Page 6

JACK

S WANNY LAUGHS . I think this message might be for you. He holds out his phone.

Tell Big Ass Boy I have his stuff now.

I grin. I like her.

Who?

Andy the RA. She thinks of me as Big Ass Boy, and in my head she’s Andy the RA. We already have nicknames for each other.

He looks back at the text and shakes his head. You into abuse?

That’s her style. Kinda sarcastic. But she’s chill.

Andy reminds me of a tiny, bossy instructor I had in summer hockey camp when I was twelve.

She was this dynamo with wicked skills. I learned a lot from her, and she was also my first crush.

I fantasized about her every night at camp.

Nothing happened, of course. Even if she had been my age, I had no game then. Not that I have game now.

No accounting for taste, Swanny sniffs.

Man, another date? You have more luck with women than anyone. What’s your secret? Bergy jumps into the conversation, as he does whenever we talk about women.

No secret. Besides, it’s not a date. I haven’t even asked her out yet.

Mats said not to rush into anything, but I did some thinking.

I want to be with someone who is honest and straightforward.

I’m not smart enough to figure out what a woman wants unless she tells me.

Besides, all that second-guessing stuff is too much work.

So far, Andy seems like someone who would tell me the truth, even if it hurts.

When she’s pissed, she acts pissed. Like last night, when she booted me out of her room.

But today at the Student Union Building she looked completely different; smiling and happy.

And she’s a nice person too; she’s now helped me out not once, but twice.

Besides, we have something huge in common.

Both of us were blindsided by painful breakups.

Her writing is so good and so relatable.

She described that hollow pain you feel when someone you love decides so casually that you’re not the right person anymore.

How shocking it is that they can be in love with you one day and walk away the next.

How the breakup cuts into your confidence until you wonder if you’re the damaged one.

The best part is that when Andy writes about breakups, the pain sounds epic and important, rather than pathetic.

I can’t tell her any of this though, because it will only remind her that I read her private journal. In my defence, my sisters had diaries, but they were always labelled Keep out and Yes, this means you, Jack.

Swanny watches me pull on my shoes. Why don’t you ask her to the team party we’re having next weekend?

Don’t we have an exhibition game?

Yeah, but we’ll do something afterwards. Lots of our parties are after games. Besides, once the regular season gets underway, we’ll have to buckle down. So, party while we can.

Would Andy enjoy a hockey party? She didn’t seem impressed by the fact I play hockey, so maybe not. I’ll just go with the flow. Of course, that’s how I got into this mess in the first place. But maybe it’s fate—one thing leads to another. I went to Jenny’s room because I was supposed to meet Andy.

I head over to Humphrey Hall. It’s a nice afternoon and everyone is hanging out in the sunshine like they’re trying to absorb every drop. It’s exactly like back home.

I walk past Jenny’s door; it’s open and I glance inside. She’s lying on her bed, scrolling on her phone.

She spots me and smiles. Oh hey, Jack.

She raises herself up onto an elbow and her hair falls over one eye. Her long blonde hair was what caught my attention in the first place. It’s exactly like Cori’s. But Cori never wore shorts that short.

Hey. I stay in the doorway, feeling uneasy just being here again.

Too bad about last night. You should call me another time. I’ll give you my number, she suggests.

Is she serious? She has a boyfriend, and I’m not into cheaters. But I don’t want to be rude, so I smile weakly and shake my head. Sorry, I don’t have my phone.

Jenny’s smile widens. She jumps up and snags a Sharpie from her desk, then slinks right up to me. She pulls me over by the wrist and scrawls her number on my forearm. As she’s doing this, I can see right down her top into the valley between her tits. My dick hardens. My dick is a dick.

You’re even cuter in the daylight, she purrs up at me.

I pull my arm away and mutter something about later, even though I’d rather not see her again. I continue down the hall and knock on Andy’s door.

Enter.

When I walk in, Andy is sitting at her desk and working on her laptop. She spins around in her chair to face me.

She’s wearing grey sweatpants and a black T-shirt that says English Majors Get Lit.

Her feet are bare, her glossy hair is pinned up in a messy bun, and her glasses are sliding down her nose.

Is it weird that I find Andy in her studying clothes so much hotter than the half-undressed Jenny?

Maybe it’s because Andy seems like she’s authentic and nice.

Although, that curvy body doesn’t hurt. Never before have I wanted to trace the letters En and it so badly.

Ah, Jack. She jumps up and snags a plastic bag off the floor, thrusting it towards me. Here’s your stuff.

Oh. Thank you so much. I try to edge further into the room, but she’s in the way. Was it a problem to get everything back?

Yeah. I had to stop for five minutes on the way to my own room, so hardship city. She sits back down and pushes her glasses into place with her forefinger. Was there something else?

Ahh, I begin, but my mind blanks. I want to hang out, but Andy clearly wants me to leave.

She makes a half-spin back towards her laptop, but before she can boot me out again, I blurt out, Your room is nice.

She pauses and faces me again. Are you kidding?

Of course not. I point to the afghan draped across her bed. My grandma had a blanket exactly like that. I think she made it.

Well, I crocheted that one. I needed something to do during a long car ride. Are you into granny-core? Andy sounds amused, and I inch further inside.

Not even sure what that is. But it feels cozy in here.

She has stuffed bookshelves, a corkboard of photos, and a pile of pillows on her bed. Last night, I felt comfortable here despite everything that had happened. And based on how the rest of my night went, I wish I could have stayed longer.

Andy exhales loudly. Okay, well, as much I’m enjoying this home I chat, I do—

Wait, I interrupt. I brought back your clothes.

I reach into my pack and pull out her sweatshirt. Here’s your bunny hug.

She snickers. My what now?

Your bunny hug. Uh, that’s what we call these where I’m from.

And where would that be? Planet Miffy?

I cock my head to the side. I’m not sure where or what Planet Miffy is.

Uh, no. I’m from Rosetown, it’s a town near Saskatoon. Her face remains blank. In Saskatchewan, I add.

Okay, Saskatchewan I’ve heard of. But I’ve never been there. Do you have a lot of rabbits?

The normal amount, I guess? I’m not sure what she’s getting at, so I hand her a small bag. I also got you a new pair of leggings. I kinda blew through your old ones.

Oh…wow. You didn’t have to do that. You went all the way to the Target in Duluth? She unfolds the leggings and holds them out in front of her. They look perfect. I’m impressed that you got the right size.

I have three older sisters. I’ve spent a lot of time in women’s changerooms. Oh shit, way to sound like a perv. I quickly add, Not in , I mean around, like outside. Jesus.

Andy laughs. It’s the first time I’ve heard her laugh, and it’s nice. Soft and lilting. Her laugh makes me smile.

Seriously though, this wasn’t necessary. She looks up at me and smiles. Her whole face glows when she smiles.

Well, you’ve done a ton for me in the past twenty-four hours— I begin as she gets up to put the leggings in her dresser.

Yeah, but this is it, right? She turns to face me, and she’s so cute. A little scary too, because her eyes are stern and searching. I could never bullshit her. But that’s exactly what I want, right?

Since it doesn’t feel like there’s going to be any more small talk, I plunge right in. Would you like to go out sometime? We’re having a party next weekend at the hockey house. You could come by—with friends, if you want.

I’ve never seen a jaw drop in real life before, but Andy’s mouth hangs open in shock as she blinks at me. She looks like she wants to say something, but no words are coming out. It’s not a good kind of surprise, either.

I backpedal hard. Or, if you don’t like parties, we could do something else. Watch a movie? Coffee? We could just start with coffee.

Andy closes her mouth and straightens her shoulders. Are you asking me out? On a date ? She makes it sound like I want us to go on a trip to Mars.

Uh, yeah. Why is this so unbelievable to her?

She smiles at me again, but it’s a pitying smile. Look, Jack, you seem nicer than my first impression, but I don’t think we’re really compatible.

I don’t agree. I think we have a lot in common.

Like what? she asks skeptically.

I don’t mention that we’re both fresh off serious breakups because she’ll get mad all over again, but before I can come up with a different answer, she continues.

Realistically, I don’t see why someone like you— she motions to my face and chest, —is interested in someone like me. I’m more the indie, intellectual type. Not the sports girlfriend type.

You seem pretty set on stereotyping me as a dumb jock.

Yes, I’m a hockey player. And maybe my grades are on the average side. But I have other interests too.

Andy crosses her arms and squints at me. Is this some kind of bet or challenge? I’m sure a guy like you has lots of women to choose from. You can skip the ones who aren’t interested.

I make one last attempt. No, it’s for real. I’d like to get to know you better. I really think we could be good together.

She lets out a huff. Seriously? Fine. I’ll give you three reasons why we are completely incompatible.

She holds up one finger. First, I’m a senior and you’re a freshman.

Before I can argue, she shushes me. Let me finish. Maybe it’s silly, but that’s a huge age gap in this phase of our lives, especially in terms of maturity and life stage.

A second finger goes up. Two, you’re a player. The kind of guy who hooks up with women whose names he doesn’t even know.

Wait, that’s not— I protest, but stop the moment she grasps my wrist. The touch of her soft fingers on my skin feels electric. Then she gently twists my arm to reveal Jenny’s swirly writing.

See? You couldn’t even make it here without getting some poor deluded woman’s phone number. She’s the one you should be going out with. Andy drops my arm, but the heat of her hand is branded on my skin.

She holds up a third finger. Finally, you’re a jock. I hate sports. I have no idea why people waste so much time even watching them, much less playing. We would have nothing to talk about.

Well, that’s the only thing I can’t argue about. Hockey is a huge part of my life. Andy sounds completely sure of herself. I can hear my sister Amelia saying, Telling a woman why her opinion is wrong is dumb and futile.

My shoulders slump. I stuff the bag with my gear into my backpack and zip it up.

Okay. See ya.

At that, I turn and leave, closing the door softly behind me. So much for fate arranging our meeting. I can’t help but feel disappointed that Andy wouldn’t even give us a chance.