18. JT
CHAPTER 18
JT
“Okay, so I’ll finish up the citations and make sure the formatting’s right. And you can finish the slide notes. Sound good?”
I lean back against the flattened cushions of this lumpy, second-hand couch. “Yeah, that works for me. I’ve got training in the morning and practice after class, but I’ve got some time in the middle of the day tomorrow, so we’ll be good to go for class on Friday.”
“Yep. We’ll ace the presentation and then you guys will bring us a win to start the season off right. No pressure, of course,” he says with a laugh.
I power down my laptop and nod at my assigned partner. Theo’s a good guy and a hard worker, so I have no complaints. Sociology might just be the academic highlight of my week. I may not be the most extroverted guy, but I’m a born observer, and Soc takes people watching to a whole new level. Theo might be even less of a joiner than I am, but his job at the coffee shop forces him to be social and I know he’s seen some weird shit from the patrons of Drip. Hell, I bet half his best work stories come courtesy of my teammates .
I’m zipping my bag and getting ready to head back to the hockey house when Randall, Theo’s roommate, walks in
“You guys done studying yet?” he asks, setting a case of beer on the coffee table before tapping out a message on his phone. “I’m having some friends over. You should hang out with us. It’s nothing big, just a low-key thing.”
I might only be a sophomore, but I see that statement for the lie it is.
Theo’s got the same idea because he grabs his books and shakes his head. “Nah, I need to finish this, and?—”
“No, you don’t,” Randall says, taking the stack off Theo’s hands and strolling into the kitchen. He opens a cupboard above the fridge and stores Theo’s textbook, notepad, and laptop inside like they’re cereal boxes.
“The fuck?” Theo complains, rolling his eyes and following his roommate into the kitchen.
Randall—I’m not sure if that’s his first name or his last name— stands guard in front of the cabinets, and though the guys are equally matched in height, Theo’s outweighed by at least fifty pounds. Making lattes does not make muscles, apparently.
“Trust me, dude. You will thank me if you stick around. I got the beer and I’ll cover the pizza that’ll be here in twenty. Just trust me.”
Theo sighs, relenting, and it’s clear I’m not the only one whose friends force me to socialize.
“Fine,” he agrees. “You want to stay, Norris? Free beer and food…”
I’m hungry, but I’m not in the mood for a party, no matter how “low-key” Randall claims it’ll be. I’m about to beg off and head out when there’s a knock at the door. Randall shoves Theo toward it and when he opens it, a tiny brunette damn near vaults through it. She practically knocks him over, but Theo is unfazed.
And it’s all thanks to bundle of energy who’s pounding on his chest. “Theo! Randall texted and said you’re having a party! Can you make espresso martinis? Or Irish car bombs? What do they teach you in barista training?”
Jesus. This girl’s got as much energy as Mickey.
“I’m a coffee clerk, Viv. Not a bartender” Theo says, laughing with a shake of his head.
Viv…something about this girl’s name is familiar, but I’m probably overthinking it. I must’ve seen her or heard about her at the coffee shop. Randall claps me on the back and offers me a beer. I shake my head. “Thanks, man, but I should get going.”
“Dude. It’s ten o’clock,” he says, shaking his head right back at me, and placing the cold beer in my open palm.
“Yeah, but it’s also Wednesday night,” I answer.
Before he can call me Grandpa or roll his eyes at me, there’s a knock at the door. Randall goes to answer it, but there’s no pizza delivery on the other side. Instead, there are half a dozen girls or so, most of them slightly taller versions of the pint-sized woman occupying Theo’s attention, but I don’t pay any attention to them. I can’t take my eyes off the last girl in the group.
I have no clue what the hell Maggie’s doing here, but I do know one thing: suddenly, I’m no longer in a hurry to get home.
It’s been a solid half hour since Maggie walked in. And almost that long since she noticed my presence.
As for me, I’m back on Theo’s lumpy couch, still holding an unopened beer, and conducting my own social experiment.
This one isn’t going to make it into the slideshow, though.
Maggie hasn’t acknowledged me. She hasn’t said hi, or even waved in my direction .
She also hasn’t taken her eyes off me for more than five seconds.
I’m waiting for her to crack, to give in to her attraction or at least say hello.
I have a feeling I’ll be waiting a long damn time. But then, in a move I wouldn’t have anticipated, Randall comes in clutch. He doesn’t mean to, of course. He’s just making conversation with a beautiful woman at his “low-key” party. But after two minutes of listening to Randall yap about Christ knows what, Maggie looks like she’s about to fall asleep. She fakes a yawn and checks her watch before hooking her thumb over her shoulder and pointing at the door. Randall doesn’t get the hint. Instead, he reaches for his keys and practically pants like he’s a dog whose owner just said the work w-a-l-k.
I watch Maggie shake her head and wave him off before turning her eyes on me. She blinks rapidly, and I can tell it makes her crazy that she got caught looking.
Randall dangles his keys and I set my untouched beer can on the coffee table.
My social experiment is officially over.
“Thanks, man,” I say, walking up behind him and clapping him on the back just like he did to me earlier. “I’m gonna head back to campus. Have a good one.” I start to walk away and when I look back to see if Maggie’s pretty blue eyes are trailing me, she almost slams into me.
“Hey, hi. You’re walking back to campus? Great. Want some company?” Her words come out in a rush, and she beats me to the door. As we step into the hallway, she starts texting furiously on her phone and I still her wrist to stop her.
“Hold up. Was Randall being a dick or something? Because you’re in a hell of a hurry to leave.”
“Oh, god, no,” she assures me. “He’s fine. Boring and kinda weird, but fine. He was offering me a ride because he’s not drinking tonight, which is cool, whatever. But then he started going into graphic detail about how much he drank last Saturday and how much he…”
She’s turning that now-familiar shade of grayish-green, and I get the idea. There was a guy on my high school team who was a sympathetic puker, and even the mention of someone yakking made him queasy. I guess Maggie’s the same way. “Got it,” I say walking along with her down the corridor. Theo’s apartment is at the back of the building, so it takes a minute or two until the elevator is in sight. I turn to Maggie, glad to see a pinkish color slowly returning to her cheeks. “Steps?” I ask, just to be sure.
“Yes, please,” she answers. “Viv’s place is just two floors down,” she tells me as we descend the stairs.
“You’re not heading back to campus?”
She shakes her head. “Not tonight. My living situation is…complicated. I’m staying with my aunt and uncle this year. They’re great, but it’s nice to live without a curfew every once in a while, you know?”
I don’t know. I’m pretty sure I’ve never had an actual curfew except for the ones imposed by Coach. The various aunts, uncles, and cousins I stayed with weren’t really into rules, not even those laid down by the actual law. But I’m not telling Maggie any of that. No need to scare her off, especially since our friendship is tentative, at best.
Before long, we make it to the first floor. But instead of heading down the hall toward the apartments, she pushes on the exterior doors and steps out into the cool night air, and I follow.
“Uh, didn’t you say Viv lives on the first floor?” I ask, joining her as she power-walks across the parking lot.
“Yep,” she answers, not slowing down at all.
“And you also said you’re not heading back to campus tonight?” I ask, falling into step next to her.
“Yep,” she agrees once again.
“So, where are we going? ”
“ We aren’t going anywhere,” Maggie clarifies when we stop for the light at the end of the street. “ I’m going to the mini mart at the end of the next block. I’m staying at Viv’s tonight and watching my favorite movie and its sequel, back-to back. Viv’s out of the good snacks, which means I need to stock up.”
The Walk sign flashes overhead, so we head across the street. “Really,” she insists, “you don’t have to come along and make a field trip out of it. I’m fine on my own.”
“Ouch. I thought we were friends, Maggie,” I say as the lights of the convenience store come into view.
She rolls her eyes in response. “Friends, huh? That’s why you’re following me?”
“I’m joining you,” I say. “That’s what friends do.”
She eyes me skeptically. “So, if your buddy decided to go on an impromptu snack run, you’d tag along?”
I think of Mickey immediately and nod. “No question.”
Maggie sighs. “So, we’re friends,” she repeats, and I can’t figure out if she’s happy or pissed off.
One thing about me is that I don’t play games. Or more accurately, I only play one, and that’s hockey. I don’t tiptoe around shit, or use politeness as a shield. I might be a goalie, but I’m also a straight shooter.
“No bullshit?” I ask, giving her an out if she wants it.
“Never any bullshit,” she answers a little too quickly, and if I had to guess, Maggie’s been played too many times. Maybe that’s why her walls are as high as skyscrapers.
“I’m walking you to a convenience store because I’m not an asshole and it’s statistically safer to walk in pairs,” I say, stating the truth. “But also because I like being with you. I like talking to you and making you smile. Pissing you off is kinda fun, too, honestly.”
She smiles and bites her lip and damn it if my cock doesn’t notice. “I like being with you, too,” she admits before sobering. “ You know this isn’t going anywhere, right? I told you I don’t date.”
“Yeah, I remember,” I assure her. I also remember her telling Viv my cock was basically magic, but I’ll leave that detail out.
“So…just friends, nothing more, right?” she confirms as I hold the door to the mini mart open for her.
Maggie walks in and heads straight for the candy aisle, and I’m right behind her. “Oh, I sure as hell want more,” I say, watching her browse the options like she’s choosing the best weapon for a battle. She’s scanning the shelves, but clearly coming up empty. I get the feeling. It’s how I’ve felt at every party since I met her—like I’m searching in the right place, but still can’t find what I really want. “I’m ready for more whenever you are, Maggie. But I’m also cool being your friend. And your shopping buddy,” I say, holding out a plastic basket.
“Why though?” she asks, tossing in a bag of gummy worms.
I don’t play coy because it’s not my style. “Why? Because that night at Kappa was the best night of my life and I can’t get you off my fucking mind.”
She blushes and plucks another sugary item off the shelf. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”
I reach past her to an endcap and snag a bag of salt and vinegar potato chips. “Never said it to any girl,” I tell her honestly. She levels me with a look of disbelief, but I don’t flinch.
“I’m dead serious,” I say, following her to the coolers.
Maggie opens the door and scans the contents before selecting a bottle of ginger ale. “It was the best sex of my life, I’ll give you that,” she says matter-of-factly. “But the best night of my life? Not even top five. There was minimal cuddling, and there were no snacks. To make the top ten nights of my life you have to at least provide chocolate. ”
I’d laugh, but the woman’s not joking. “Noted,” I say, heading back to where we started and riffling through the display until I find what I’m looking for: there, hidden among the dark chocolate salted caramel bars is a lone treasure. A forgotten gem. And possibly the key to this woman’s heart. Picking up the mislaid candy bar, I hold it up in triumph. “Chocolate secured,” I say, brandishing the dark chocolate peanut butter bar I know she was hoping to find earlier.
Maggie stands before me, dressed in slouchy sweats and a hoodie that would probably fit me, looks stunned. “Wow. Unless you can see the future and you hid that a couple hours ago just to impress me with your skills, you have my utmost appreciation. But that’s all. Because this,” she says, gesturing between us, “is not happening again.”
I lean against the endcap and study the woman who’s starred in every dream I’ve had for the past six weeks or so. “You said it was the best sex of your life. So…unless you were a virgin…”
She laughs openly and it’s the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard. “Nope. You weren’t my first rodeo, but you were the best, no question. That thing you do with your hips? Jesus. You should give tutorials on YouTube. I could be passive-aggressive and send the link to my ex.”
I can’t help the smug smile that crosses my lips. “You like the hip thing, huh?”
“Yes,” she says, blushing under the harsh lights of the convenience store.
“But you don’t want a repeat?” I ask, grabbing one of the pre-packaged snack boxes on display. The hard-boiled egg, cheese, and almonds are a sad substitute for dinner, but they’ll have to do.
“Nope,” she says, turning her head and giving all of her attention to a rack of gum.
“Make it make sense,” I say.
“You think our night together was magical, right?” she asks, turning her blue-eyed gaze on me. I school my features. Now is not the time to drool like a simp.
But it’s always the time for honesty. “I damn near shit a unicorn the next day, so yes.”
“Ew,” she replies, wrinkling her nose.
I crack a smile at her prissiness. “C’mon, Maggie. It was fucking legendary. Who wouldn’t want to go there again?”
Without missing a beat, she raises her hand like we’re in school. “You call it magical. I call it a one-off.”
I can’t hide my surprise. “A one-off? Are you serious?”
“Dead serious,” she answers, mimicking my earlier sentiment.
We run our purchases through the self-checkout, and she balks when I’m quicker on the draw with my card than she is with hers. I shrug unapologetically as we exit the store. “You can cover the next date,” I tease, fully expecting the eye rolling and laughing when it comes. We make it back to the Poplar Lane Apartments a few minutes later, and I’m surprised Viv’s not back yet. I mean, I don’t know the girl, or her habits, but I’m fully expecting to get the boot so they can bond and shit.
Maggie just laughs when I tell her this. “Oh, no. I won’t see Viv until the morning. She’ll either crash at the guys’ place or at Jake’s if she ends up meeting up with him later.”
So, we’re alone for the forseeable future? It’s delicious torture. “What’s the movie you’re subjecting me to?” I ask.
Maggie looks me up and down. She must like what she sees because instead of kicking my ass out, she reaches for a tray on a high shelf. She’s on her tiptoes, but it’s still a good four or five inches out of reach. Leaning forward, I pull it down and place it on the battered countertop. Maggie smiles her thanks and begins loading up the tray with enough sugar to satisfy a bunch of first graders. I add my snacks and carry the overflowing tray to what passes for a living room. I’m not judging, I swear. While Viv’s place definitely has less square footage per capita than the hockey house, it’s not a biohazard.
Maggie makes herself comfy on the couch and cuddles up in a bright pink blanket with cacti all over it. I’ve hit an all-time low: I’m jealous of fleece. Maybe that’s what prompts me to utter an embarrassing question. “So, you really don’t want round two, huh?”
She nibbles on her full bottom lip. “Like I said, it would ruin my memory of round one. Realistically, there’s no way it was as good as I remember it.”
I whistle, picking up the remote and handing it to her. “Wow. Must be some memory. Sounds like mine, which is why I think it should be revisited. You know, for science.”
She laughs. “Really? Interested in medical research, are you?”
I shrug. “If it’ll get me back in your naked graces, then yes.”
“It’s good graces,” Maggie says, correcting me.
“Yeah,” I reply. “Good and naked.”