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Lennon

“ T o senior year!” Aubrey yells out, cherry vodka sloshing over the sides of the shot glass she raises in the air. Glasses clink as hands grow sticky with the spilled liquor. Taking a deep breath, I steel myself for the burn as I tip the shot through my parted lips and let it slip down my throat. The familiar heat comes quickly, and I toss my head back and forth, as if it’ll help it go away faster.

Grace makes a similar disgusted face, and we burst into laughter. “Why does that never get easier?”

“Cause it’s the cheapest liquor available,” I yell over the music. “One day we’ll drink smoother stuff.”

“You’d think the guys could spring for something a little better,” Austen chimes in, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and in the process, smearing her red lipstick. Aubrey immediately jumps in to fix it as Austen continues, “I mean, it’s senior year after all.”

As if that instantly means they can afford higher quality alcohol for these parties. It’s the first one of the year, and the buzzing crowd, thumping music, and mix of colognes and perfumes send waves of nostalgia through me. The captain of the guys’ hockey team, along with a few other players, lives in this two-story house off campus and host the majority of our parties. It’s mostly a mix of hockey players from the girls’ and guys’ teams, but a few other students mingle about.

“I’ll miss these,” I say, looking around at the carefree nature of everyone blowing off steam from the first week of classes but also holding the excitement for an entire year of this to come.

Grace jabs my shoulder. “Don’t wish time away.”

I’m not trying to. But it’s easy when I get so caught up in work, classes, and hockey to remind myself that these carefree college days are dwindling.

“Vodka soda?” Austen passes around cups of mixed drinks, and I accept one gratefully. There’s a storage tub full of beers swimming in melted ice and a few miscellaneous bottles of cheap wine that no one is touching on a plastic folding table in the corner. When we first arrived, one of the girls instantly swooped up the two bottles of vodka sitting out to stash away with us for the night.

The floor is sticky beneath my shoes as our group settles into a corner of the kitchen. People overflow into the living room, where a crowd of people gather around a TV screen watching a UFC fight, and another group tries to get some dancing going over in the other corner.

“So are we going to address the elephant in the room?” Aubrey raises her perfectly arched brows at us. I wait her out, knowing she likes the dramatic effect. Everyone else does the same. In a dramatic sigh, she says, “Our new coach?”

“Is that an elephant in the room?” Grace says at the same time Austen murmurs, “One hot elephant.”

“What about him?” I ask, but I already have an idea where she’s going with this. The entire team has been giving him googly eyes all week, and sure enough…

“He’s ridiculously hot,” Aubrey practically swoons, and I laugh, not sure if it’s because of Coach Holloway or the alcohol.

“An understatement,” Austen pipes in. “Do you think he’s ever going to skate with us? I gotta see that man on the ice.”

“Doubt it.” I snort and am immediately on the receiving end of disappointed looks. “I mean, you guys see how he was at practice all week? Half the time sitting on his phone, the other half looking like he was about to doze off right there on the sidelines?” My initial excitement about all the things I was going to learn from the Luke Holloway has fizzled to a simmering disappointment.

“It’s only the first week,” Austen says. “Maybe he’s just warming up.”

Aubrey and another one of our teammates, Jordyn, nod in agreement.

“You guys are so lucky that you get to work with him,” Aubrey pouts. “Maybe I should give goalie a shot.”

Grace laughs while I shake my head at her. “He hasn’t even worked with us, though. Besides the introduction Coach gave us that first day of practice, he hasn’t said a single word to me.” I turn to Grace. “He talk to you at all?”

“No, thank God,” she says into her drink and takes a healthy swig. “He intimidates the hell out of me.”

“Ungrateful,” Austen chides. Grace flips her off.

“How do you think he ended up here?” Jordyn asks. “I mean out of all the schools, or hell, professional teams he could’ve worked at, why ours?”

“That’s assuming he had other offers,” I say.

“Who the hell wouldn’t want him? He was one of the best.”

“Their loss is our gain,” Aubrey says, flipping her dark hair over her shoulder. “At least we get to see him everyday. Makes practice a little more exciting, does it not?”

I disguise my groan with a cough and take a sip of my drink. Yes, Luke Holloway is objectively attractive. Anyone can see that. But after watching him this week and seeing his utter lack of interest and respect for our team and his new position…it takes it all away.

At least for me. Clearly not for the rest of the team.

A few guys from the hockey team approach our circle, and suddenly it’s like Coach Holloway never existed as Aubrey and Jordyn both bat their lashes at two of the players. Bryant comes between me and Grace, and he throws an arm around her shoulders. She immediately leans into him, cheeks turning red, and I stifle a grin.

“What are you ladies talking about over here?” Bryant asks in that easy, smooth tone of his.

“None of your business,” Grace teases. He looks down at her with a glint in his eye, and I have a feeling the two of them aren’t going home alone tonight.

He brushes his fingers over her shoulder. “I’d like to make it my business.”

Grace almost melts into him, her small frame getting swallowed up by his larger one.

“Should I leave you two alone or…” I jerk a thumb over my shoulder.

“No, you can’t leave me!” Grace holds out a hand, and I playfully bat it away.

“Where’s Mason?” Bryant asks me.

I glance around, coming up short, and shrug. “Haven’t seen him for a while.”

He frowns slightly at that.

“What?”

“Just surprised he’s not over here with you.”

Should I also be surprised by that? I mean, yeah, we’re friends. But we don’t need to be glued to each other’s sides at every party. I’m sure we’ll find each other by the end of the night and eventually find ourselves in one of our beds.

I finish the last of my drink and toss the cup in an overflowing trash can next to the kitchen counter. As much as I’d like to have another drink, I have to work in the morning and don’t particularly feel like battling a hangover tomorrow.

“You don’t want another drink?” Bryant asks. “One of the guys has a bottle of whiskey if you want that instead?”

My face twists at the thought. “I’ll pass. Thanks, though. I have to work in the morning, so I’m capping myself for the night.”

“What?” Grace exclaims. “It’s the first party of the year!”

“Exactly.” I laugh. “I have the rest of the year for more.”

“You could call in.”

I give her a rueful look.

“I know. I know you better than that.” She holds her hands up in defense. “I just want you to have fun.”

“I am having fun. But we also have practice tomorrow, and we all can’t show up sluggish.” I direct the last part to the circle and am immediately met with a mixture of boos and shut ups . “Hey, sorry I want to win a championship this year! Thought you all did too.”

It was meant to be light-hearted teasing, but it sends a somber wave through the circle of my teammates. My gut twists, and it’s not from the alcohol.

Close. We were so close.

We could taste it last year. The biggest goal any of us could hope to achieve on this team. My biggest dream for my collegiate athletic career. A Frozen Four Championship.

And I blew it for us.