Chapter Two Hattie
Chapter Two
Hattie
Too many weeks off, and the long travel has you moving in slow motion today. Thankfully they were too.” These are Coach’s last words before he tells us the bus will be out front in fifteen minutes to take us back to the hotel, or we can stay and catch the men’s team play and ride back with them.
About half of us choose the latter. By the time we change and walk upstairs to the main rink, where the boys are playing, it’s the last period and Valley is winning one to zero.
We sit directly behind the Valley bench.
My gaze snags on Colin. He leans forward like he wants to be out there so badly he can barely hold himself back.
His hair is sweaty, making the light strands appear darker.
His cheeks are ruddy from the cold and exertion, and his chest is rising and falling with his labored breathing.
“Wheel! Wheel!” he yells, drawing my attention to the action on the ice. Another Valley U player breaks away with the puck and skates hard down to the opposite end. He gets off a shot, but the goalie saves it. The Valley U team groans with disappointment.
The lines change during the stop in play.
Colin is the first one over the wall and out.
He barks orders at his team as they set up for a face-off.
Even like this he looks friendlier than he did with me last night.
I really don’t understand what it is about me that offends him so much.
My ex, Denny, got along with him fine. They were teammates until Denny graduated this past spring.
They weren’t best friends or anything, but when we’d run into Colin on campus or at parties, he and Denny would talk.
Even then Colin barely acknowledged me. Denny said I was overreacting, but I don’t think that I am.
As if my thinking about him has conjured him to look this way, Colin glances up from where he stands on the ice. His mouth pulls into a thin, hard line behind the cage of his helmet.
It could be the game making him look all surly. Or the other team’s players. Maybe sweat is dripping in his eyes and making them sting. But somehow, I doubt it. His annoyance always seems to stem from one thing. Me.
“Wow. Did Jett get hotter over the summer, or am I still dehydrated from the game?” Annabelle asks from my right.
I grunt a response.
Her replying huff of a laugh makes me shift in my seat.
“I forgot you two have a whole thing,” she says.
“We don’t have a thing.”
“Please. It’s so obvious there’s tension between you. He ignores you, and you ramble at him. It’s hard to watch.”
“You can just say it. He hates me.”
“I don’t know if he hates you, but he doesn’t like you very much.”
I already knew this, of course, but it’s embarrassing that other people have noticed too.
“Did you two used to go out or something?” Annabelle asks, looking back at the action on the ice.
“Me and Colin?” I make a face, even though she isn’t watching, and shake my head. “Definitely not.”
Even entertaining the idea makes a shiver run through me.
It isn’t a completely unpleasant shiver.
I blame his athletic ability. It’s a hockey crush.
That’s all. It has nothing to do with his broad shoulders or the flecks of gold in his eyes or the tattoo on his forearm.
They’re numbers, coordinates, I heard him tell someone once, though I have no clue for where.
“I didn’t think so. You were with Denny forever.”
“Since the first week of freshmen year,” I confirm. I met him at an off-campus party, and we just clicked.
“Is it weird now that he’s graduated and you two are . . .” She trails off as if she doesn’t want to remind me we’re broken up.
“No.” I shake my head. “Don’t get me wrong. It’s still odd not talking to or seeing him, but things had fizzled out.”
She gives me a reassuring smile.
“What about you and Mikey?” I ask. She’s been in an on-again, off-again relationship with a sophomore hockey player since last winter.
“We’ve only hung out once this summer, a few days after classes ended, but he’s been texting since we saw each other at the airport yesterday.”
“Yeah?” I pull my attention away from Colin and his broody scowl. “Do I need to do a room check later?”
She rolls her eyes. “No,” she says quickly, then reconsiders. “Not unless you want to give up your single. I don’t think Diane would be happy with me if I brought a guy back to our room.”
We share a laugh and then go back to watching the game. Valley U is easily handling their opponent, despite the scoreboard. Valley U controls the puck. So much that our goalie looks bored on the other end.
The game ends, Valley U taking the win.
It’s tradition on the first day of camp for the coaches to take us out for a team barbecue. We wait for the bus out front of the hotel. I stand back, counting my teammates to make sure we have everyone. Colin is doing the same for his guys, only from inside the bus.
I’m the last one on.
“Hi,” I say as I step up onto the bus.
He’s standing just out of the aisle in the first row of seats on the left behind the driver.
“Hey.” His face is still flushed from the game earlier, but he’s changed into jeans and a plain black T-shirt.
The ends of his hair are wet from a shower, and he’s without the usual backward white baseball cap.
I like his hair. It’s always just a little too long like he perpetually needs a haircut, but it’s thick and a little wavy.
“Excited?” I ask, grinning at him with my best I’m friendly and likable smile. He does not reciprocate it.
“Yeah. Should be fun.”
Translation: As long as you don’t talk to me, it’ll be a great night.
I start past him, then pause. As far as I can see, seats are filled. I search for Annabelle. She’s sitting with Mikey, and when I give her a pleading look, she shrugs. Looks like they’re back on.
“Everyone accounted for?” Coach Lessley asks from behind me.
I turn and smile at him. “Yes. Girls are all here.”
“Boys too,” Colin tells his coach.
“Great. Let’s go eat, then.” The coaches file into the seat opposite Colin. And now I’m the only one not sitting. And there’s only one spot left. Next to him.
Colin seems to realize this at the same time the driver throws the bus in gear and presses on the gas. I lurch forward, throwing my hands out in front of me to stop from slamming into the seat or ground or maybe the windshield, but a strong arm circles my waist and keeps me from going anywhere.
The air whooshes out of my lungs, and my heart pounds against my ribs. I squeak out my surprise, but it must happen quickly and quieter than I think, because as I glance around no one else seems to have noticed that I almost face-planted.
“Thanks.” The word is shaky as I catch my breath.
Colin’s brow furrows as he stares down at me like maybe he thinks I’m a clumsy idiot. Once I’m steady on my feet, he lets go of me.
“No problem,” he says so quietly I almost miss it. He takes his seat back by the window, and I slump into the one beside him.
I take a slow breath to calm my racing heart. I can still feel the weight of his muscular forearm around my middle.
Maybe because of that, or maybe because I hate sitting in silence when everyone around us is chatting happily, I decide to engage him in conversation.
There is no reason this man should hate me.
Despite my constant rambling around him, we haven’t spoken enough that I could have possibly offended him.
“Congrats on winning your game today,” I say.
His jaw works side to side before he replies. “MSU is terrible this year.”
He isn’t wrong.
“Still. Always better to win.”
He’s gone quiet again. I think his initial reply was more instinct, and now he’s realized he’s speaking to me.
“We won too,” I add. “The rest of the team played great, but I was a little slow. Coach moved me to left wing, and I haven’t adjusted yet.”
He doesn’t care, but I can’t stop yapping.
“Anyway . . .” I clasp my hands together in my lap and bounce one leg. His gaze drops there, lingering a beat on the inches of bare skin. I’m wearing my favorite jean shorts, but they seem to have shrunk a few inches over the summer.
I can just imagine what he’s thinking. Ugh. Hattie’s bare legs. Disgusting.
Which, I happen to like my legs, so joke’s on him. I don’t care what he thinks.
“How’s Denny?” he asks with a hint of something in his tone. Condescension, maybe. The question catches me off guard as much as it does that he’s speaking to me without being prompted.
I stare at him, trying to decipher his intention. He’s never been outright rude to me, but it feels like bringing up my ex is a dig aimed to keep me from trying to talk anymore. I won’t lie, it hurts, but I’m determined not to show it.
I force a big, completely unfazed smile at him. “He’s fantastic.”
For all Colin knows, Denny and I have kept in touch and are doing that whole “let’s be friends” thing. We don’t hate each other or anything, so I suppose we are friends. Friends who don’t talk and have no plans to hang out.
“Have you talked to him?” I ask, because now that I think of it, maybe he does know that the last I heard from Denny was the day we broke up a month ago.
They weren’t super-close friends before, but things can change.
It’s possible they became summer BFFs. Maybe my breakup brought the two of them closer.
Colin can finally talk freely about how much he hates me without worrying he’ll offend Denny.
“No,” Colin says, then turns to look out the window.
We ride the rest of the way in silence.
Continuing tradition, we pull up to the lake for our outing. The sun is low in the sky and a breeze blows across the water. It’s so much greener here than in Arizona and the temperature is way more bearable. The day before we left for camp it was one hundred and eleven degrees at home.