“Go!” Cade draws his hand down, and we're off.
Naked, running, and about to traumatize anyone who didn’t get the memo about this tradition—I ignore everything and everyone. I just run. Fast. Focused. I cut across the grass and blow past the other freshmen, who immediately slow the second their feet hit the concrete, like they somehow forgot the pavement basically turns into lava this time of year.
I glide past all of them and focus on the small entrance to the courtyard.
The first one through those gates is almost always the first to the statue.
“SCOTTY! SCOTTY! SCOTTY!”
“Hey, Scotty!”
“Scotty, come here!”
“Scotty, can I wear your jersey?”
“Scotty, come to my dorm and I’ll get naked too.”
Of course there would be a chorus of girls here waiting for me. How could I forget the seven thousand friend requests I received on Covey Connections during the summer?
What the fuck is up with girls and hockey players?
And more importantly: Is my dick still covered?
With my eyes locked on the fountain, I force a grin, doing my best to ignore the onslaught of catcalls, chanting, and flashing lights. I can only hope I don't end up fully exposed in someone's viral post. Dad would have a fucking field day with that.
The statue is in sight…
No one else is even through the gates yet…
I'm only a few steps away…
But when I see who's sitting on the edge of the fountain underneath the statue, I nearly trip.
Shit.
It's her.
Laura Conners.
The one girl who always gets my attention, even though I can't seem to get hers. She sits on the front left corner of the lecture hall, and every time I’ve tried to talk to her, she’s oblivious, too focused on whatever she’s reading.
Even now she’s sitting on the ledge of the fountain, completely unaware of the chaos around her while she reads one of my favorite books,The Princess Bride.
She flicks her dark hair over her shoulder and casually bites her bottom lip.
I lick mine without thinking, wondering how she might taste.
“Scotty! Can I take a bite of your peach?!” a girl asks from behind.
That’s when I remember I’m standing buck naked with my glove over my junk, frozen mid-run as I stare at her.
Pull it together, man.
Behind me, the crowd cheers. No doubt for my teammates, who’ve kept running while I stare at a girl who's so hot it's unfair and so disinterested it hurts.
I should move. Ineedto move. Only, the second my feet hit that fountain water, she’s going to notice me whether she likes it or not, and that’s not exactly how I want to introduce myself.
Fuck, I had this all planned out. I was going to sit next to her in class on Thursday, then ask about the book she's reading, maybe make her laugh. And I was going to do all of this fully clothed, but apparently the universe has other ideas.
