Chapter 18 Stella
Stella
Colt drops me off, and I call Nora as I walk into my dorm. Colt invited me to his game tonight, but I’ve never been to a hockey game and don’t want to go alone.
“Hey, Stells,” my peppy blonde friend greets when she answers my video call.
“Hey, girl,” I reply, heading straight to my room. I’m not sure if she’s even here or not, but I’ve been avoiding Summer like the plague, and I think that sentiment goes both ways. “Do you want to go to the hockey game with me tonight?”
“Since when do you like hockey?” Nora asks, laughing.
“Um…since I agreed to go on a date with Colton Crosby.” I wince as Nora’s shriek pierced my eardrums through the speaker of the phone.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she scream-asks, looking extremely offended that I’d keep something this important from her.
“I’m telling you now. He literally dropped me off five minutes ago.” Shedding my coat and shoes, I start raiding my closet for something to wear to this game.
“How did this even happen?! Last I heard, you hated his guts and were annoyed that he was your partner on that assignment! I saw you talking to him at the bar on Rachel’s birthday, but that was, like, forever ago.”
“Yeah, sorry, I guess I have been pretty secretive about the whole thing. I didn’t want anyone to know that we’d been hanging out, and he kept asking me to go out with him, and I finally caved.
We went to a Halloween party last night after my shift and things sort of escalated.
” I feel guilty about keeping my past from Nora, but at the same time, she’s a new friend.
We don’t have that emotional bond that Josie and I do.
While I want to be close to her, I’m worried my trauma dump might scare her away.
I’ve never been good at opening up to new people—Colt being the exception—because I’m always scared of what they’re going to think of me.
Nora has other friends here, and if she decided I was too much to handle, she wouldn’t have lost a whole lot.
I, on the other hand, would have lost my only friend at this school.
“You slept with Colton Crosby?!”
“Nora, for the love of God, keep your voice down!” I reprimand, but laugh nonetheless.
“Sorry. I’m sorry. I’m just so excited for you! Tell me everything! Was it good? Is his dick as magical as everyone claims? Actually, if you’re going on a date, does that mean he’s your boyfriend now? On second thought, please forget I just asked about your boyfriend’s dick.”
Laughing, I try to appease her frantic rambling. “He’s not my boyfriend, he just asked me on a date. It’s…new, but who knows, maybe it won’t go anywhere.” I can’t help but let the cynical voices creep back in with doubt.
“It’ll go somewhere if you want it to go somewhere,” Nora states, wisely. “Relationships take work, and if you like him and he likes you, then the rest will fall into place.”
“You sound like my mom,” I reply, chuckling again. “Anyway, you never answered my question. Do you want to go to the game with me?”
“Duh! You have to introduce me to all of Colt’s hot friends. Maybe I’ll find myself a cute hockey boy, too.” She bites her lower lip in a gesture of faux-seduction, pulling another laugh from me.
“Yeah, yeah, keep your pants on. You have to help me pick out what to wear before we start playing matchmaker.”
“I’m coming over right now!” she exclaims.
“No, you can’t wear leggings to your first game! He’s going to be looking at you; you have to at least put in a little effort.” Nora arrived with a bag full of makeup and hair products, preparing like we’re going to a wedding, not a hockey game.
“But it’s his sweatshirt I’m going to wear, and it’s massive on me.” I took one of Colt’s crewnecks before I left this morning, knowing I had nothing to wear when he invited me to the game.
“So? Put on some jeans and do a French tuck or something. All athletic wear is off the table,” Nora insists.
When we finish up the final touches to our outfits, she curls my long hair, and we do our makeup.
As we’re getting ready, we talk about Colt, about other boys, about volleyball, and our teammates. I get on my soapbox about Summer, after confirming she’s not home, and Nora validates every single one of my complaints.
It’s the first time I’ve felt like I have a real friend here in Pennsylvania. I had almost forgotten the feeling of a carefree, female friendship.
“So, which one of Colt’s friends are you going to set me up with?” Nora asks, applying a rosy pink blush to her cheeks.
I laugh and shoot her an exasperated look. “Nora, I’ve met them all, like, twice. I have no power to set you up with anyone.”
“Not true. You tell Colt that I’d be a cute couple with whichever one of his friends, then he goes and tells that friend, then bam! Built in double dates the rest of our lives!”
Laughing again, I shake my head. “They’re grown men,” I say, “they’ll make their own decisions.” Nora makes a noise of defeat at my words, conceding that I’m speaking the truth on that front.
Just as we’re leaving my room, grabbing our purses from the kitchen counter, Summer walks in the door. Her eyes peruse over our outfits, snagging on the number 14 stitched into my sleeve.
None of us says anything. Nora takes my hand, and we brush past Summer in the doorway, leaving before any real drama can break out.
But I can still feel the angry heat of her glare on my back, right where I know Crosby is stitched between my shoulder blades.