Weak Side : A Fake Dating Hockey Romance (Bexley U)

Ballet dancers were used to being on their feet. I’d been a dancer since I was old enough to walk, and although it wasn’t my dream to become a professional ballet dancer or to be on Broadway one day, my mother ran with the idea and pushed me into every dance class the studio offered, even if it did cost us an arm and a leg—and oftentimes, the electric.

Still, my feet were aching in my tennies, and I knew my arm would be sore tomorrow from carrying the trays of food to what seemed like every single student at Bexley U. The Bex was the most popular hangout spot for college students, and the tips were decent, but we had been slammed for most of my shift, and after my day, I was over it. My phone buzzed for the fifth time in the last twenty minutes, and I ignored it, knowing one text was my mother with her reminder of the electric bill being due tomorrow, and the other four were from Chad, wondering why I wasn’t answering his messages right away even though he hardly ever responded to mine.

“I’m not gonna lie. I didn’t miss the rush of move-in day. Not one bit.”

A small laugh left me as I placed table four’s food on my tray. My arm was a little shaky, and my pulse was thumping from running back and forth from the dining area to the kitchen. “It’s dying down,” I said back to my boss. “The tips have been good today, at least.” I smiled as I rushed past her, placing the food down on the table to a family of four.

“Thank you, honey.” The father of what I assumed to be a freshman smiled at me. “Do you attend Bexley U? Or do you just work here?”

Putting the tray underneath my arm, I glanced at the table to make sure their drinks were full and everything was correct with their orders. “Oh, yes. I attend. This is my third year.” I glanced over to the girl who had a healthy amount of admiration on her features as she peered up at me with her innocent eyes. I smiled at her. “Is this your first year?”

She nodded, and I watched as her chest rose with a tight breath. “You’re going to love it here,” I encouraged, trying to make her feel a little better. College was intimidating to an eighteen-year-old, and if her family was anything like they appeared, she was going to be homesick the moment they left.

“Thanks.” Her voice was soft as she grabbed a French fry and dipped it into the small cup of ranch. “Were you nervous your freshman year too?”

Not even a little bit. The thought of being on my own and not having to worry over if our electric was going to be shut off or the water was going to suddenly be ice cold after dance practice was more than pleasing.

“Absolutely,” I lied. “We all are. If you ever need anything, I’m Claire. I’m here most weekends, okay?” I winked at her, and the softness in her mother’s eyes sent a gust of warmth through me. She mouthed the words, ‘Thank you,’ as I backed away and headed to the kitchen. I smiled and turned around to take a breather when I suddenly bounced off a hard wall.

“Umph.” My hand went to my forehead as my tray slipped from my grasp. Before it fell to the ground and caused the entire establishment to stare at me, someone caught it at the same time their other hand landed on my upper arm.

“For as tiny as you are, you sure do hold your own.” His smooth chuckle raked over my heated skin, and my gaze flung to his, freezing my senses for a second.

My mouth opened as he handed back the tray and towered over me like a skyscraper. Before I could say anything, my new roommate glanced around The Bex and nodded to a few people before leaning into my space. “When is your shift over?”

“Why?” My question was blunt and bordered on rude, but I was confused and a little agitated that everyone was staring at us. Typical jock of Bexley U, though. They drew attention everywhere they went.

“We have a meeting with the dean.”

And just like that, all the heat in my body vanished, and I was left with a dry mouth and cold, clammy skin. “No.” I shook my head after clearing my throat. “I mean, why?”

I did not have an issue with authority. I was a star student throughout grade school and high school, and my dance teachers adored me because I was a rule follower by nature. The thought of disappointing anyone, even my mother, sent me into a straight spiral, but this? Meeting with Dean Chiffon? This was an issue.

“Trying to fix our little problem, Bryant.”

Too stunned by the recent memory of the last time I had come into contact with the dean, I couldn’t even act irritated that he called me Bryant instead of Claire.

“Claire?” Angie, my boss, slowly approached us. “Everything okay?” She eyed my new roommate before shifting her confused gaze to me. “Is something wrong?”

“Oh, um.”

“Hi. I’m—”

“Theo.” Angie smiled. “Yes, I know who you are. My son is obsessed with you. I’m taking him to your first game this season for his birthday.” I stood back and angled my chin up toward my roommate. Theo. Theo Brooks. No wonder there was a naked girl in his bed. His name was plastered everywhere at Bexley U. Even I knew his name, which was impressive because I stayed far away from anything sports related.

“Oh, really?” Theo’s smile caught my eye, and I’ll admit, it was a nice one. “If I see you in the stands, I’ll try to skate over and give him a puck. Do you think he’d like that?”

Angie’s eyes widened. “Do I think he’d like that? It would be the best birthday present ever.”

I slowly began to back away from their conversation, knowing I had tables that likely needed my attention. And quite frankly, I wanted to escape from this meeting with the dean. Maybe if I just slowly disappear, he won’t notice.

“Where are you going?” Theo’s hand went around my arm, and he shot me a look. “When do you get off work?”

“I–”

“What’s going on? Do you need to get off a little early, Claire?” Angie was prepared to lay out the red carpet for Theo even though I was shooting her a look that said, Save me. 

“We have a meeting with the dean. They screwed up the dorms, and Claire is apparently my new roommate, so we need to fix the problem.”

“What?” Angie snatched the tray out from under my arm. “Claire. Why didn’t you tell me? Go ahead. I’ll cover the rest of your tables. It’s almost time for your shift to be over anyway. You can still keep your tips, don’t worry.”

“Perfect.” Theo looked down at me, seeming pleased with himself.

I mumbled a thank you to Angie and quickly went to the back and grabbed my keys and phone, mentally preparing myself for the awkward meeting.

I was in the middle of relishing in the cool air against my sweaty skin as I came to an abrupt stop. Theo turned around with his keys dangling in his large hand, apparently waiting for me. “Do you need a ride?”

“I really don’t think I need to be present for this meeting,” I said instead of answering him. This time, my voice held a wealth of conviction in it.

Theo’s head tilted slightly as if he were trying to figure me out. “Why is it an issue? If it gets you into a different dorm room, who cares?”

I walked over to my car, leaving Theo standing behind me with his question lingering in the air around us. “Because I’ve already tried once to change rooms. What’s the point in trying again? It’s not going to make a difference if I’m there. You’re the one who is used to getting their way. Remember? You have pull in this school.”

Another smooth chuckle left his mouth, and I centered in on his lips before looking away and putting my key into my car door and opening it. The creak of my hinges cut through the tension, and I breathed out through my nose, trying to calm down. Theo said nothing as he watched me climb into my crappy Toyota.

“Are you done with your fit?” he asked, putting one arm on top of my car and his other on the door. He leaned down and raised his eyebrows at me, waiting for my answer.

My car rumbled to life, and I nodded curtly, tucking a loose hair from my ponytail behind my ear. He tapped the top of my car twice before winking. “Good. I’ll follow you. You know where the dean’s office is, yeah?”

“Mmhm,” I said before he shut my door.

 I glanced in my mirror and watched as he jogged back to his car, which, surprisingly, wasn’t some hot rod. It wasn’t nearly as old as my car, but it wasn’t anything spectacular either.

Unfurrowing my brows, I pulled out of my parking spot and prepared myself for the absolute and utter embarrassment that would soon follow after walking into Dean Chiffon’s office and coming face to face with him again.