Power Plays & Straight A's - Eden Finley Page 0,18
with guys?”
“I … I suppose I am.”
“Yeah, they have. I don’t hide it.”
I blink at Foster, trying to wrap my head around it. While I’ve never really had opinions of him, positive or negative—outside of a heavy dose of lust—a trickle of respect starts to awaken. Not many people could exist in an environment that prizes sleeping around with women, and still be true to who they are. “Yet your team still looks to you for leadership.”
“Who I fuck has nothing to do with my skills on the ice.”
“Conceptually, I know that. However same-sex attraction is usually seen as a weakness.”
Foster shakes his head. “Things are changing. People aren’t as closed-minded as they used to be.”
Is he kidding? People are exactly as closed-minded as they used to be. “That definitely hasn’t been my experience,” I say softly.
He stops walking, so I pause also. In the moonlight, I can’t make out the color of his eyes but it’s impossible not to notice his intense stare. “Have people been saying shit to you?”
Something about his strained voice makes me smile. “Thankfully, people here seem content to ignore me. Except for one annoying hockey player. For whatever reason, he seems determined to be nice to me.”
“It’s a total mystery.” His gaze rakes over my face. “Come on. Tonight is going to be good for you.”
Resigned, I turn to keep walking when I feel something that almost makes me stumble.
Foster’s hand presses lightly against my lower back. Every nerve in my body zeroes in on his hand. It hovers there, one second, then two. He increases the pressure to get me walking.
Then it’s gone.
The warmth his touch sets off in my chest settles until I replay the memory again and again. My skin is buzzing.
A smile slips onto my face that I can’t remove.
I’m well aware that getting all starry-eyed over Foster is ridiculous at best, but my body’s natural reactions to him are overriding my common sense, and I can’t seem to make it stop.
The mixer is being held in one of the small lounge areas in Winchester House. As one of the largest buildings on campus, Foster explains most activities are held here. It’s another steel and glass structure, and while the historic feel of the campus is missing, I don’t completely hate the sleek lines and interesting proportions.
Foster holds the door open, and as I pass him, I hope to feel his hand again. He holds back this time, and I assure myself it’s obviously a good thing because accidental touching will only make me want more.
The mixer is a few rooms down, and again, Foster gets the door. I’m used to slipping in and out of rooms unnoticed, like a shadow on the wall, but when we walk into the lounge, the reaction couldn’t be more different.
There’s a small commotion.
I quickly step back as two people launch themselves at Foster and a few others make their way over. Everyone is talking fast and smiling a lot, and as I look around at the forty or so people here, it seems as though the entire gathering has stopped with Foster’s arrival.
“Grant, you came!” says a bubbly little blonde with a nose piercing and too much makeup. It looks like a mask in comparison to the man next to her, who is also wearing makeup. As they all work to monopolize Foster’s attention, I slink away into the background where I’m most comfortable.
There are a few people dotted around the room who don’t come to a complete standstill at Foster’s arrival, and my attention catches on one of them as she approaches me.
“Baby unicorn.” The odd girl from the library nods at me. Her tufty black hair looks more uneven than last time I saw her.
“My name is Zach.”
“I didn’t ask for it.”
“What’s your name?”
“Laura, but people call me Ray.”
“Why?”
“Because I tell them to.” She gestures toward the entrance. “Why were you with Grant?”
I look over to where he’s easily accepting the type of attention that would turn me into a shaking mess. A tall girl tugs on his dark brown hair and he turns his smile on her. I wonder what that would feel like. To have one of his honest smiles. “He’s my best friend’s brother. For some reason he thinks I want to be here.”
She eyes me. “Are you gay?”
“Yes. Are you?”
“Ace. Aro. And also, I don’t like people in general.”
“But you are a person.”
“I know.” She scrunches up her face. “Rotten luck, right?”