10. CORA
CORA
Tonight is one of my favorite traditions—a perfect way to end the summer. Everyone letting loose and having fun before we’re back to classes, practices, traveling—all the chaos of the season. Hard to believe this is my last one.
It’s also the first where I didn’t show up late with Freddy. The hockey team extends the invite to other athletes on campus, but it’s always a bit later than when the hockey guys meet up after the scavenger hunt—they have to award the winners and the losers.
Part of me feels like I don’t belong when I come with the team, but I know they’d tell me otherwise. And then there’s the run-in we had with Freddy while we were looking for clues. I know his blood was boiling the second Lane bumped his shoulder with mine.
It was a look I rarely saw when we were together. I thought it was because we were so far past the idea of jealousy, soulmates, or some smoke screen. Obviously not. What I find most annoying is how I was one of those women who just blindly thought this was it. I despise how I didn’t see it sooner.
Leo wraps me in a bear hug and cuts through the noise. “You and Maxwell came in second! Good team.”
It’s hard not to smile at him. Leo's a junior and the definition of golden retriever energy—unless he’s trying to murder you on the ice.
“Glad you guys were partners. These guys have been tough to crack for him,” he continues.
“He’s a solid addition to the team. I hope they give him a fair shot,” I say.
“Once the season starts, it should be good. You know how it is. Everyone’s gotta smooth out the chip on their shoulder.”
Barely, but it’s clear GLU hockey takes the team mentality seriously. Maybe that’s how they were able to break through the mediocre team results and start winning when it counted. My dad’s been the coach for eight years and it wasn’t until his fourth season he started seeing results.
Many of my nights were spent sitting in a cold hockey rink, watching the Great Lakes U hockey team get obliterated by anyone and everyone. That is certainly not the case now. Tickets are prized possessions and it’s one of the pulls for students picking between colleges.
Looking over, I see Lane standing with a few teammates and I catch his eyes on me. He slowly drinks out of the red plastic cup, probably filled with beer from the keg, his eyes peeking over the rim.
I can practically feel his attention. Ugh, I hate that I love it. Why didn’t I just take the chance and tell him who I was when we met? Maybe that would’ve made things different. Fuck, I want them to be different. But even if I had told the truth, I’d still be the coach’s daughter and off-limits.
His eyes break from me to Troy as the captain tries to get everyone’s attention.
“Better not bitter. Welcome to the slogan for this season!” Everyone claps, cheering for the reveal.
“Last season, we were so close to winning it all. Now, sometimes it’s easy to be bitter.
Find something to blame, something out of our control.
This season... it’s all about being better.
” Troy lifts his glass and everyone follows suit.
Damn. He’s good at this. I’ve always liked Troy; he treats me like a real person and not some weird transplant just because I'm the coach’s kid.
The scavenger hunt is a perfect example.
He’s the new captain this year and, like the previous, he included me since I'll spend almost the same amount of time with the team as someone on the roster would. Troy's a good one.
He announces the winners and then it’s time for the losers. The tradition is they have to sing karaoke throughout the party, every thirty minutes, and attendees get to pick songs. When Lane hears that, he walks over to me, his brows pressed into his forehead.
Everyone claps as the two losers, both freshman, start hyping themselves up on the stage they will frequent tonight.
“I owe you,” he says, taking a slow sip of his drink while his eyes lock onto the stage. “That is my nightmare.”
The compliment catches me off guard.
“You hanging out with Frankie tonight?” he asks, keeping his voice even as he brings the red cup to his lips.
“Freddy.” I correct him. “And no. I don’t even think he’ll show tonight.” I look around and see it’s still just the hockey core.
“Right. Freddy.” It’s amazing how bored he sounds. “I bet he shows.”
“You have a crystal ball I don’t know about?”
“You didn’t see how he looked at me? Only thought I existed once I put my arm around you. He was jealous. He knows I’m here. Therefore, he will be here.” Lane says this all matter of fact. He doesn’t look at me when he talks, just takes in the scene around us instead.
I sigh, wishing I had a drink in my hand. “He wasn’t jealous.” I don’t know why I lie. Freddy was practically seething and I loved it. Maybe my pettiness is showing but he ruined my summer, and if I could annoy him for an afternoon, it’s worth it.
“Keep telling yourself that,” he scoffs, his voice pointed and landing like a jab.
My jaw tightens. “You’re so charming, you know that?”
He finally looks at me with his head tilted, like he’s sizing me up and finds the whole thing amusing. “Didn’t realize you needed me to be.”
“I don’t.” I cross my arms, glaring at the stage where the freshmen are butchering a Backstreet Boys song. “I was just making an observation.”
“Funny. I was doing the same.” Lane takes another deliberately slow sip. “The only difference is mine was accurate.”
I snap my head toward him. “You don’t even know me.” The cliche of the words ring and I wish I would’ve said something else.
His eyes flick over me once, sharp and unbothered. “I know enough.”
That stings more than it should. “And what exactly do you think you know?”
He smirks but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “That you like the attention. From me. From Freddy. Anything to make you feel something, right?”
The words hit, but I won’t let him see that. “Wow. You’re just full of unsolicited psychoanalysis, huh? What are you—team transfer or team therapist?”
“Just know trouble when I see it.” Lane’s voice is flat and borderline uninterested.
I huff a laugh, leaning in closer just to get under his skin. “Funny. I was about to say the same thing about you. And I think between the two of us, one has been in much more trouble than the other.”
For the first time, his smirk falters, jaw ticking like I hit a nerve. Then he shakes his head and looks back toward the crowd, dismissing me.
I can’t stand how much I want his attention.