Page 5 of Sin Bin (BU Hockey Season 2, #1)

Fallon

I ’m not a prude. I lost my virginity freshman year of high school to Chris Langley in the back of the bus on a school trip to Charleston.

That’s not prudish.

But it was dark. Everyone was asleep. And we had strategically placed blankets.

Chris Langley was also apparently under the impression that sex was a race because it was over in a matter of minutes.

But still.

We had decorum, dammit.

Unlike my roommates.

I say roommates even though Cody’s name isn’t on the lease, and he doesn’t pay rent. He’s there more than I am, he eats everything in our fridge, and all his manscaping shit is scattered across our bathroom counter.

That makes him a roommate. A shitty one, but one nonetheless. And today was about as shitty as it gets. I walked in to find them naked and grinding on each other in the middle of the living room. Kendra’s hands were on the coffee table and Cody was drilling into her from behind.

The worst part is that when I walked past and issued an icy glare, they both returned it. Like I was the asshole!

Kendra and I were supposed to make pizzas and watch movies tonight, but I did not feel like sticking around to watch them suck face on the couch while I pretended to be interested in a movie.

So instead, I’m here at the Wolf’s Den watching practice.

Between Booker the hockey player and Emersyn the ice dancer, I’ve spent an alarming percentage of my life rink side.

It used to bother me, but I’m over that now.

The athletic gene skipped me entirely, but neither of my siblings can draw a passable stick figure, so I think we’re even.

Besides, I’d much rather sketch on a notepad or a computer than freeze my tits off like this every day.

Annabelle takes the seat next to mine and hands me a paper cup with a little cardboard collar.

I sign the word for coffee and when she nods excitedly, I blow her a kiss. This should warm me up. Of course, it might also keep me up all night, but maybe Cody and Kendra will have worn themselves out by the time I make it back.

Josie sits on my other side and Maggie settles into the row right in front of us. Calla’s bundled up, but I can see she’s got a set of baby-sized headphones on.

The girls chatter around me, and I notice Josie signing, but I’m more focused on the ice than I am on them.

The guys are playing like shit.

It’s only the first week of training, and it’s only a scrimmage.

That much is true. But if I know anything about athletes, then I know that it’s never just training or just practice.

It matters. Especially when there’s a crowd.

And these stands are packed. After all, who wants to see the national championship team kick its own ass and melt down a few weeks before the season starts.

My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I briefly wonder if it’s Kendra, messaging to apologize.

We’re not lifelong besties or anything, but we were randomly selected to room together last year and it went so well we thought we’d do it again.

Of course, that was before Kendra got a leech stuck to her face. Sorry, not a leech. A boyfriend.

A glance at my screen shows that Kendra isn’t the least bit sorry, or maybe that she’s still busy having sex with Cody. I swipe up anyway. A conversation with my little sister beats the dream of an apology every single time.

Em: How are classes? How are Gran and Grandad?

Fallon: Classes are fine, but it’s only day three. Our grandparents are good, too. They have a new hobby. It’s a game called “Find Fallon a Boyfriend Before She Does Something Crazy Like Fly on a Plane by Herself or Assert Her Independence”

Em: That sounds like a terrible game. No stars.

Fallon: Completely agree. I love those two dearly, but I don’t need them to play matchmaker for me, or tell me how to live my life.

Em: Wow. That’s a lot. Kinda makes me glad I’m all the way out in California.

Fallon: Speaking of…How’s Cali? How’s the wide world of ice dancing? Have you kicked anyone in the head today?

Em: Not yet, but the day is still young. I’m not interrupting roomie bonding time, am I? Aren’t you watching a movie marathon tonight?

Fallon: More like a live porn-a-thon. I walked in to find Kendra and her boyfriend having sex in the living room.

Em: Ew. Wait, are they hot? Because maybe…

Fallon: Nope. Stop that. Ew. Yuck. Also, who raised you?

Em: The internet.

Fallon: Fair.

Em: So what are you up to? Don’t tell me you’re studying. Classes just started!

Fallon: I’m at the Wolf’s Den for open practice.

Em: Does the team look good?

Em: Scratch that. Does Ollie look good?

Em: What’s wrong with me? Of course he does. That man is sex in a suit. Or a hockey jersey. Or…

Fallon: Stoppppppp. The team looks like shit and Ollie does, too.

Em: You are a terrible liar.

Fallon: I’m serious. If this is the way they play all year, I’m not sure we’ll win one game, let alone a freaking championship.

Fallon: And fine. Ollie looks good. His personality sucks, but he has a nice face.

Em: And a killer body. You should console him after the shitty practice. Offer him a backrub or a dickrub.

Fallon: Oh. My. God. You are feral. I swear Mom found you in the woods and brought you home because you’re cute.

Em: Can you blame her? Speaking of…I’ve got to go. I’ve got a chem test this week and she’s my study buddy.

Fallon: Love you both.

When the excruciating practice is over, I follow the girls out of the arena. It’s a little too early to head home, so when Josie insists I join the team for wings at Wolfie’s, I don’t protest.

But maybe I should have. The bar is crowded, and I can feel the vibrations of the too-loud music. It’s giving me a headache. The food is good, but the company is lackluster.

Because yes, we have a table with twenty seats and Ollie Jablonski chose to sit in the seat next to me.

I’m ignoring him in favor of my dinner, but that won’t last long. I’m down to a half-eaten chicken wing and two fries. The burnt ones. Yuck. I push my empty basket aside and reach for my wallet. Out of the corner of my eye, I watch as Ollie waves me off.

“ I’ve got it ,” he says, signing as he speaks.

When we met two years ago, I didn’t know he was fluent in ASL, but the man could give freaking lessons.

And don’t tell him I said this, but I like how he signs even when I have my hearing aids in or we’re close enough to hear each other talk.

Despite what a lot of people thing, my hearing aids don’t magically restore my hearing.

They amplify sound enough that my brain can process it, but the way I “hear” is different than the way most people do.

For some reason, Ollie’s attuned to that, and I appreciate it.

Actually, he could give lessons on a lot of things.

You don’t need to pay for my dinner , I sign. This isn’t a date .

“ It could be ,” he answers back with an exaggerated wink.

“ If you pick Wolfie’s as your first date destination, then you don’t just suck at hockey, you suck at life.” The words fly off my hands and into the universe before I can catch them. Crap. That was a little harsh. True, but harsh.

Ollie winces. “ Okay, tonight was rough. But you don’t understand. These guys are dicks. They were our biggest rivals and now they’re our teammates. It fucking blows .”

I frown as my fingers begin to move. “ So? Unless you all start playing with each other instead of against each other, you won’t make it as far as regionals.

Besides, in professional hockey, aren’t guys traded all the time?

So, doesn’t that mean they have to share the line with guys who used to be their opponents? ”

Ollie blinks at me, almost as though this logic hasn’t occurred to him yet. Just as the realization dawns though, his expression shutters. “ It’s not the same, ” he tells me, his lips and fingers moving rapidly.

Before I can formulate an answer, he stands and tosses a few bills on the table. “ It’s my turn for darts,” he says. “Have a good night, Fallon.”

I sign back the same, but he’s already walking in the other direction.

What the hell just happened? Why is the hockey team’s jester suddenly acting like a prick ?

And more importantly, why do I care?

I may not be religious, much to my grandparents’ dismay, but I firmly believe that donuts are a gift from the heavens. They have divine powers, and you can’t convince me otherwise.

At least, I hope they do, because I need all the help I can get right now.

It’s been a few days since I walked in on Kendra and her boyfriend christening the living room and I can’t keep living like this.

Not only do I fear the presence of bodily fluids on every communal surface, but I miss my friend.

Kendra was fun last year. We didn’t spend every waking second together, but when we had movie nights or study sessions or coffee dates at Drip, it was always a good time.

Things are different since Kendra decided to glue herself to Cody after two months of dating, but that doesn’t mean they have to be bad.

Different can be good. At least, with some ground rules.

Things between us have been awkward since I caught their make out session on the counter, but when I suggested that we sit down and talk it out, she agreed. I figured sugar is a good foundation for a tough conversation, so I strolled downtown for a box of donuts.

Plus, I’ve been in a crabby mood since I ran into Ollie at Wolfie’s last night, so these sugary delights have to work double duty.

When I let myself into the apartment, Kendra’s in the kitchen making coffee.

This has to be a good sign. What goes better together than donuts and coffee. That’s right, nothing. Our brains are obviously in sync. I feel my shoulders visibly relax. I’m not fooling myself that this conversation is going to be easy, but I’ve got a feeling that it’s going to work out.

Setting the box of treats on the counter, I turn toward Kendra. “The coffee smells amazing,” I say. Kendra knows a few ASL signs, but not enough to have a full conversation, so when we’re together, I make sure to have my hearing aids in and to follow her face so I can read her lips.

She smiles, then looks down at the table before looking back up at me. “Are those from The Sweet Spot?”

When I nod, she practically squeals. We cured more than one hangover by devouring donuts last year, even though our tastes are completely opposite.

I’d sell my soul for a raspberry-filled donut that’s been doused in powdered sugar, so you’ll never catch me stealing a bite of Kendra’s maple-glazed bacon donuts.

I don’t think of myself as a traditional girl, but I draw the line at bacon on donuts. Next to donuts? Fine. On top of them? No, thank you.

My roommate practically salivates as I take the lid off the box.

She’s gotten the plates out of the cabinet and grabbed a fist full of napkins, too.

She sets down our coffee mugs as I grab the creamer from the fridge.

We sit down across from each other, choose our donuts from the box, and wait for the other one to start the conversation.

Kendra opens her mouth, and I keep my eyes fixed on her lips as she speaks. She can tell I have my hearing aids in, but she knows me well enough to know that lipreading is essential for me. “It’s been an awkward week, hasn’t it?” she asks.

I was hoping to hear something more along the lines of “I’m sorry you had to see my boyfriend railing me from behind,” but the conversation just started. Maybe she’s warming up to that .

“It has,” I answer. And then, because I just can’t help myself, I keep going. “ I’ve got to be honest. I figured shared spaces were pretty much off-limits when it comes to sex.”

When her brow knits in confusion, I do my best to explain without being too graphic. “ I figured you and Cody would keep your sex life in the bedroom.”

Kendra nods in understanding, and I feel like we’re finally getting somewhere.

Until she starts talking.

“So that’s what this is about,” she begins. “Cody called it, but I thought he was wrong.”

“Called what ?” I ask. “What are you talking about ?”

“You’re jealous , ” Kendra declares with all the confidence of someone who’s just been asked to add two plus two.

I can’t hold back the laughter that bubbles up inside me. “What would I be jealous of ? ”

“Cody sees the way you look at him. I do, too, even if I didn’t want to acknowledge it. If it was just a crush, we could look past it, but you’re making him uncomfortable.”

My chin nearly hits the table. “I’m not crushing on your boyfriend ,” I assure her. That’s not something I’d ever do, even if he didn’t look like a toad.

The pitying look in Kendra’s eyes is almost too much to handle. I’m grateful I haven’t taken a bite of donut yet, because I probably would have tossed my proverbial cookies at the mere suggestion of lusting after Cody.

“Your attraction to him is obvious, even if you’re not ready to admit it. That’s why I wanted to meet up with you today. Cody and I have talked about it over and over, and we keep coming to the same conclusion. We think it’s best for everyone if you find another place to live. ”

“ You want me to move out?” I clarify, unable to wrap my brain about what’s happening right now .

She nods. “That’s really the only way to keep what’s left of our friendship. And since it’s the weekend, that should give you plenty of time.”

It takes a second to process her words, but once I do, I know exactly what comes next.

The two of them are out of their minds if they think the looks I’ve been giving Cody are lustful.

I walked into this conversation with an open mind, figuring that if Kendra agreed to some changes, we could try to make things work.

Obviously, we don’t see eye-to-eye, but that’s because this apartment has become Crazy Town and she’s the mayor.

Decision made, I snatch the donut off her plate, toss it in the box, and close the lid. “ Uh, hell, no. My name is on the lease, not Cody’s.”

Her spine stiffens. “We can get it changed, but the leasing office is closed for the weekend . ”

My only answer is to stare at her.

She huffs out a sigh and focuses on her empty plate. “I’ll make an appointment. Look, I meant what I said. I hope we can salvage our friendship.”

When she glances up at me, I hold her gaze. “I’m not sure what’s more delusional,” I say, “the fact that you think I’m in love with your creepy boyfriend of two minutes, or the fact that you think we’re still friends.”

Grabbing the box of donuts, I turn toward the door, grab my bag, and walk out.