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“We’re almost at St. Cloud. Coach Young has decided to hold the post-game debrief tomorrow morning before practice, so be there fifteen minutes early.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“For now, just head straight home and get some rest.”
That is the happiest yes, ma’am I’ve shouted back in a while.
The girls start making plans about going to O’Malley’s, but after my blunder today, I’m feeling really obedient, and I head to my dorm.
Music drifts out of the building as I approach. Energy drains from my body with every step. Perhaps being alone to stew in my misery isn’t the best idea. I could change out of my letterman jacket and slacks into something cuter and hit the bar with the others.
As I climb up the stairs to the third floor, I have to pause for two people blocking the way. They’re making out with all their might and don’t notice me right away. One of them finally spots me and pulls her partner closer, away from my path.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry,” I say with a sigh. “I’m just jealous.”
I leave their laughter behind as I keep climbing up. That’s really what I wish I was doing. Making out with Max in some dimly lit corner. I wonder if he’s at O’Malley’s. And if I could pull off sneaking him out without anyone noticing.
I push open my bedroom door with a shoulder. Shock of all shocks, my roommate sits on her bed typing on her laptop. She lifts her eyes to me for a fraction of a second and then keeps tapping at her keyboard.
First, I drop my bag at the foot of my bed. Then I drop myself onto my bed, face down.
“Did you lose?”
I almost have a heart attack at the sound of her voice. Rolling my head, I make sure she can see the raw shock in my face.
“You know, I wasn’t sure if I’d hallucinated your voice the one time Max was here, or if you could really speak.”
She shrugs infinitesimally. “I can. I just choose not to.”
“Fair.” I huff to get my hair away from my face. It doesn’t work, so I leave it there. “What changed now?”
A moment passes that almost convinces me she won’t speak again. But then she does. “Your entrance was very dramatic, and I’m bored.”
“Why aren’t you out partying like usual?”
Just because she’s a goth through and through doesn’t mean she lacks a social life. In fact, that’s one of the reasons we don’t talk much. I’m always with the team, and she’s always with her friends. I saw them just once at O’Malley’s, a whole bunch of people in all black. They walked in, saw the scene, and walked right out. Never saw them again. No idea what their usual haunts are.
“I broke up with my boyfriend,” she says in a deadpan that betrays zero feelings.
“Huh, so the heartbreak makes you talk?” I think that’s a glare. Maybe I should stop teasing. “And no, we won.”
The murderous intent she radiates eases off. “Then what’s your damage?”
“Boy problems too.”
I roll onto my back and squint at the light from the lamp. The sigh I release is so big it drains my chest.
“I wouldn’t have thought a girl like you would have boy problems.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
She motions at me. “You’re hot.”
“Thanks. So are you.” Since she scrunches up her face in denial, I add, “No, seriously. In a sort of I will punch your throat while The Cure plays in the background type of way.”
Her eyebrows fly. “You know The Cure?”
