that falls down his forehead in a perfect curl. Plus, glasses.”
She’s going to be a scientist. Not sure what kind—science is not my subject—but she’s got the brain for it. Plus, the drive.
“Still drooling over him then, huh?” I grin. “Has he noticed you?”
“He complimented my overalls today.” She mirrors my expression, but her wide smile drops off faster than mine. “He’s so out of my league, it isn’t funny.”
“You’re a steal.” I nudge her. “He’d be lucky if you gave him a first date.”
Olivia rolls her eyes. We order our ice cream and move down to the pick-up window. The shop is very clearly SJU branded. Their mascot is a seawolf—whatever the fuck that is—and one is painted across the far wall in the school’s colors, burgundy and white. Framingham State U’s mascot is a viper, and our colors are purple and black.
I’m not a fan of snakes, but… better than some made-up creature?
“Okay,” she says when we have our cups and find a booth in the back of the shop. “Spill.”
I tell her everything. From interrupting Cynthia, to Royal’s party invite, and his warning to his friends… then walking in on Camden Church fucking some girl. Then her leaving when I stayed .
Olivia smacks her palm to her forehead. “You didn’t immediately run away?”
“Nope.” My face can’t get any hotter. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. And then…” I quickly relay the rest of it, ending with Camden’s visit to my room, his threat, and Cynthia and her boyfriend walking in.
Hate to say that’s how I learned his name, but… He should’ve mentioned it.
His reaction to me not knowing, it was kind of funny—and confusing. Like, how big is his ego? To think the whole school knows him automatically?
He’s got the equipment to back up the ego…
Nope. Don’t think that.
“…and that’s when Cynthia assumed I meant his stamina when I said unfortunate timing.”
She bursts into laughter. Heads turn in our direction, but she practically howls with it. Tears form in her eyes, and she swipes them away carefully once she regains control.
“Damn, dude.” She leans in. “But, like, that kind of sounds a little gray area at the party, right? You didn’t…”
I shrug. “I didn’t say no. I could’ve bit his dick off if I didn’t want it in my mouth.”
Her cheeks pinken. “Right.”
“I can’t mention this to my brother,” I add. “I think he’d actually kill Camden.”
Olivia holds up her hand. “You know what we need to do?”
“No…”
“Google.” She switches sides in the booth, coming to mine, and pulls up the internet on her phone. I watch her type in Camden’s full name, not expecting much.
Instead, dozens of articles, stats, and photos pop up.
My jaw drops.
“He was drafted to the NHL already,” she says, pointing at one of the headlines. “This past June.”
“Shit.”
Guess the ego matches… what, his talent?
My stomach twists.
She clicks around, finally coming up with a highlight reel from the World Juniors championship last year. We have to watch it once through to figure out which one he is, then replay it. I track his number—ninety-six—as he moves across the ice.
He practically floats. It’s like dancing, the way the other players seem to be standing still while he twists and dodges around them. And the goalie may as well be caught in molasses, the way he barely reacts to the quick flick of Camden’s wrist.
It’s beautiful. I know nothing about hockey, beyond being dragged to a few of Royal’s high school games when they made the playoffs, and here I am, admiring this shit.
Olivia whistles. “That was…”
“I…”
“Yeah.” She sets her phone down. “Okay, so. Maybe the rumor won’t take. Who would believe that about him anyway?”
“Right.”
I’ve got a bad feeling. It settles in my chest. Every bite of the ice cream lands hard in my stomach. I don’t finish it, letting it melt into its cup, and Olivia fills my silence with mindless, easy chatter.
“I should get back,” Olivia finally says. “I’ve got an early class tomorrow and some work to finish.”
“Yeah. It was good to see you.” I hug her, my eyes closing when her arms tighten around my back. “Wish me luck.”
“Good luck.”
“Thanks.”
I’m gonna need it.