HAYDEN
The common room of the athletic dorms smelled like pizza and sweat, a combination that should’ve been disgusting but was somehow just… normal.
Jason was sprawled out across one of the couches like he owned the place, controller in hand, thumbs moving furiously as he battled Logan in whatever hockey video game they were obsessed with this week.
“Goal!” Jason shouted, throwing his arms in the air as the animated puck slammed into the net.
Logan groaned, leaning back against the couch cushions. “That was cheap, man. You didn’t even...”
“Excuses, excuses,” Jason said, grinning smugly. “Don’t hate the player, hate your lack of skill.”
I sat in the armchair across from them, pretending to pay attention, but my mind was far away. Not on the game, not even on my stats from practice e
