Page 22
Story: The Boyfriend Zone
"I am not going to another hockey house party," I declared, focusing intently on my laptop screen and the half-written essay that was due in approximately eighteen hours. "Some of us have finals to study for."
"Exactly why you need a break," Ava insisted, perched on the edge of my desk with the determined expression that meant resistance was futile. "All work and no play makes Lucas a dull journalist."
"I'm perfectly fine with being dull," I countered. "Dull finishes assignments on time and graduates with honors."
"Dull also misses out on the social experience of college," Nate chimed in from his position sprawled across my bed. "Come on, Lucas. One night of fun won't tank your GPA."
I looked between my two friends, their expressions varying degrees of pleading and mischievous. "Why this party, specifically? There are dozens happening this weekend."
Ava and Nate exchanged glances that immediately raised my suspicions.
"It's at the hockey house," Nate admitted. "Zach and Tristan are throwing another huge holiday thing before everyone heads home for break."
Ah, now their interest made sense. "So this isn't about my work-life balance at all. This is about you wanting to hang out with Zach, and Ava wanting to photograph drunk athletes doing stupid things for her portfolio."
"Two birds, one stone," Ava shrugged, not even bothering to deny it. "Besides, Sean will be there."
"Sean and I already have plans to study together tomorrow," I pointed out, though my resolve was weakening at the thought of seeing him in a more relaxed setting. With finals and end-of-semester projects, our time together had been limited lately.
"Studying," Nate repeated skeptically. "Is that what the kids are calling it these days?"
I threw a crumpled paper at his head, which he dodged easily. "Yes, studying. Some of us take our education seriously."
"And some of us know that all studying and no fun makes for a very cranky Lucas," Nate retorted. "Come on, it'll be good for you. One night to relax before we all split up for break."
He had a point there. Winter break was approaching rapidly, and with it two weeks of separation from Sean as we both headed home to our respective families. The thought of not seeing him every day was already making me antsy, though I tried not to show it.
"Please?" Ava added, deploying her most persuasive smile. "For me? Consider it your holiday gift."
I sighed, knowing when I was beaten. "Fine. One hour, maybe two. But I'm not drinking much because I still need to finish this essay tomorrow."
Ava clapped her hands triumphantly. "Excellent! Wear something cute. Not one of your grandpa sweaters."
"My sweaters are comfortable and practical," I protested.
"They're hideous," Nate corrected. "And while Sean seems to find your questionable fashion choices endearing, perhaps spare him the embarrassment at his team party."
I was still grumbling about their fashion critiques hours later as I stood before my closet, debating what constituted "cute but not trying too hard" for a hockey house party. I eventually settled on dark jeans and a blue button-down that Sean had once mentioned brought out my eyes. Not that I was dressing for him specifically. Much.
"Ready to party?" Nate appeared in my doorway, looking unfairly attractive with minimal effort. His relationship—or whatever he and Zach were calling it these days—had brought out a newfound attention to his appearance.
"As I'll ever be," I replied, grabbing my phone and wallet. "Remember, two hours max. I have work to do tomorrow."
"Sure, sure," Nate agreed with a dismissive wave. "Let's go."
The infamous Hockey House was located just off campus, a slightly dilapidated Victorian that had been passed down through generations of team members. As we approached, I could already hear music pulsing from within, the windows glowing warmly against the cold December night.
"Maybe this was a mistake," I muttered as we climbed the porch steps. "I'll just feel out of place."
"You'll be fine," Nate assured me, pushing open the door without knocking. "Just relax and have fun. Novel concept, I know."
The living room was already packed, bodies moving to the music, the air warm with the press of people and the subtle scent of spilled beer. Red and green Christmas lights had been strung haphazardly around the room, giving everything a festive if slightly disorienting glow.
I scanned the crowd, looking for Sean, suddenly feeling like a fish out of water. Despite how far we'd come, I still sometimes felt like an outsider looking in.
Then I felt a warm hand at the small of my back, and turned to find Sean smiling down at me, eyes bright with pleasure at seeing me.
"You came," he said, leaning in to be heard over the music. "I wasn't sure you would."
"Ava and Nate were very persuasive," I replied, already feeling more at ease with him beside me. "And I wanted to see you."
His smile widened, and he kept his hand at my back as we moved through the crowd, a protective gesture that made my heart flutter embarrassingly. Sean waved to teammates as we passed, calling out greetings, completely unselfconscious about my presence at his side.
We found Zach by the kitchen, proudly showing off a keg that had been decorated to look like a reindeer, complete with pipe cleaner antlers and a red pom-pom nose.
"The lovebirds arrive!" he declared, handing us each a red plastic cup filled with something that smelled potent. "Drink up, it's my special holiday punch."
Sean took a cautious sip and immediately winced. "Damn, Zach. What did you put in this?"
I tried mine and nearly sputtered. "Did you pour half a bottle of rum into the mix?"
"Only a third," Zach grinned unrepentantly. "It's festive! Candy canes and alcohol poisoning, name a more iconic holiday duo."
Nate appeared beside him, eyeing the punch skeptically. "Please tell me there's something non-toxic available as well."
"For you? Anything," Zach replied, the teasing note in his voice softening into something more genuine. "There's beer in the fridge and soda on the counter."
I watched their interaction with amusement, noting the way Zach's hand briefly touched Nate's back as he guided him toward the drinks—the same protective gesture Sean often used with me. Whatever was developing between them seemed to be progressing nicely, even if they still bickered half the time.
The party was in full swing, someone executing increasingly precarious tricks on a skateboard in the dining room while a group in the corner had started an off-key but enthusiastic rendition of "All I Want for Christmas Is You." Ava was in her element, camera in hand, capturing the chaos with obvious glee.
"Are all hockey parties like this?" I asked Sean as we found a slightly quieter spot near the window.
"Pretty much," he laughed. "Though this one's tame so far. No one's tried to jump off the roof into a snowbank yet."
"Yet?"
"Give it time," Sean grinned, slipping his arm around my waist. "Having fun?"
"Surprisingly, yes," I admitted. "It's not as intimidating as I expected."
"Good," Sean said, his expression softening. "I want you to see this side of the team too. Not just the serious game-face side, but the goofy, let-loose side."
"I appreciate that," I said sincerely. "It feels like being let into the inner circle."
"You are in the inner circle," Sean replied simply. "Have been for a while now, whether you realized it or not."
Before I could respond, Zach appeared again, dragging Nate by the hand. "Beer pong tournament," he announced. "Sean and Lucas versus Nate and me. Winner gets bragging rights until next semester."
"I'm terrible at beer pong," I protested.
"Perfect," Zach grinned. "Then we'll definitely win. Come on, it'll be fun."
Sean looked at me with raised eyebrows, silently asking if I was up for it. There was something infectious about the holiday atmosphere, the music and laughter, the way everyone seemed determined to shed the stress of the semester. And the way Sean looked at me, like there was nowhere else he'd rather be than right here with me.
"Why not?" I agreed, setting down my still-mostly-full cup of deadly punch. "But I'm warning you all now, my hand-eye coordination is abysmal."
"That's why you have me," Sean assured me, guiding me toward the table set up for the game. "I'll carry the team."
"My hero," I replied dryly, though I couldn't help smiling at his confidence.
The game was predictably disastrous on my part, though Sean did indeed manage to compensate for my terrible aim. Nate was surprisingly good, and Zach played with the focused intensity he brought to everything competitive. The trash talk flowing between all of us grew increasingly ridiculous as the game progressed.
"Is that the best you can do, journalist?" Zach taunted after I missed an easy shot. "Maybe stick to typing words instead of throwing balls."
"Big talk from someone who missed the net four times at practice yesterday," Sean fired back. "Maybe stick to running your mouth instead of playing sports."
"At least I can walk and chew gum at the same time," Nate interjected, landing a perfect shot that made Sean groan. "Unlike some people who need tutoring in basic coordination."
"Says the guy who tripped over his own camera bag yesterday," I pointed out.
The back-and-forth continued, drawing a small crowd of spectators who cheered and jeered along with every shot. By the time Zach sank the winning cup, narrowly defeating us, I was laughing too hard to be disappointed by the loss.
"Good game," Sean conceded, high-fiving both Nate and Zach. "We want a rematch next time, though."
"Anytime," Zach agreed, his arm casually draped around Nate's shoulders. "We'll be happy to destroy you again."
"In your dreams," Sean scoffed. "We were just warming up."
As the tournament continued with new teams, I stepped outside onto the back patio for some fresh air. The night was clear and cold, stars visible above despite the ambient light from campus. I took a deep breath, enjoying the contrast between the crisp winter air and the chaos inside.
"Too loud in there?" Sean's voice came from behind me as he stepped outside, immediately wrapping his arm around me. "Or hiding from a rematch?"
"Just needed a moment," I replied, leaning into his warmth. "But I was absolutely hiding from a rematch too."
Sean laughed, rubbing his hands together for warmth. "Can't say I blame you. Zach gets way too competitive about beer pong. It's embarrassing, really."
"Says the guy who was calling out strategic ball placement like we were in the NHL finals," I teased.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Sean replied with mock innocence. "I'm the picture of casual sportsmanship."
"Sure. That's why you spent five minutes explaining the optimal trajectory for my third shot."
"Which you then proceeded to bounce off the ceiling fan, if I recall correctly."
"A deliberate distraction technique," I insisted. "Very advanced strategy."
Through the window, we could see our friends inside: Nate dramatically dancing on a coffee table to cheers from the crowd, Ava capturing the moment on camera, Zach watching Nate with undisguised affection despite his performative eye-rolling.
"It's nice, isn't it?" I said softly. "All of us together like this."
"Like a weird little family," Sean agreed. "Dysfunctional as hell, but somehow it works."
I turned to face him, struck by how beautiful he looked in the soft glow from the house lights, his eyes reflecting the distant stars. Without thinking, I reached up and pulled him down for a kiss, trying to convey everything I was feeling.
Sean responded immediately, his arms circling my waist as he drew me closer. The kiss deepened, warming me despite the cold night air, making me forget everything but the sensation of his mouth on mine, his body pressed against me.
When we finally broke apart, Sean rested his forehead against mine, his breath forming small clouds between us. "What was that for?" he asked, his voice low. "Not that I'm complaining."
"Just because," I replied. "Because I'm happy. Because this night is perfect. Because you're you."
His smile was soft, intimate, meant only for me. "I like making you happy."
We stayed outside a little longer, talking about nothing important—plans for break, classes for my next semester, the truly atrocious Christmas sweater Tristan was wearing inside. When the cold finally drove us back in, the party had shifted into a mellower phase, with smaller groups gathered around the living room.
I curled up on the oversized couch with Sean, feeling pleasantly drowsy from the combination of one drink, the warm room, and the comfort of Sean's presence. Nate and Zach were in the kitchen, arguing good-naturedly about the proper way to make hot chocolate while raiding the refrigerator for leftover desserts.
"We should probably head out soon," I murmured, even as I nestled closer to Sean's side. "It's getting late."
"Okay," Sean agreed, his fingers lazily carding through my hair. "Five more minutes?"
Through the window, I could see that it had started to snow, delicate flakes drifting past the streetlights. The music had shifted to something softer, the conversations around us low and intimate. I tilted my head to look up at Sean, feeling a surge of emotion so strong it caught me by surprise.
"I'm really happy," I whispered, the simple words inadequate for the depth of what I was feeling.
Sean's eyes softened as he leaned down to kiss me, a gentle press of lips that somehow conveyed everything words couldn't. "Me too," he murmured against my mouth.