Was there nobody else in the world who was confused about life?
“How does your D-squad look this year?” Graham asked Trevi.
“Is this on the record?”
“No, asshole,” Graham said with a chuckle. “Just some friendly conversation.”
Trevi grinned. “They’re young but scrappy. I like these freshmen. I really do.”
We all turned to glance over at O’Hane and the other frosh, who had gathered near the beer table. “They have good foot speed,” I remarked. “I especially liked that kid Hopper at practice today.”
“Wait,” came a new voice. “Who does Bella like? I need this intel for the season-opening bets.” Big-D, a senior defenseman, lumbered up to our circle and put his hands on his hips. “There’s a pool going on which freshman Bella goes home with first.”
Trevi’s girlfriend tittered, then slapped a palm over her mouth.
Lovely.
Again, I kept my bravado, even though his comment grated on me. It was true that I’d had a lot of sex with hockey players. (One at a time, usually.) But the players weren’t saints, either. And nobody was starting a betting pool about any of them.
Double standard, much?
I wasn’t the only one who didn’t like Big-D or his comments. Beside me, I sensed a spike in Graham’s blood pressure. “You ass,” he hissed. “Don’t start that shit or I’ll—”
“No you won’t.” I planted a hand on Graham’s chest. “Let it go, man. Everybody knows that Big-D only talks smack about me because I won’t take him home again. Once was plenty.”
Big-D’s mouth hardened, but I wasn’t afraid of him. I let go of Graham and gave Big-D an evil grin. “You should know better than to offend the team manager. You might get the shittiest hotel rooms on every road trip from now until April. Your skate blades might not get sharpened, and your meal vouchers could get lost.”
“I was just teasing, Bella.” He gave me a self-conscious smile. “You wouldn’t do that.”
“Wouldn’t I?” Try me.
“Tough crowd here for a Saturday.” Big-D shook his enormous head, as if we were all just a little too touchy. Then he turned and ambled toward the house.
“I hate that fucking guy,” Graham said after Big-D had gone.
“He’s just really insecure,” I said. It was true, too. Big-D wasn’t a pretty boy like Graham, or witty, like Trevi. And he didn’t have Orsen’s natural warmth. He was harder to love, and he knew it. As a result, he lashed out, making himself into an even bigger ass.
Did I mention that I was a psych major?
The truth was that people were always going to talk smack about me because I didn’t hide the fact that I’d had more than a few sexual partners. Girls who played the field got called names. I knew the drill.
Also, while we’re being honest, I had been scoping out the rookies earlier, pondering the fresh offerings. Last year I went home with a freshman from this very event. Proximity to the hottest athletes at Harkness was an important perk of my job.
“What do you think of the football team this year?” Trevi asked Graham, changing the subject. Because a good captain knows when to defuse.
Graham began to talk about quarterbacks. I wasn’t much of a football fan myself. So I tuned him out, tipping my chin toward the sky to look for stars. Harkness was located in a rather industrial part of Connecticut, and usually there’s too much light pollution to see them.
Not for the first time tonight, I felt my attitude sag. The temperature was dropping fast, hinting at winter’s approach. The chill seeped into my core. I stepped closer to Graham, who draped an arm around my shoulder. I appreciated the gesture, but it didn’t really solve the problem. The empty feeling I was working tonight was bigger than a friendly hug or the beers I’d drunk.
The caterers began to take down the beer table, signifying the end of the season-opening barbecue.
My last season-opening barbecue.
The year stretched before me felt like that giant hourglass in the Wizard of Oz, ticking down while Dorothy panics.
Behind me, a group of hockey players began to laugh hard over some joke I’d missed. Their jolly voices echoed into the night, making me feel more alone.
Three
Rafe
After my quick departure from Alison’s room, I did not go home.
For a couple of hours, I walked aimlessly around campus. In an angry haze, I passed the rare books library, its peculiar stone walls rising like monoliths over my head. I passed the monument to students who had died in every war since the Revolution. I kept going, passing the graveyard and the hockey stadium.