Breaking the Ice

five

"Did you do the calc homework?"

I shut my locker with a clang, holding my textbook to my chest as my gaze slid to Jase, who was standing behind me and gripping the straps of his backpack. I raked him with a droll stare. "Yeah, why?"

Jason shrugged, walking in stride with me as we made our way to class. "Last night I didn't have time to finish it. I was busy."

"Busy getting laid?" I deadpanned, but a hint of a teasing smile tugged at my lips.

Jase hummed, a cheeky grin spreading across his cheeks. "Something like that."

Jason and I had been friends since the start of middle school when he joined the hockey team. When he had first showed up at the rink, he was a skinny, scrawny thing; hardly anything impressive to look at but oozing confidence nonetheless. At first, I had assumed he would be an asshole with the way he carried himself, standing tall with his chin up and a straight-toothed smile. But after he and I were paired for some drills on the ice, I realized he wasn't so bad, and the rest was history.

Eventually, he grew into his looks and became what he is now: tall, blond, and charming. Girls swarmed him, and he basked in it. Miraculously, though, he didn't let the attention get to his head. He had a big ego, sure, but it was how he had always been—and how I'm certain he still would be even if curvy cheerleaders stopped flinging themselves into his lap.

The hallways were buzzing with students, nearly 3,000 of us squished into the tiny building. A group of sophomore girls stood against the lockers as they laughed at someone's phone, some juniors were passing around a vape by the bathrooms, and a gaggle of freshmen from the school's orchestra was hauling a large viola into the band room at the end of the hall. Athletes were trotting down the halls, many with partners or potential hookups latched to their arms, hooting and cheering in anticipation for game week. Whoops and laughs echoed through the school, and people chanted and smacked their fists to lockers to make noise for the football (American) players as they jogged down the hall, all shoulder pads, smiles, and flashy waves. Even the teachers leaned out of their classrooms to clap, though much more politely than the students.

Sometime near the beginning of the year, when all the sports teams were fresh and excited, there would usually end up being a week with some sort of game or meet all five days. It was always met with hype and celebration, and the students tended to see it as an excuse to get drunk and party. It didn't help that Friday happened to be Halloween, which was also met with some sort of big event. Honestly, it was going to be a bash, and everyone was bursting at the seams with anticipation.

"Lukie!" a particularly loud, tenor voice laughed, accompanied by a rough tackle to my arm. "Dude, it's game week! You pumped?"

I startled, catching myself before mellowing my expression and sticking out my hand to initiate one of those bro-handshakes. "Hell yeah, man. Let's go."

Adam grinned, sliding his palm against mine and bumping our knuckles. He was tall—taller than Jase—with tan skin, fluffy, black hair, and dark, almond-shaped eyes. He was the running back on the football team, and was wicked good. Or, so I'd heard. I'd never paid too much attention.

He was a cool guy: stupidly smart, good-looking, and with a good sense of humor. Our friend groups usually ended up hanging out at parties together, and Christ, that guy could drink. His charms and good-naturedness appealed to the ladies, and it usually wasn't long before he left me to my other friends in favor of taking a girl upstairs. True to his nature, currently at his side was a pretty brunette I recognized from my English class, their hands clasped together and her ear pressed to his arm.

"Are you guys coming to our game tonight?" Adam asked, gesturing to me and Jason. I made eye contact with Jase, who just propped his elbow on my shoulder and leaned into my side.