2. OLIVIA

CHAPTER 2

OLIVIA

Trent

Sorry, babe

We just really gotta finish this group assignment tonight

Me

No, I totally get it

Guess I'll just study in my room

Brunch tomorrow tho?

B ut my boyfriend leaves me on read, probably distracted by what his group mates are doing, and I flop back on my bed. With the motion, a strand of hair dips into my mouth and I splutter until it's out.

This is what my life has reduced to. A lonely Saturday night. I should follow in his example and pour my entire attention on all the material I have to cover for my midterms, which was the plan all along, but it'd have been nicer if Trent and I could've studied side by side at the library. Maybe get pizza from Romano's afterward. And just because the two of us are bookworms it doesn't mean we can't occasionally pause from studying to make out for a bit. Or at least that's how we used to be before. Lately, he's a lot more responsible than me.

Keys jiggle in the front door and it opens with a swoosh I can hear from my room. Right after, a voice calls, "Olivia not-the-singer Rodriguez, we're home!"

I roll my eyes, which I'm sure my roommates know I'm doing even though they can't see through the walls.

"Har har."

They burst through my door to catch me splayed on my bed with my limbs out in the shape of a star. Too slow I try to roll away but Dee Meyer's one-hundred-fifty pounds still crash over me.

"Oof!"

"We won!" She screeches in my ear. "You should've seen us. We were freaking electric out there tonight."

Grunting, I try to push her away from me. "No, thanks. I ha?—"

"Hate hockey, yes," my other roommate says, sitting delicately on a corner of my bed. "But seriously, you should've un-hated it for tonight. If only to support your besties."

I lift my eyebrows at her. "Mina, you're not on the team. You don't even know how to skate."

She folds her arms. "But I'm their biggest fan."

"This is true." Dee finally rolls away from me and props her head up with her arm. "Her screams were the loudest from the stands. I'd have loved to hear you cheering too."

With a deadpanned voice, I say, "I don't scream." Not even for my siblings or for…

Nope. Not gonna think about him at all.

"Fine, but it'd have been nice to see your face supporting me from the stands."

"This face?" I motion at it, knowing it's set in a bored grimace .

It makes Dee laugh. "You're such a little shit."

"There are other ways you can show Dee how much you appreciate her accomplishments, though." When Mina Lee smirks, you know trouble's afoot. Dee and I exchange a glance that clearly means uh oh . "Like for example, crashing a party with her. And me."

"No, I have to study," I chime right away.

But Dee's confused. "Wait, what do you mean crash? We don't have to crash our own victory party, you know?"

Mina leans forward, holding her weight on her arms as her hands dig into the mattress. "That's because we're not going to O'Malley's like the team was saying. There's a better place that would boost the Strikes' morale even more, and as their alternate captain, you, Destiny Meyer, will help me steer them on the right path."

"Oh, yeah?" Dee chuckles. "And where's that?"

My eyebrows pinch but I'm not going to get into this. "Can you please take your mastermind self out of my room so I can get back to work?"

Mina's sharp eyes glint with a victory she hasn't yet attained, and she shares, "I just saw on Liam Roberts' Instagram that there's a party at the Bolt House tonight."

"Didn't they lose their game?" Dee asks, looking at me and I shrug like I didn't check the results a few minutes ago. It's not that I care about the team or the sport, but I haven't broken the old habit.

"They did, indeed. And you know who won? The Strikes. So what celebration would be sweeter than rubbing our victory in their miserable faces?" Mina finishes her speech off with a gotcha air that fools no one.

I blow a raspberry. "Admit it, you just wanna see if you can hook up with any of the Bolts."

"It's a scientific fact that people could do with a dopamine boost when they're sad. And you know what releases dopamine?" She folds her arms, her lips curving in that sneaky way of hers again. "The horizontal tango."

I level her with a look. "I thought this was all about celebrating the Strikes moving on to the final four?"

"Oh, please." Mina throws her hands in the air. "I was a good girl in coming to watch Dee's game instead of the Bolts. Besides, you're happily partnered up, don't I deserver a bone?"

"A bone or to bone?" Dee guffaws at her own joke.

"Both!"

At this even I laugh. Mistake, because Mina immediately focuses on me. "Does this mean you're in?"

"How in the hell does laughing at a raunchy joke mean I agree to this?"

"Well, do you have better plans?" she fires right back.

I stay silent for a brief moment that tells too much. Clearing my throat, I say, "Yes, I have a ton to study for my midterms."

"Really? On a Saturday night? Shouldn't you at least be boning your boyfriend?"

Heat explodes in my face. I'm not super comfortable with screaming into the four winds about what Trent and I do or don't do in private. "I, um—anyway, he already had plans."

The two of them do a double take at me. Then exchange a glance like I'm unable to discern that they're dissing Trent in their minds.

"It's not like that." I huff and push up to sit on the edge of my bed. "He's working on a group assignment."

"Right." Dee turns to Mina. "What was the excuse last time?"

Mina taps her chin. "Strep throat, I think."

I get up from my bed and slash a glance over my shoulder. "What? It's spreading like wildfire on campus."

"Sure, but when was the last time you two went on a date?" Dee's eyebrows rise. "Or put plainly, why didn't you get strep throat from him?"

"We go on dates," I say, boredom dripping from my voice as I pick my hair up in a high ponytail. "We have lunch when we can, and we do coursework at the library together, and?—"

Mina pins me with a wide-eyed stare. "But when was the last time you two had?—"

"Anyway, shoo." I wave my hands toward the door. "Go to your party, whichever it'll be."

"No, I am duty-bound to not leave you alone and miserable, unlike that sorry excuse for a boyfriend of yours."

I fold my arms tight and glare at her. "Just because we're not glued to each other all the time, doesn't mean he's a bad boyfriend."

"You're absolutely right," Mina says with a contrite expression that I don't believe for a second because she never backs down. Sure enough, she adds, "You're totally happy with your boyfriend. So don't you want your bestie to find a boyfriend of her own to be totally happy with?"

Damn it, she's good. Even though I'm still miffed about her swipes at Trent, she has such a masterful use of sarcasm that I can't stop my lips from twitching. This is why we became friends in the first place.

Dee nudges Mina with her elbow. "I think she's starting to crack. Keep going."

But before Mina can utter another smartass word from her mouth, I groan. "Guys, please. You know how much I hate anything related to hockey, especially the Bolts. The literal last thing I want to do is be surrounded by them."

"You won't be doing it for them, but for me."

"And for me," Dee says with a grin. "Because I'm so texting the Strikes to rally the troops and go make a mess."

"Pretty please ?" Mina elongates the word through a smile the shows off her perfect pearly whites .

"But…" I point at my textbooks strewn on my desk, but they're not even open already.

Maybe if I tell them the real reason why I don't want to go to this party, they'll let me off the hook. They know I had a best friend before them that was a guy, and that we had a big fallout after he acted like a grade-A jerk during our freshman year at St. Cloud.

What they don't know is that he's the star defenseman of the Thunder Bolts, one Brooklyn Tatum.

If I told them, I'm sure they'd let me off the hook. I could spend the rest of the night here in my room, chugging away at the materials that will take me closer to my dream masters in nutrition. Or I could even whip up another nice little recipe to post on my Instagram tonight. Something quick and easy for everyone else who is also studying for midterms.

But I know Dee and Mina would also make a huge deal out of it. They'd forgo celebrating the Strikes' win altogether to waging World War III on Brooklyn Tatum. And no matter how much he deserves it, I just don't want to deal with drama. It's why I've been avoiding him for a year.

So what do I do? Do I set my friends off on him so I can stay home tonight? Or do I put up with the possibility of seeing him tonight?

The latter will only ruin my night. The former will ruin my friends' night and I can't do that to them.

Defeated, I mutter. "Ugh, shit."

"Yes!" Mina jumps to her feet. "We should?—"

"No." I cut her off. "I know exactly what you're going to say and no. I'm not changing into a barely-there dress. This is how you're dragging my ass to this awful party." I motion at my black leggings and the blue St. Cloud sweatshirt I swiped from Trent's closet.

"Fine, you're not the one who's looking for a man, anyway." Mina twirls around and finally heads to her room .

Dee's still in mine, her fingers furiously texting while her grin seems to grow bigger with every second. "And done. We have officially relocated the venue of tonight's victory party to one Bolt House. I'm gonna go get ready."

I scrunch up my face. "But I thought you're also not looking for anything at the Bolt House." Dee is allegedly in a committed relationship with hockey—allegedly because even though she doesn't waste much of her time trawling through bars or parties, she does occasionally find a hookup here or there.

Dee tosses her microbraids over her shoulder. "Yes, but I also enjoy looking like a damn snack. So if you'll excuse me."

I plop on my desk chair after she also leaves and put my face in my hands. Tonight isn't going according to any plan, huh? But it's fine—I'm fine. Even if I see him , I'll pretend like he's just a fly in the wall like I've been doing for a year.

And maybe I'll snap a couple of pictures for Trent. He's always complaining that I'm not social enough so this should prove him wrong. I make a quick Instagram post saying I'm going to this party so he can see it, but at the last second I decide to delete it and just surprise him later.

In the end, I get a bit of studying in while my friends doll up for the party. As we file into the back of an Uber together, I'm slightly less annoyed by this plan. In fact, I join in singing along to a song by Olivia Rodrigo, even though I hate it when people make fun of me because we have a similar name.

By the time we get to the Bolt House, I'm not even nervous. A year ago, a party at this place basically ruined my life. I won't let that memory get in the way of my chaotic friends' night out.