Page 3 of Final Score

The short, grey-haired man earned respect in every room he walked into. He took no bullshit and never wavered in his quest for greatness. Despite his hard exterior, he was, without a doubt, one of the nicest men I had ever met. I knew the rest of the team shared my thoughts based on how hard we worked to gain his approval.

I take pride in being this team's leader. Especially because of our legacy. When the core group of Juniors started in our freshman year, the NU Devils were a team of misfit underdogs. Sloppy and unorganized, the team hadn’t won a championship in ten years. Until Coach. He whipped us into shape, turning boys into men.

Now the school has two championship titles, and one of the most sought-after hockey programs in the country. We are a force to be reckoned with. We work hard, but we play harder. Which is why we have a party on the schedule for tonight. Typical college kids we party most nights, but after a win it’s even sweeter.

Freshly showered, I pull a clean white t-shirt over my head, as Oliver St. James, my best friend and alternate captain, throws car keys in my direction.

“Ready to celebrate tonight, Cap?” He asks.

“You know it!” I grin, already dreaming about the booze and women that will pack the house tonight. It’s a shame I didn’t get to invite Noah’s ex to the party. I would have loved to see his head explode then. A man can only dream, right?

Exiting the locker room, I pat Ronnie on the back before I go. “Good game tonight kid. You’ll be back on the ice before you know it.”

“Thanks Cap! Gotta let this heal so I can carry out that trophy in March.” What Ronnie lacked in training, he made up for in heart. He’d even been putting in extra practice time to hone his skills. I knew he had a brilliant career ahead of him.

“Who said you’d be the one carrying that trophy out, Fitzpatrick?” I teased, ruffling his blonde hair. He shrugged bashful, easily dodging my assault. “Party at the house tonight. 10 o’clock sharp. Don’t be late.”

CHAPTER 3

Back at my apartment, the anger filled haze that had clouded my judgment began to dwindle. Stabbing a piece of sweet and sour chicken with my fork, I recounted the day’s events to Fallon. Who interjected every few seconds complaining how much she had always hated my now ex-boyfriend.

Fallon and I met on the first day of college orientation. Paired together as roommates, we couldn’t have been more different. Fallon had no filter, always saying the first thing that was on her mind. Whereas I was more subdued, choosing my words carefully before speaking. She lived in the color black and listened to all different music. I loved bright colors and was a country music girl. Yet, despite our differences, we had bonded over decorating our dorm room, and the rest was history.

“God, Noah was such a prick. Do you remember when he forgot your birthday? Or when he got mad about how many times you could see him during the week? Don’t even get me started on your shitty sex life.” Fallon mumbled around a spoonful of noodles.

“I never should have told you that.” Taking another sip of beer, I rolled my eyes. “I do, however, remember you two hating each other’s guts.”

Fallon smiled wickedly, waving her fork in my face. “And for good reason. He hurt my bestie more than once. That was unacceptable.”

“But her? You are a million times prettier than she is. Hell, you’re all around a better person.” Fallon shook her head in disgust.

“I don’t know Fal. I really don’t. She could be a nice person.”

“We both know it wasn’t her personality that sealed the deal. Besides, McGarrett here never liked him, did you?” Reaching over, Fallon scratching her black and white Siberian Husky behind the ears before giving him a piece of chicken.

“Fal, you can’t feed him that!” I laughed as the dog moved closer to Fallon’s spot on the floor of our living room, happily wagging his tail.

“What?” She shrugged. “It didn’t have sauce on it. He’ll be fine.”

“This is why I’m your favorite, and not mean auntie Kat.” She whispered as the dog licked her face.

“You’re awful.”

“You won’t think that when we go to this party tonight.”

“Where is the party again?” I asked, clearing the table.

“I don’t know. Rebecca sent me the details during class today. Apparently, she knows one guy that lives in the house.”

“Of course, she does.” Becca Smith knew anyone and everyone in Seattle. She was the resident school gossip and made knowing other people’s business a priority.

“Just promise me it won’t be like the last off campus party we went too.”

“Never again.” Fallon vowed.

That night had resulted in one of us missing a shoe, an entire jar of peanut butter and walking 15 miles home in the dark. All orchestrated by Fallon’s on-again, off-again boyfriend Liam. Now that we were juniors, Fallon had declared she was getting “her shit together”. Making sure the pair was ‘off’ for the foreseeable future. Which really meant that Liam wanted to take their relationship to the next level, and Fallon did not.

We had moved into this apartment downtown shortly after the start of the school year. The living room held an oversized velvet green sofa we thrifted from a local market, a wooden coffee table and big screen tv. Bookcases lined both sides of a large picture window on the far wall. With candles and fresh flowers sitting on both end tables next to the sofa. The modern kitchen held the newest appliances, with a small four seat table off to the side. Our bedrooms were separated by a long hallway and a single bathroom.