What I wouldn’t give for just one day—just one damn day—where I’m not a Hendricks, but just… Scotty. All I want is to be a regular freshman trying to figure shit out like everyone else.
My phone buzzes with a text. I hesitantly check it, half-expecting some ‘inspiration’ from my dad on how to act like a college student while ignoring the fact everyone knows who I am.
It's not… it's worse.
You've been added to group: 'Operation seduce Duchess of Drench without her realizing.'
I press the button to leave, but I stop when I see the sheer number of teammates he’s adding.
Everyone. Absolutely everyone on the hockey team is in this group.
Brooks:Is there a reason why you've added us all to your latest fanfic update?
Erik:Fanfic? This has nothing to do with my Baseball Bachelor blog, and everything to do with Scotty.
Cade:If you’re planning something illegal, it stops now. I don’t want you getting the hockey team in trouble with your antics, Steele.
Erik:It’s not illegal, it’s a romantic plan to get Scotty’s crush to forgive him. Step one: accidental proximity. We engineer ‘chance’ encounters. Dining hall, campus bookstore, laundry room—bonus points if she's folding embarrassing underwear.
Scotty:I’m not stalking her.
Erik:You're right. We’re going to do that for you. Besides, it’s not stalking if she falls in love at the end. Step two: plant emotional landmines. Niche compliments. Eye contact that lingers. Make her laugh, but like, wounded-animal laugh. It should be vulnerable, and raw.
Alex:Why do I actually want to see how far he takes this?
Erik:Step three: bake something and leave it outside her door. No note. Just vibes.
Scotty:I don’t bake.
Erik:I bake. You’ll deliver. You’ll be like a sexy, mysterious muffin man. Girls eat that shit up.
Brooks:If we do it, maybe Erik will stop.
Scotty:You’re all insane.
Erik:And you’re in love. Let me help you win, Mr. Stanley Cup.
I sigh, putting my phone on silent and shoving it into my pocket. I’ll deal with them and their stupid ideas later. It’s not like they’ll change anything between her and me, anyway.
Tomorrow will be the first time I see her again afterthe incident, and I have no idea how she's going to react.
Will she even look at me? Or will I forever be the naked psycho who assaulted her with my hockey stick?
Why do I even care so much? She’s just a girl who goes to my college. There are plenty of girls who go here. Maybe I should take my father’s advice and date.
Only, there aren’t any other girls readingThe Princess Bride,or treating me like I mean absolutely nothing to them. Or have lips that I think about kissing to the point I forget what our lecturer is saying.
She’ll probably ignore me tomorrow… she should, but I’m not ready for that to be the end. I just hope I can at least apologize to her without accidentally assaulting her with another limb.
Chapter 4
I’m sprinting to class, cursing under my breath as I rip off a fake eyelash and shove it in my bag. The second one comes off with a painful tug that makes my eyes water.
I’m late.
Never again am I booking a birthday party between classes. Sure, the money’s good, but it’s worthless if I end up kicked out of Covey U.
My backpack lands on my back with a hard, repetitive thud as I dash across the quad. My lungs burn, and I’m pretty sure there’s glitter glue in my hair from when Emma squirted it on my head while we were making a magical glitter unicorn, but there’s nothing I can do now.
