What Are The Odds?: A college hockey romance. (Phil-U Book 1)
What Are The Odds?: Chapter 4

Grace.

I slipped my arms through my puffer vest before sitting on the edge of my bed to lace my sneakers. Reaching down was hard. My legs were so sore. Heck, my entire body was. Training had been next level this past week. I was used to the five-am alarms, and pool days, and out of water conditioning. But this program was something else. I’d known it was a competitive course applying to it, but I hadn’t expected it to kick my ass within the first week. It was going to be a long year. I had a feeling this semester would be too. At least my analytics class. Ironically I’d been looking forward to it. It was the only class I shared with my dormmate, Stella. A group project with her would’ve been a breeze. But thanks to the media photos, I’d got stuck at the front table and landed myself in a group with two guys who clearly had it out for each other. Stella had filled me in on the ice-hockey-football-feud, and Ava, my other dormmate, had mentioned something about them arguing the night we watched the AFL Grand Final. Admittedly, that night was a little hazy for me. Due to the time difference between Australia and Philadelphia, the game hadn’t started until around two-am. By the time it finished, the sun was well and truly up. Hence the Monday morning hangover. When the other Australian exchange students had suggested we watch the game, I’d been eager to momentarily pretend that I was home. AFL Grand Final was something we always made a day of. Usually it was spent underneath a pergola, a barbecue cooking in the background and a post-game round of backyard cricket. The jam-packed sporting bar was a change of tune, but it had still been a lot of fun. It was nice being surrounded by people who were as far from home as me. It made me feel a little less out of my depth here.

“Where are you off to?” Stella asked, stepping out the bathroom.

Her wet auburn hair was combed over one shoulder. Like Ava and me, Stella was on the swimming team. Most exchange students had been partnered up with a local from their sport. Someone who could hold our hands while we figured out how to tip. Stella was mine and Ava’s unofficial tour guide and culture expert. She had a cliché-list of things we needed to tick off this year. Like a college football game and a frat party. I was all for it. But so far I’d been too tired from training to do much at night.

“I’m meeting my analytics group,” I told her.

Her green eyes widened.

“You mean you’re meeting up with Levi Holloway and Ryker Richardson?”

The full names were totally unnecessary.

“They’re just my study group, Stels.”

She laughed at that. “My innocent little Australian. You have no idea how lucky you are.”

A fact she had reminded me of multiple times since our groups were handed out. And again when I asked to borrow her phone to message Levi and Ryker. I was yet to buy a US sim. My phone was currently limited to apps my WiFi connected to. Stella walked to the wardrobe, rummaging through it for something to wear.

“On a scale of one to totally inappropriate, how wrong is it for me to steal their numbers and message them for non-analytical-group-project-reasons?” she asked.

“Do what you want, Stels. Just promise you’ll wait until after this group project is done. I have a feeling it’s going to be difficult enough.”

She waggled her eyebrows. “Difficult to stay focussed?”

“Wow. You really have a crush.”

“Please, Grace. Half the campus does. And I put money on the fact you will soon enough.”

I may not be able to get to the local chemist without Google Maps, but I was confident about this.

“Never going to happen.”

*

I reached the coffee shop at the same time as Levi. He was walking beside a tall brunette. Not the cheerleader, but just as attractive. Despite the cool temperature, she was dressed in jeans and a crop that left her whole stomach on display. Subconsciously I tightened my arms around myself. Her bare skin made me shiver. Levi did a doubletake when he noticed me approaching. He was wearing a black hoodie and grey trackies. It was both casual yet perfectly styled at the same time. He slowed to a stop, forcing the brunette to do the same.

“I had a really good time last night,” she said.

“Me too.”

I barely knew the guy, but even I could tell he didn’t mean that.

“What are you doing tonight?” the girl asked.

“I have practice.”

“And now?”

“Working on a group project.” He glanced at me in his peripheral vision. “It’ll probably be an all-day thing.”

Liar. This would be thirty minutes. Tops. All we had to do was decide on our topic. Something I’d tried to organise through messages. Of course Ryker and Levi had continually vetoed each other’s ideas. We’d gone back and forth for ages until deciding it would be easier to have this conversation face-to-face.

The brunette pouted. “Some other time then.” She turned to leave before whipping back. “Wait, I don’t have your number.”

Levi tensed. “You gave me yours.”

“Right.”

Pressing onto her toes, she leant in to kiss him goodbye. But the vibes were totally one sided. At the last second, he turned his head, the kiss landing on his cheek. It was bloody awkward to witness. I ought to look away, but it was like a trainwreck. I’d definitely be giving Stella a play by play of this moment. Hopefully it would be enough for her to knock Levi Holloway off the pedestal she had him on.