6. Dylan #3
One where sports don’t come before classes. Where students’ days aren’t so bogged down with practices and team meetings and gym sessions that they have time for hobbies and extracurricular activities.
For the first time all week, I inhale and relax.
There’s something reassuring about knowing I can walk five minutes away and enter a whole new world. One where no one knows who I am or belittles me for what I’m attempting to do, even though it’s having absolutely no recourse on their lives, so why the hell do they even care?
Sometimes, I wonder what my life would be like if I weren’t so hockey-obsessed.
What clubs would I join? Who would my friends be?
Life would probably be a hundred times easier, but no matter what I’ve had to endure, the challenges I’ve had to face, and hardships I’ve overcome, I wouldn’t change a single second of it .
It’s nice to have a break from the hockey ecosystem, but hockey is who I am. It’s in my blood. I’d be lost without it.
I wander aimlessly around the campus, enjoying the bright early September day until, eventually, I come across a tall, old building with stone steps and columns on either side of a large wooden door. Above it, engraved in stone, is written Blackstone University Library .
There’s a library in the sports center for athletes, but I haven’t stepped foot in it yet—for obvious reasons. However, casting a glance around, I ascend the steps and enter the historic building.
The door shuts with a snick, and silence greets me.
Heavenly, blissful silence. Before me is a wide, open space filled with individual and group study tables.
Rows of bookshelves line the sides and back of the room, with a sweeping staircase along both side walls leading up to a balcony and second floor where I catch a peek of more tables and bookshelves.
A reception desk is off to my right, a petite, auburn-haired girl with oversized glasses sitting behind it. Her head is down, reading a book, but she looks up at the sound of someone entering.
She gives me a bland smile before glancing down again, but immediately, her head snaps back up, her jaw parting. I’m instantly on edge.
“Holy crap,” she murmurs breathlessly. Her honey-brown eyes are wide as she pushes her glasses up her nose, as though that will help her see better.
In the next second, she’s on her feet, mouth still agape.
“Holy crap!” she exclaims, louder this time.
I glance nervously around. This chick clearly knows who I am, but that doesn’t mean I want anyone else in here to know.
Noticing, she waves dismissively as she moves out from behind the desk. “It’s the first week of term. You and I are literally the only two people in here.”
“Oh.” I take a step backward, ready to flee. Pointing over my shoulder toward the door, I mutter, “I’ll just?—”
“No, wait.” She reaches out toward me with her hand but doesn’t move closer.
“Sorry.” She shakes her head. “I’m being a total psycho weirdo right now.
Forgive me.” She’s still staring at me with wide, rounded eyes.
I don’t think she’s blinked since I walked in.
Her cheeks blush even as she fans herself with her hand, her face splitting into a wide grin.
“I’m totally fangirling right now. Give me a moment, I swear I’ll get my shit together in a second, it’s just… holy crap, you’re Dylan Carter, right?”
When I merely blink at her, having no clue whether confirming or denying is the better option, she blushes harder.
“Oh God, please tell me you are, and I’m not making a bigger fool of myself than I already am.
” Her gaze wanders over me but not in a leering or assessing way like the guys who ambushed me after class or the bitch bunnies in the cafeteria.
“I’m used to seeing you all geared up. I heard you’d switched to BSU, but I never thought for the life of me that we’d cross paths.
Never mind that you’d ever walk into my library.
I need to pinch myself. Maybe I fell asleep at the desk, and this is all a dream?—”
“You’re not dreaming.” Finally finding my voice, I cut her off from her rambling. “And yes, I’m Dylan.”
“Oh my God!” Her voice reaches a screeching decibel, her hands flying to her mouth as she jumps on the spot.
“Sorry. I’m sorry.” She rushes forward so fast that I flinch.
Holding her hand out for me to shake, she beams at me.
It’s only now that she’s standing directly in front of me that I realize she’s a decent bit shorter than I am.
Not much over five feet, if I had to guess.
“I’m Wren.” Hesitantly, I reach out to shake her hand.
“I am such a big fan. Like, the biggest fan.”
“You…are? ”
She nods emphatically. “I’ve been following you since you played BSU my freshman year. A girl on the boys’ team…the rumor mill was abuzz, but when I saw you play…”
My brow furrows as I think back to that game. It was one of my first as a college player. The NSU team hadn’t classified me as a threat yet, so it was one of the few games I actually got to play without being sabotaged by my own teammates. Still, I’d only gotten a few minutes of ice time.
“The way you intercepted that pass.” She shakes her head as though in awe.
“And that deke!” She groans as though the mere memory of it is orgasm-inducing.
“I went home that night and checked your stats and highlight reels.” She shrugs, blush returning in full force.
“I’ve been a little obsessed ever since.
Especially when I heard you’d be playing for BSU this season. ”
“I…don’t know what to say.” I’ve never met a fan before.
Pretty sure I’ve never even had a fan before.
Well, none beyond my family and Bear.
Noticing my awkwardness, she steps back, grimacing slightly. “I’m sorry. You came here to study or chill, and I totally accosted you. I’m sorry. I’ll just go back to my reading and leave you be.”
Glancing around the library, I ask, “Is this where you hang out?”
She nods. “I’m the student librarian here.”
“Does it get busy during term time?”
“A bit. Mostly in the run-up to exams. Most students prefer to use their inter-departmental libraries for studying, so it’s never packed.”
Nodding absently, I chew on my lower lip before asking, “Would you mind if I came back tomorrow?” My next class is starting soon, and I’ll have to hightail it across campus to make it in time.
“Uh, n-no. Not at all.” Holding her hands up in front of her, she offers me an apologetic smile. “I promise not to drool all over you tomorrow.”
I can’t help but laugh. The first genuine one since I set foot on campus. Hell, the first real one in longer than I care to admit.
“It’s not a problem at all. Perhaps we can chat some more. I’d love to hear how far you think the Steelhawks will go this season.”
Her eyes do that wide, shocked thing again before she nods like a bobblehead. “Y-yeah. That sounds great. Oh, I’ll bring my spreadsheets.” Her cheeks flush impossibly darker, and she cringes. “I’m a bit of a stats nerd.”
My grin only widens. Oh yeah, I think I like this girl . “Me too. Give me all the spreadsheets and charts.”
She chuckles, still nodding.
“I’ve gotta run,” I say, turning halfway toward the exit. “But I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow,” she confirms before I’m out the door.
Rushing down the steps, there’s a grin on my face.
I might have just found my first college friend.