First Chapter: Playmaker by Sierra Hill
Chapter One
ARIA
After a twenty-two-hour drive through some of the barest parts of Canada, en route from Minnesota to Vermont, the last thing I want to do is go to a college party.
I’d rather obsess over the decision which brought me here.
Besides eating my way through two full bags of venison jerky—courtesy of my mother—drinking twelve bottles of Diet Dr Pepper, pouring gallons of black coffee down my throat, and running through a treasure trove of Spotify playlists, obsessing over transferring schools was what kept me awake on the road.
And obsess I did.
If someone would have told me this time last year I’d transfer to Burlington University at the start of my junior year of college, I would’ve laughed so hard I’d pee my pants.
Yet here I am, pulling up to my new off-campus house to start over. Leaving my old life behind—my parents, my sister, my friends, my school and my hockey team—and beginning again with a new identity.
Shoving all my anxiety deep below the surface, I fling open the car door of my packed-to-the-brim Subaru and affix a smile on my face as I step out into the awaiting arms of my longtime hockey teammate and friend, and now housemate, Sophie Ricci.
“I’m so happy you made it in one piece!” Sophie exclaims, rocking me back and forth in her arms. “I’ve been waiting so long to see your ugly face. I was worried you got detained at the border or something.”
I chuckle and cling to her like she’s life support, my arms holding her tight, and letting her embrace remind me I’m not alone. I’ve known Soph since the seventh grade, when we met at an Elite hockey summer camp we attended throughout the years. She was my rock and best friend in my teens, and it’s because of her that I’m here now.
She also happens to be the only one who knows my real identity and the reason I’ve transferred.
Sophie turns to head into the old, Victorian style, three-story house that will be my new home. It’s owned by her father, and the house I’ll be sharing with five other athletes from the school. This will be the first time I’ve lived with roommates. The past two years of college, I lived at home in Duluth with my family and not in the dorms on the Big Lake University campus.
Sophie latches her hand to my wrist to pull me into the house, motioning me inside.
“Come on. Leave your bags and I’ll get you introduced to everyone who’s here so far.”
We step through the doorway and I get my first look into the sparse main living and dining areas flanking the long hallway entrance. A large-screen TV, a couple of chairs, and two long couches adorn the living room, where at the moment, two giant-sized guys sit playing a video game. Their voices are loud and argumentative, in a way only friends can rib and razz one another. The words “motherfucker” and “cocksucker” are thrown around good-naturedly.
Soph nods her chin toward the two guys. “That’s Stefan and Langston. They’re twins, both on the lacrosse team. Yo, guys. This is our new girl, Aria. Aria, meet Stef and Lang.”
One of them, no idea which, turns to the side so I can see his profile, but doesn’t let his eyes leave the game. He raises a hand and says, “Cheers, mate.”
The other brother doesn’t turn around, his eyes glued to the TV, his thumbs moving rapidly over the game controller but still manages a, “Hiya, Aria.”
Both have noticeable British accents. Or maybe Australian. I can’t be sure until Sophie clears it up for me.
“They’re from England. Cool guys, very polite and helpful around the house.” She shrugs and leads me into the kitchen. “And I even made an exception on the no pet policy because Stefan has a rodent.”
My eyes widen at the mention of a rodent. I hate mice. I do a quick scan around the room in the event I see a tail scurrying over the floor, relieved to only find a girl sitting at the kitchen table, who I assume is Sammie Loper.
I’ve never met Sam before. But she and Soph are good friends and Sam is also on our hockey team. She’s a sophomore forward, and grew up in a small town in Alberta, Canada.
Sam quietly watches me, giving me a shy smile and a shrug.
“It’s a wee hamster!” This correction obviously comes from Stefan, the hamster’s owner, who yells it over his shoulder without looking up.
Soph contorts her face and then waves her hand in the direction of Sam. “Whatever. Potato. Poh-ta-to. And here we have the beautiful, talented, and very whipped housemate, Samantha. Sam, this is my good friend, Aria…Huntington.”
I whip my head to Soph who’s eyes bug out in apology. We’d been over it a hundred times if once before. No one here would know me by my real last name.
Sam stands up and crosses the kitchen, leaning in to give me an awkward hug. “It’s so nice to finally meet you, Aria. Soph hasn’t stopped talking about you.”
“Only good things, I hope.” I lift a speculative brow at Sophie over my shoulder, who roots around in the fridge, digging inside to pull out some water bottles.
She snorts sarcastically. “I told her you swear and drink like a sailor, leave the seat up on the toilet, and fart in your sleep.”
We all laugh and Sophie reconsiders. “Oh wait. It’s Langs and Stef who do that. Silly me.”
Sophie hands me a water and I take a gulp. I feel lighter already being in Sophie’s presence. Sam returns to her seat and stares down at her phone clasped tightly in her hand, her eyes glued to the screen as if there’s news of an alien invasion she doesn’t want to miss out on.
Sophie leans in and whispers in my ear. “She and her boyfriend are already in a fight. She’s waiting for him to apologize.”
“Ah,” I say lamely, silently hoping we don’t have any relationship drama in the house. “Does he live here, too?”
After downing the water in three huge gulps, I realize I’m in need of a bathroom, sooner rather than later.
I follow Soph out of the kitchen, my gaze flicking back to Sam who’s slumped over her phone, head hung low, looking like she’s on the verge of tears.
“Justin, her bf, lives in the dorms but he spends a lot of time here. Come on, I’ll give you the dime tour of the house and then we can get the guys to help bring in your stuff.”
I nod and follow behind, reflecting on the situation with Sam and her boyfriend. Not to judge, but I honestly don’t understand the dynamics of relationships and why girls become so worked up over guys. Having never been in that situation, since I’ve never been in a relationship myself, I can’t comprehend the crazy emotions it tends to bring out. Seems like a lot of fuss over nothing if you ask me.
This is precisely why I don’t want a boyfriend or a relationship of any kind. There’s too much at stake for me this year. My objective this year is two-fold; to improve my game and help my new team make the tournament next February, and to receive an invitation to join Team USA women’s hockey.
I’ve got too much invested in my future to be sidetracked by a guy. It’s not worth it in my book. My family drama has been enough of a distraction.
Sophie points out the various rooms on the main floor as I investigate each one. The one on the left looks like it’s been ransacked. I lift my eyebrows curiously.
“That’s my bedroom,” she muses with a shrug. “It’s why I don’t share a room with anyone. Sammie and I were roommates our freshman year and truth be told I’m surprised our friendship is still intact. You’ll notice her room is spotless.”
Sure enough, I peer into her bedroom to find it clean as a whistle. Maybe even bordering on obsessively clean. Sophie turns the corner, and we head up a set of stairs leading to the second floor.
“Her dad was military, hence the pristinely made bed. Plus, she’s barely ever home to mess it up, anyway.” She flips on the light switch. “Although, right now, Justin’s being a dickhead to her, so she’ll likely be home tonight. Which reminds me, you’re coming out with us to the party at the hockey house.”
I groan. “Really? Do I have to? I’m exhausted, Soph. That drive was a bitch.”
I glide my hand over the old wood banister as we work our way upstairs, feeling the dents and grooves of the wood grain against my palm. The wood is a dark oak, thick and sturdy enough to withstand the endless cycle of renters in and out of the house over the years.
We hit the landing where there are bikes, athletic equipment and various other sporting gear strewn about the hallway.
Sophie twists her head back to me. “Yes, you’re going. Take a nap beforehand. You’ll be fine.”
I take a step over a lacrosse stick and sigh.
“This floor is where the twins sleep.” She takes a deep sniff, her nose scrunching at the odiferous smell. “Ugh, his hamster reeks. Or maybe it’s coming from their bathroom.”
She shakes her head in disgust and we continue climbing one more round of stairs to the top floor where my room will be.
Because I’m so tired, it takes me a moment to latch onto something she said about the party.
“The hockey house?” I ask, my brows lifting skyward.
Sophie stops abruptly, spinning around on the step above me. I catch myself before ramming into her stomach, grabbing hold of the railing to keep from falling backwards. She stares down at me, her expression incredulous as if I just told her Santa Claus isn’t real.
“The hockey house is where most of the hockey guys live and where we hang out for parties. Tonight’s the pre-semester soirée. Didn’t you get the text I sent you earlier? I can’t wait to introduce you to everybody. Including Callan, your new neighbor.”
She hops up the last two steps, landing on the top floor with a soft thump. Then she extends her arms wide, spinning in a circle to indicate the magnificence of the area.
“Here it is. What do you think?”
I take in the bright and open area, dormers on the front and backside, the roof curving in an arched slope, giving it an attic-like feel. Once again, there are two bedrooms and one bathroom, which I was informed I’d be sharing with my suitemate. A senior hockey player named Callan. Sophie hasn’t mentioned much else about him except he’s from Canada, and isn’t slated to be moved in until sometime before Monday.
Even the doorknobs are the old, octagon-style Victorian glass knobs. She opens the door to the left as it squeaks on its hinges and inside is a double mattress on a brass bedframe, a five-drawer bureau, a closet and a chair.
A small window with the paint chipping from the frame is open above the bed, a light early fall breeze blowing inside, the scent of autumn leaves wafting through.
I smile a genuine smile for the first time in weeks, and say, “It’s perfect, Soph.”
My friend smiles, and she embraces me in a hug. It’s good to be in the presence of a friend who knows what I’m going through and won’t judge me for something I can’t control.
“Awesome. Now let’s go get the lugs off the couch downstairs and get them to help bring your bags up to your room. Spend some time getting settled and then we’ll head to the party at nine.”
I stare longingly at the bed, wishing I could lay down and sleep for a week. But I can’t possibly turn her down since she has been nothing but supportive, and she’s gone out of her way to get me this room so I wouldn’t be stuck in the crappy and overcrowded dorms. I reluctantly nod and give her a double thumbs up.
“Sounds good. I’m in.”