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“Hi,” I say, turning beet red.
I can feel the heat spreading over my cheeks.
I wipe my hands off to give him a handshake or something, I don’t know. Instead, like the gentleman he is, Nick pulls me up and into an awkward hug kissing me on the cheek.
Did I step into an alternate reality?
Why does he remember me?
I’m invisible, remember? I do.
Layla tries looking away. I never told her about my one night with Nick Miller. I only told my friend, Bridget, who didn’t even believe me.
Layla’s cleaning off another mat, but I see her glancing sideways at us, trying to appear like she’s not listening and watching the entire exchange.
“How was your summer?” He asks as if we’re good friends.
“Oh, it was good.” I shrug awkwardly. “Kinda boring really. Yours?”
Why am I so awkward?
And nervous. My palms are sweaty and I feel jittery. I am visibly shaking.
Why is he talking to me? Nick Miller just asked how my summer was! I feel like a giddy teenager trying to hide my giggles while swooning. I need to hold it together. I don’t want to embarrass myself like last time. I can act all calm. No big deal. It’s just the newest most promising hockey star in the country that knows my name. Wait, he called meStranger.
I’m freaking out for no reason. He probably doesn’t remember my name at all.
“It was alright, got some golfing and roller hockey in, but mostly relaxing.” He keeps talking, but I’m not really paying attention.
Nick looks so good. Too good. As always, only this time he has a nice tan with his smoldering good looks.
I need to stop checking him out before I start drooling. I’m staring for way too long at the way his shirt clings to his sweating chest.
Stop thinking of him naked.
I really have to stop. My whole body is starting to shake just from talking to him.
“I have to run to take a shower then head back to the rink for a meeting, but I’ll catch you later.” He leans in to kiss my cheek again. “Bye, Lenny.” He whispers against my ear and a flood of memories comes rushing in.
The way he made out with me against my door and gave me a hug before kissing my cheek and whispering those same words as he left me standing there relishing in the moment that Nick Miller kissed me, had sex with me, kissed me again, and knows my name.
Though a nickname. It’s still my name.
And he remembers it.
Me! He remembers me.
“What was that?” Layla asks after he is out of earshot. “I could see the sparks between you two!”
“Nothing! It was nothing. We hung out once. That’s it. Nothing more. Just shared a plate of fries at the diner last semester after a late night.” My cheeks are on fire as I awkwardly babble and wave my hand through the air.
I need something to fan myself off, anything to stop the combustion happening. But the only fire I’m feeling is from complete embarrassment, there are no magical sparks.
“Uh huh. Sure. I completely believe you.” Layla eyes me, knowing full well I’m lying.
We work in silence the rest of the day. At least I do. Layla keeps nudging me to ask about Nick, but I do everything to avoid her. I even check all the lockers in the women’s locker room for any items left behind.
Complete avoidance is not going to work when we have to walk back together. It’s a longer walk than last semester. We pass by our old dorms and sigh over the memories, but keep walking to sorority row.
