She pulls back and wipes her mouth a little. “You’re, uh, a little enthusiastic,” she says. “But I can work with that.” She kisses back and rests her hands low on my hips, leaning into me. This is fucking awesome, so I use my teeth a little more, nibbling and sucking and—
“Fuck!” Chelsie screams. And not in a good way. I only know this because she’s backed up about a foot and she’s holding her mouth. Panic freezes my entire body.
"Holy shit. I'm so sorry. I—"
"What the fuck?! Did you bite me? I think you bit me?!"
"Sorry, I’m so sorry. You said you liked a firm touch and—"
"Yeah, a firm touch—not a firmbite! Oh my god. That was...that was like kissing a dying jellyfish. It was all limp and slimy at first. Then it fucking stung me."
“I’m so sorry, I—”
“What a waste,” she says, shaking her head and tying her bikini top back on. “You’re hot and all, but damn. That was the worst kiss of my life, and I had such high hopes for you. You need, like, lessons or something.” And with that pronouncement, she leaves the room.
Too mortified to move, I sit half naked on a total stranger's bed until my phone buzzes. I check it, half afraid it’s the college, revoking my athletic scholarship on account of the fact that I’m a complete dumbass.
It’s not the dean, but it’s nearly as bad.
Mom: How’s your first night at college? Dad and I miss you!
I pocket my phone. There’s no way I’m replying right now. What the hell would I say?My night’s kinda rough, Mom. Went to my first frat party and got half naked with a girl. But she left the room pissed as hell. Turns out I can’t even kiss.
I wander back out into the party, which hasn’t slowed down at all. If anything, it’s even more crowded than it was half an hour ago. I wind my way back outside to find my teammates Van and Santos just where I left them. I’ve known them for a handful of hours, since I just arrived at Bainbridge earlier today, but they seem like good guys. They also seem like cool guys, the kind who are smooth and know what the hell to do with a naked girl. Unlike me.
There’s an empty beach chair nearby, so I grab it and take a seat. “Hey, where is everybody?"
Santos shrugs. “Booker's boyfriend is in town this weekend, so he left early. Last I saw Norris, he was talking to some curvy little blonde. And who knows where the hell Ollie is. You having fun, freshman?”
Am I having fun? No. I'd rather be on my bed playingWizards and Warlocksand eating pizza. That’s how I spent most nights in high school, and honestly? It beats the hell out of tonight.
As if he senses my answer, Van just laughs and hands me a cold beer.
Well, at least I've got friends.
But a girlfriend? Someone to hang out with and laugh with? Someone to take my damn virginity? That's clearly not happening any time soon.
I lean back in the beach chair that is too small for my frame and take a sip of watered-down beer. My first day of college life didn’t go quite the way I planned, but that means the only way to go is up, right?
2
Will
So, my first college party wasn’t quite as awesome as I wanted it to be, but I’m not going to let that get me down. Sure, I apparently kiss like a dying jellyfish, but there are also definite perks to college life.
I’m a couple hundred miles from home, which, I can’t lie, is pretty awesome in itself. In the dictionary next to the term “helicopter parents” is a picture of my mom and dad. Don’t get me wrong—they’re great people. But man, can they hover. Every minute of my life up to this point has been planned, measured, and supervised—from my hockey career down to the friends I can hang out with. My dad believes that discipline is the way to success, and my mom believes that video games and fast food pave the path to hell.
What do I believe in? I’m about to find out.
I’m a twenty-year-old freshman and I want to try anything and everything college has to offer. The idea of living on my own—well, with eight other guys—blows my mind. If I want to eat sugary cereal for breakfast, or hell, even dinner, no one’s gonna stop me. But I don’t think I’m gonna squander my free choice on processed breakfast foods. Nope. I have my sights set a little higher than that.
This semester, I’m gonna let loose. I’m dying to experience all the things that have been just out of my reach. I could never go to parties because my schedule was way too packed for that. Even in Juniors, nearly every hour of my day was accounted for. And the family I lived with while I played for the Canton Cannons? They were every bit as strict and nosy as my own parents. Plus, the small group of friends I had weren’t really the partying sort. Don’t get me wrong—we had fun, but not the kind of fun I’m gonna have this year. This year, I’ve got goals, which, in a way, would make my dad proud.
Goal #1: Play Hard.
I've been skating since I could walk. Hockey’s in my blood. My dad played in college, and my uncle was my coach in high school, but I’m the first in my family with a real shot at the big leagues. I went in the 7th round of the draft this past summer, which means that if I play hard and all goes according to plan, I could be playing for Los Angeles someday. It’s part of the reason my dad agreed to let me leave Ohio to head east and play at Bainbridge for Coach Baylor. He’s turned this program around the past couple years, and some of his former players are making names for themselves in the NHL. Plus, last year’s team was on the verge of winning it all at the Frozen Four. They fell short, but that’s not happening again. They’ve got some fantastic players, and I can’t fucking wait to be part of this team.
I know I have what it takes to earn my spot as a Bainbridge Wolf. I’m big enough to be intimidating, and I’m faster than I look. I’m a playmaker. I find ways to score. Well, on the ice, at least.
