Page 8 of Don't Puck Him

But a few minutes later, the girls are nice enough to help me find my dorm room.They might not be as bad as I thought,I decide.

“We’re headed to a party later, you want to come?” says Kayla.

My roommate hasn’t reported yet, and I don’t want to be alone, so I agree.

Everyone at the house party knows each other. Nobody is standing by themselves like a loser. The girls I arrive with are soon swallowed by greetings and hugs, and I’m left standing alone. All the guys look preppy, and the girls are definitely not dressed like me in my not-quite-right jeans and long sleeve thermal.

I find myself an empty space along the wall and lean on it. A guy comes to stand next to me. I turn to him and smile, but he rolls his eyes and slumps away.

I’m left feeling jittery. I also get this eerie feeling that someone’s watching me, but I can’t figure out who.

Amy comes back giddy and clearly high.

She hands me a beer and whispers loudly into my ears. “Stay away from the hockey team. They’re all bad news. I’ve already seen one of them here, Hunter.” She slips back into the crowd.

I’m alone again and bend down to peel off the label from my bottle between sips. So Hunter isn’t only friends with Cash but also teammates? I can’t trust him as far as I can throw a puck.

That feeling of being watched returns. I look up straight into his intense face staring unabashedly at me.

Why is he eyeing me?

My legs buckle. I look around for somewhere to sit and dip into an armchair.

Maybe he’s different from Cash.

Is he a potential ally or yet another adversary? I’m about to find out, because he gets up and makes his way over to me.

4

HUNTER

Ilean against the divider between the front door and the living room.

And I watch Wren.

No. I stare at Wren.

Luckily for me, she’s too busy feeling out of her depth at this party. Head down, slowly ripping the beer label off the amber bottle. Shuffling her feet, which she’s trying desperately to hide, one over the other.

This chick will not last a semester like this. Poor thing.

I smile. Not because I’m happy about her pain, but because I know it’ll take me and my way with women like her to ease that pain. Wren just doesn’t know it yet.

I take a step back and stand behind the divider. I want an unobstructed view of Wren but not have her notice me soaking up her discomfort, her beauty, her innocence. That awareness can come later. I know it will. For now, I need time.

A diamond cutter doesn’t approach an uncut gem and start hacking away without carefully examining the bauble for its intrinsic weaknesses. Where it will break first and best to reveal its inner beauty.

No. It’s not time yet. Oh, and another cold one for me.

I rest from my lurking long enough to grab another beer from the host’s fridge.

“Hey, Hunter, how’s it hangin’?” asks a guy from my Psych 101 class last semester.

“Cool, man, cool.”

“Hunter! You made it!” A girl from my philosophy class freshman year slaps me on the shoulder.

“Yeah, babe. You knew I wouldn’t miss it.”

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