The panic struck me like a physical blow. My hands trembled on the chess pieces, the game before me blurring insignificantly. "I need to go see Peter," I blurted out as I struggled to rise from the bed. Adrien was quick to react, his earlier playful demeanor replaced by concern. "Let's get you there," he said, stepping up to support me. We approached the nurse's station, where the nurse who had shown a soft spot for Adrien was seated. Her eyes flickered up as we approached. Adrien flashed his most charming smile, a strategic move I was starting to recognize all too well. "Hey, could you do us a huge favor? James really needs to see Peter. It's important for his recovery too, emotional healing and all that." The nurse hesitated, looking between Adrien's earnest expression and my anxious one. It was clear she was swayed by Adrien's appeal. "Okay, but just for a few minutes," she relented Adrien's charm had worked its magic once more. "Thanks," Adrien and I chorused, relief evident
After breakfast the following day, I felt a familiar wave of disappointment. The meal was bland and uninspiring. Simple dishes designed for those in recovery. I wasn't sure how people were supposed to regain their strength by eating this kind of food. The watery oatmeal and dry toast seemed like a punishment rather than sustenance. I was picking at a piece of toast, wondering if I could choke it down, when the door opened, and Nick walked in. He had a bag tucked under his arm, his usual silent demeanor intact. Without a word, he placed the bag on the table in front of me, giving me a quick nod before sitting down. As usual, he was a man of few words, and I was beginning to really appreciate this part of him. He wasn't overbearing like some of the other guys, and you didn't have to guess at his intentions... just pay attention to his actions. The bag smelled sweet, like sugar and vanilla. I almost attacked it, pulling out the cookies and slices of cake from last night's dinner.
The nurse walked me through the discharge process with a new sense of urgency, even for her. She normally carried an air of authority, but now it felt different. She rushed through the checklist, barely looking at me as she scribbled her notes. It was like she wanted me out as quickly as possible. Everything about this morning was off: the abrupt discharge, the barely there examination, and now the nurse's impatience. What was going on? "Hey, can I see Peter before I leave?" I asked, hoping to catch her off guard. "Sorry, not now. You need to head back to your dorm and rest," she replied without even glancing up from her clipboard. I refused to budge. "Look, I just need one minute with him. Please, it's important." She sighed, tapping her pen on the edge of the clipboard. "James, I really can't. We need to keep the infirmary clear for emergencies, and you need to get back to your dorm as soon as possible." I folded my arms. "I'm not leaving until I see him. Just for a minute."
Kris led me to a window near the second-floor stairwell door. He pointed to the north, where a dark, ominous cloud loomed on the horizon, its edges rolling like something from a disaster movie. It looked like the end of the world, and I wasn't sure if I was ready for it. "That's the biggest blizzard this area's seen in a hundred years," Kris said. "Holy shit!" I blurted out, my voice going up an octave higher than I'd intended. I coughed quickly, pretending it was something in my throat, but I could see the smirk on Kris's face. "What? Don't like storms or something?" he teased, raising an eyebrow. I laughed, but it came out more nervous than I'd hoped. "I'm from Texas. I've never seen snow," I said, sounding casual as possible. "Not once?" he asked, his disbelief evident. "Not once," I confirmed, shrugging like it wasn't a big deal, even though my heart was racing at the thought of being trapped in a blizzard. Kris smiled wide, his eyes lighting up. "Well, then you're in for a
I sighed in relief, recognizing his voice instantly. "Yeah, man," I replied, pressing my back against the cold tiles of the shower stall. "Wait, how could you tell it was me?" Jules laughed. "Honestly? Your green eyes show even through the frost." "Holy shit." My response was more of a startled whisper. I hadn't realized the frosted glass was that see-through. The implications of that were a little unnerving. I turned my back slightly, feeling suddenly exposed. "I didn't realize it was that see-through," I remarked, trying to keep my tone casual and my voice deep. Jules' laughter rang out again, and I could almost picture his amused expression. "Yeah, that's why they added the extra half wall. The folks who remodeled messed up and used the wrong glass on the last one." I chuckled, trying to hide my anxiety. The thought that someone could have seen more than just my eyes was unsettling. I ran a hand through the water streaming down my face, pushing back the damp strands of hair.
I walked over to the window, drawn by the low rumble of wind against the glass. The sky was a furious swirl of dark clouds, the air thick with the promise of snow. As I watched, heavy flakes began to fall, blanketing the ground in a relentless surge of white. The wind howled, whipping the snow into towering drifts, and the trees bent under the weight of the gathering mass. It was something I'd never seen before. Ominous and powerful, with the force to transform the familiar campus into an alien landscape. Alec came up behind me. I could feel the heat coming off of his body. Why was he so damn warm? He peered over my shoulder, looking out at the storm. "Yeah, it should be fun, especially if we get to play the game in it," he mused, his voice carrying a note of excitement that seemed at odds with the scene outside. "Do they still play games in that?" I asked in total disbelief. Playing a game in such a storm seemed ludicrous, almost reckless. Even if the game was indoors, peopl
"Okay," Adrien began, tapping the book with his pen. "Hockey has offense and defense. You have six players on the ice per team. Three forwards, two defensemen, and a goalie. The forwards are responsible for scoring goals, while the defensemen focus on stopping the other team from scoring. The goalie, obviously, is the last line of defense." I nodded, trying to visualize what he was describing. It seemed straightforward enough, but the speed and intensity of the game had always intimidated me. "So, what am I expected to do?" I asked, hoping he would say everything simple. Adrien smiled, understanding my apprehension. "You'll probably be put in as a forward, but don't worry. You won't play much, especially not until you've been to a practice or two. It's more about getting familiar with the game, seeing how you move on the ice." He flipped to a page with diagrams of the different positions. "The easiest position for someone new is probably right wing. You stick to the side, focus on
The morning of the game, I faced a new challenge. Getting dressed in the locker room with the guys who totally expected me to be there now without revealing too much. So, I layered most of my uniform under my new heavy winter coat, planning to use the cold as an excuse for my unusual dressing routine. If anyone asked, I was just trying to stay warm on the way to the rink, being Southern and all.The guys decided to head out three hours early to help me catch up on what I needed to know before the game. Nick took the lead, his Northern Russian upbringing making him seemingly impervious to the harsh, snowy conditions. He barreled through the snow like it was nothing, totally in his element. The snow was still falling heavily, the drifts so high they nearly obscured the path. Not familiar with the routes and struggling to keep up, I found myself trailing far behind the group quickly.Jules noticed and doubled back, wrapping his arm around my shoulders with a laugh. "Sorry, forgot you