Page 15 of Breaking the Ice

“Um, the news isn’t public yet, but I thought maybe your dad told you.”

She shakes her head. “We don’t really talk.”

“Okay. Do you promise you’ll keep it to yourself?” I probably shouldn’t have brought it up, but I wanted to keep her talking, keep her here in front of me. Sports talk could help cool my raging hormones. Oh yeah, that and the reminder that her dad is my hockey coach. She’s so far off limits, she might as well be playing for one of our rival teams. Doesn’t dim the appeal, though.

Isabella rolls her eyes. “I know, like, three people on campus, and none of them would care. So yeah, I won’t tell anyone.”

I lean forward, imparting a secret. “There’s been a big hazing scandal.”

“Oh, shit,” Isabella breathes. “What happened?”

“I’m not exactly sure, but The Advocate is breaking the story in the paper tomorrow. I guess there was a bunch of forced drinking and some extreme conditions—locked room challenges, food deprivation, gross stuff like that.” I take a swig of my Mountain Dew, then scratch my leg under the table. “The hockey team was warned to be on our best behavior because all the athletic programs will come under fire.”

“Oh, that sucks.” Her brown eyes radiate compassion, despite not liking sports. She reaches out and brushes her fingers over my arm, then withdraws them like she was burned. She tucks her hands in her lap. “I’m sorry for the people who were hurt, and that your team will be under extra scrutiny.”

“We’ll be okay. No hazing or anything happening under your dad’s watch. But he might be extra stressed.” I rub a hand over my throat, which feels itchy, both on the inside and outside. Weird. I cough a few times to clear it.

“Thanks for telling me. I appreciate the warning. I should probably go, though. It’s getting late.” My heart sinks as she stands and starts gathering her things, then stops and stares, piercing. “Evan, is it possible that you have allergies?”

“Nah.” I wave away her concerns, then notice that my fingers are like fat sausages. Whoa, that’s not normal. I hold them up in front of my face, examining things. “I think I’d know if I was allergic to something, right? Plus, I eat here all the time.”

She brushes her palm over my cheek like a caress, and it’s all I can do to not lean into it. “Is your tongue swollen? Because I think your face is.”

“My face is beautiful.”

Isabella laughs. “Glad to know it hasn’t affected your cognitive function. Are you itchy?”

When she asks, it feels like a floodgate of poison ivy rolls through my body, and every inch tingles with a desire to be scratched. “It hadn’t registered until you said it, but yeah, a little. I thought my skin was just dry.”

Grabbing my forearm, she inspects it. “I think you have hives. You’re having a reaction to something. We have to get you to a doctor.”

Chapter

Seven

ISABELLA

Isabella: I’m at the hospital with Evan.

Dad: What? Why?

Isabella: The student clinic was closed.

Dad: Is he okay? What’s going on? Do you need help?

Isabella: He’s allergic to tree nuts.

Dad: I’m on my way.

Isabella: You really don’t need to do that. I was just giving you a heads-up.

“How could I be allergic to something I’ve eaten before?” Evan wails, his cheeks flushed in agitation. At least, I think it’s agitation and not the hives. They gave him an antihistamine so his symptoms should be subsiding. “I love those burritos! I can’t give them up.”

“Hey.” I put a calming hand on his shoulder. I hover next to him while he sits on a little cot in the ER exam room. “We’ll figure it out. I called the restaurant, and they recently changed the recipe for the burrito sauce. It now contains almonds.”

“But I eat almonds all the time!”

I hold up my phone, showing him my Google screen. “Apparently you can develop allergies later in life.”