COMPLETED. A university student. A professional hockey player. They've proved they can be friends. Can they be more?
Although they're both in their early twenties and living in Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada, their lives couldn't be more different. Cami...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
It happened every time without fail.
The days preceding an exam were spent in survival mode. The priority was studying; that was what required our A-effort and attention. Everything else; whatever we could do would have to do. Even if that meant that a break consisted of staring at a wall, or if dinner meant a handful of chocolate chips, or, my personal favourite, if naps consisted of two minutes of closed eyes with notes clutched in your hands.
To get themselves through that slog, many students would plan something fun to do as soon as they were done the exam. For me, it was an opportunity to finally order that book I had been dying to read and swap my textbook for my Kindle. This time, however, plans were a little different. Lawson and Angela wanted to do something actually fun (as if a new adult romance isn't!) with Taylor and myself.
Okay, the book can wait, was my first thought when Angela suggested it to me, especially when she mentioned Taylor. If he wasn't part of the plans, I definitely would've chosen the student-teacher romance novel over hanging with Angela and Lawson.
Seeing Taylor again sounded good, too good for me to admit. While I had spent the week studying, he had spent the week in the States on a road trip. We texted when we could, which wasn't all that often. There was a minor time difference, in more ways than one. The one time Taylor was really busy—when he was on the ice—was when I wasn't. By seven pm each night, I had my notes packed up and was resting on the couch, watching him, ironically.
All that was to say that I was looking forward to reconnecting with Taylor again.
Because that's what I felt we had. A connection. A genuine connection.
I didn't think it happened all that often in my life, and I never could have imagined I'd have one with a professional hockey player.
The issue, however, was that I was now regretting agreeing to the plans. I had written the exam this morning and I was now. Dead. Tired.
I should've known. I really should have.
I've written enough exams in my life to know that the day (sometimes days) following the exam was hellish. If I didn't fall immediately into my bed after I made myself a snack when I got home, I considered that a success.
Even taking into account my exhaustion by planning a low impact activity didn't help. Movies went unwatched. Books went unread. Tears were shed. My mood always seemed to be particularly low. It was like I needed Viagra for motivation.
I just couldn't get it up.
That was why I was laying on my back, starfish style, on Angela's bed at her mother's house.
"I haven't been here in so long," I exclaimed. "I miss it!"
Ang stopped sifting through her closet and frowned. "How can you miss it? We never hung out here, always at your place."
