Breaking the Ice

eighteen

My shower had been extra long and extra uncomfortable that afternoon. So much so that, when Jason texted me saying he was there to pick me up, I was still scrambling to grab my things. He arrived in his mom's luxury car, and when I crawled into the passenger seat with my hair still dripping water, he almost ripped my head clean from my neck.

"Dude, what the fuck!" Jase exclaimed, rushing to pull a rag out of his glovebox. "I swear to God if you damage the leather seats, Mom's gonna' kick my ass."

"Sorry, sorry." Leaning over the center console, I dumped my bag on the floor of the backseat. As I did, Jason roughly rubbed the little towel into my head, shoving my nose into the back of the chair. "Fuck, Jase!"

"Why were you showering right before practice, anyways?" he asked with a last push to my head before moving his hands back to curl around the steering wheel. "You're hair is gonna' freeze the fuck off in the rink."

I shrugged, drying my own hair and righting myself in my seat. "Felt gross after school."

Jason hummed noncommittally. "Need a ride home tonight?"

"Nah," I replied. "I got one."

About to say something, Jase was cut off by a phone call blaring through his car's speakers. I caught the little dashboard screen reading "Harpy" tailed by a few hearts before he jerkily shut it off. I felt a smile of realization creep up my cheeks.

"Who's that?" I asked carefully.

"A hookup." A blush, so subtle anyone who hadn't grown up with Jase wouldn't have noticed

"Not just a hookup?"

"Just a hookup."

"But you didn't fuck her?"

Jason rolled his eyes, drumming his fingers across the steering wheel, but didn't reply. It was as good of an answer as any.

"Ooooooooh," I mocked with an exaggerated fake swoon. It was an act only Jase's embarrassment could pull out of me. "Man-whore Jasey-wasey put his dick away because has a little crush—"

"Luke."

"I never thought I'd see the day when you'd think with your bigger head—"

"Lucas!"

"Does she wear a chastity belt or something? That's the only way I can imagine—umph!"

A whack to the face with the towel and a snarled "shut your ass up" did, in fact, shut me up.

By the time we pulled into a parking space at the rink, Jase was a pleasant shade of pink and I, myself, was a few shades more smug. After making me swear up and down that I would keep my trap shut about 'Harpy' and rapping on and on about the nonexistent mess in his car, he walked with me up towards the locker rooms to change into our uniforms.

The team was all inside, laughing and hooting and half-naked. One group of juniors was jumping on top of each other, some boys were huddled around someone's laptop wearing toothy grins, Thomas was texting in the corner while shoving some freshman off his shoulder, and Simon was taking off his shirt while trying not to put down his paperback. Damian, a sophomore forward, was shoved into me as I walked between rows of lockers, prompting hollers from the boys pushing each other around.

"Cool it," Jason grunted from behind me. The boys laughed, and at that, Damien flushed up to his ears.

"My bad," he muttered, glancing at Jase and I sideways before scurrying back off.

I sighed, dropping my bag on the bench and pulling off my shirt. "Guys, break it up. If y'all don't get yourselves together, I'll need to call disciplines."