When Hunter drops me off at home after Moes, I'm only alone for fifteen minutes before Caleb pulls into my driveway. He took Tristan home, and I think (at least, I hope), he went home to shower and change before tonight. Hunter and Tyler each have a short answer essay due tonight for their English class, and Will doesn't have his license or a car, so they aren't going to come for a bit, but Caleb is here, which means we'll have plenty of fun while waiting for them.

I open the door for him before he can knock even though I'm in a towel and just about to shower. He steps inside with his backpack hung over his left shoulder and his keys in his hand. "Is Shelia home?" He asks. "I didn't see her car."

Shaking my head and closing the front door behind him, I tighten my hold on the towel and lead him into the kitchen. "No, she had a hair appointment and then some errands to run. She'll probably be home in an hour."

Caleb flashes a grin my way. "Excellent." And out of his bag he pulls a handle of vodka. "How about we get this party started?"

I can only imagine how my eyes light up when I see the alcohol. "You magnificent man!" I laugh, clumsily throwing one arm around him in a hug while trying not to lose my towel. "I fucking love you, bro."

He laughs, wrinkling his nose as he pats my shoulder delicately. "Ew, you smell. Go shower."

"Don't drink it all without me," I call, rushing out of the room and toward my bathroom. He laughs behind me, and I hear him set his bag down on the stool beside the one he pulls out.

"Be quick!"

And with everything I have to do, I am pretty quick. I have to shave, which takes up a few extra minutes, but other than that I'm out of the shower just under twenty minutes later. Piling my hair into my towel and twisting it until it remains up on its own, I make my way back into the kitchen in baggy shorts and a zip up hoodie. Caleb, who has the tv on and pizza rolls heating in the microwave, the greedy fucker, doesn't bat an eye at my wardrobe; at this point, he knows better than to think I'm wearing this out and instead am just wearing this until I get ready.

"Why are you cooking my food?" I demand, reaching past Caleb on the counter for the vodka. If he broke into it already, he didn't take much, because the bottle is still almost full. "Didn't we just eat?"

Caleb shrugs. "I was hungry and bored. Besides, who are you to say that. Aren't you always hungry?"

Scoffing, I shrug. "I mean, yes. Are some of those for me?" I ask, standing on my tip toes so I can peer into the small window. There's a lot on the plate. Dropping back down to flat footing, I turn back to Caleb as I unscrew the lid. When its loose, I try to flick it off, but it just spins two, three times before slowing, and I frown down at it. "Wow. That was a disappointment."

He laughs. "Give me that. I'll show you how to do it." Taking the bottle when I reluctantly hand it over, he unscrews the lid until it just rests on the top, then flicks it so it goes flying. He smiles smugly before taking a swig and passing it back. "I can only do that because I spent the whole time you were in the shower practicing."

I shake my head and laugh. "Of course you did." Now I take a sip, grimacing only partly at the taste, which I'm pretty used to and will be plenty used to by the end of the night. "Did you make enough pizza rolls for me, too?" I repeat, settling the vodka back down and leaning against the counter.

"Of course." His usual dramatic flare makes the words take on an offended tone. "How rude do you think I am to not make food for my host? Besides, I know you dumbass. You'd eat a whole thanksgiving meal right after lunch if you could."

A smile tugs at my lips. "Yeah, I definitely would."

He pulls out the pizza rolls when they're all done in another minute. Together, we sit at the counter, the plate between us and the bottle of vodka being passed back and forth, chatting about anything and everything, letting the conversation move naturally. Our friendship has always come easy. I've known Will and Tyler for practically my whole life, and there are times we fight like siblings. My friendship with Hunter is... complicated, to say the least. At least, it is on my end.

But Caleb and I have been pals for what feels like forever, even though its been far less than that. He met Tyler and Hunter while Will and I were still in elementary school and the three of them were in middle school. When Will and I started the sixth grade, Caleb was already implanted into our group. He was just as much of a brat then as he is now- and I mean that as endearingly as possible- and made a habit of teasing Tyler and Hunter. A particularly rough joke aimed at Hunter, who didn't seem to care all that much but wasn't laughing all that hard either, pissed me off enough to punch Caleb right in the face. I had anger issues even then, and I had always wanted to get in a fight to see if I'd win, and while the punch didn't actually lead to a fight, it did lead to the beginning of a life long friendship.

I returned from out of school suspension a few days later only to find another friend on my side, declaring that I was tough enough and crazy enough to last on an all boys hockey team.

Ever since, we've had each other's backs. I'd go to war for any of my friends, and quite frankly I have gotten into some kind of argument or fight with someone for Tyler, Hunter, Will, and Caleb. It practically cements the friendship. But knowing that Caleb is just as willing to fight for me makes any potential punishments far less harsh and far more worth it.

By the time we've eaten the whole plate of pizza rolls, splitting them up as evenly as possibly including me taking a bite of the last and giving him the other half, about a third of the vodka is gone. It's just past seven and we're already pregaming.

Sighing after one last sip, Caleb screws the lid on. "We should probably save the rest of this for later. Don't want to blow it all before the guys else gets here."

I pout. "Yeah, okay." The towel that had been wrapped around my hair has loosened considerably, so I pull the towel off and hang it around my neck. "I'm going to go blow dry my hair. Wanna come?"

He nods, standing as I do and tossing out the paper plate in the trash. Taking his bag too, he slips the bottle into the main pocket, and I get a very quick peek of the box of beer and a second handle of vodka, this twice as large.

Whistling to the best of my abilities, I lead Caleb into my room where he stashes the bag and jumps onto my bed as I plug in my blow dryer. "You came prepared."

Chuckling, Caleb sets his hands behind his head and watches me sit at my desk and turn on the blow dryer. "Well, there are four of us who are drinking. And I don't know about you, but its been awhile since we went out, and it'll probably be awhile before we can go out again. So we might as well go balls to the fucking wall."

"I very much like that idea." Reaching for the small handheld speaker on the corner of my desk, I toss it to Caleb. "Play something good, please."

He powers on the speaker and waits for his phone to connect. My hair can take a while to dry, even with a blow dryer, so I start immediately. Better to be ready early than have everyone show up and be waiting on me to finish.

"So, you and new blood made up." It's a statement, not a question, and he slips it so casually into the silence that I almost miss it. However, some part of me knew he was going to ask this at some point today, and what better time then when we are alone? Besides, the way a frown instantly graces my face at his words, even before I truly understand what he's saying, speaks volumes. Even subconsciously, the guy pisses me off.

"He apologized and said lets try to put it behind us. I didn't argue, so if you want to call that making up, be my guest."

Caleb laughs. A song starts blaring, and he turns the volume down immediately until its at a bearable volume where we can still talk "That's it? That's all you had to say? There looked to be more to the conversation than that."

I shrug, trying to remain cool and fight the frustration that's already building. "He gave me the same bullshit excuse about not expecting a girl to play on the guy's team. And then he said he didn't want there to be issues between us. Honestly, I think he was feeling intimidated by you guys and how we're always hanging out together."

Snorting to himself, Caleb tosses the speaker up with one hand and catches it with the other. "Oh trust me, we aren't the ones he's intimidated by." From the corner of my eye, I see him fidgeting. I turn to look at him, and he flips onto his side to meet my gaze. "It's kind of odd, honestly. For someone who really enjoys pushing your buttons, he seems strangely adverse to bothering you." He pauses, mulling over his thoughts. "Or should I said he enjoyed pushing your buttons. As in past tense, now that you're friends and all."

I scowl, glaring over at him as I ruffle my hair and run a brush through it. Still fucking damp. "First off, we aren't friends. I said I would give him a clean slate, but that's it. Second, if he's so intimidated by me then why does he always try to pick fights? Or at least why does he continue the fights that I start? And third, he doesn't seem at all adverse to bothering me, you dumb fuck."

Caleb watches me carefully. "Ali, I love you, but you start nearly every fight you get in, both verbal and physical. You know that, too, so don't play the victim here, okay?" My frown deepens, as does my glare, but he's right, so I don't argue. "And, it seems to me as if he lets his temper and his ego make snap decisions for him. When he's being rational, he wants no part in fighting with you. But when he's angry, or his pride is wounded, he doesn't seem to think before reacting." Yeah, that's what Hunter thinks too. "Sound like someone we know?"

Stubbornly, I turn away and face my mirror again. The hair on the right side of my head is starting to dry a bit, mostly on the bottom, and I'm already tired of holding this blow dryer. If only Caleb could do it for me. He would if I asked, but I'm not sure I don't trust him to not burn me or my hair on accident. "No, because I think impulsively all the time, even when I'm not angry, so ha."

"Oh, I'm so glad you're proud of that." He says dryly before sighing. "Anyway, just thought you should know." Then, with a subject change so sudden I think I have mental whiplash, he asks, "How has Hunter seemed to you?"

My hand pauses in its up and down movement. "Hunter? Fine, why?"

He shrugs. "It's almost time for their one year anniversary. Well, two and a half, if they stuck it out the first time, but you know what I mean. I just didn't know if he's talked with you about it."

For a moment, I just sit there and blink. Then, I turn the blow dryer off and set it down, turning yet again to face Caleb as I do. "Shit. You're right." I had forgotten that they first started dating in November.

Caleb nods. "He hasn't talked about her at all in... god, maybe a month? The last time he mentioned her was the announcement that the cheer team did well at competition, and even that was just to say he knew she would be excited." He stares down at his hands. "It's just weird that he doesn't talk about her. I mean, at all. Not even when they broke up broke up."

I don't say anything now, because Hunter actually did talk to me then. That night, just two hours after their anniversary dinner was supposed to take place, he came over to my house when he found out that his on again off again girlfriend of two years cheated on him for real. He was so upset I was actually concerned that he had been driving, and I refused to let him leave later that night, so he stayed in a guest room.

All that night, and for most of the next day, we holed up in my house, eating homemade mac and cheese from Sheila, and talked through everything. There were emotions I didn't even know Hunter had that came spilling out into the open. And while he has opened up to me before about many different things, there had never quite been a moment as hard as seeing him sobbing on my bedroom floor over a girl who screwed him over so many times even my petty ass had lost count.

I've never felt so murderous in my entire life.

"It's just easier for him that way." I say quietly. "There will always be things that make him think of her, dates that are hard, memories that sting. If he drags up the negative emotions every time, he'll never move on." At least, that's what I'm thinking. That's how I was and still am with my past break ups. Reminiscing the good or bad parts never helps anything.

But I make a mental note to talk to him about it anyway.

"Turn the volume up," I say, turning the blow dryer back on and getting back to work on drying it. "I like this song."

Caleb does, and we transition back to the light, fun side of things easily.

* * *

Sheila comes home later than expected, and her reason is made evident when she brandishes the reusable bag of groceries and boasts, "Guess who found scallops on sale?" Then, only after she already set the bag down proudly in front of me, she notices Caleb sitting beside me at the counter. Once she texted me saying she was on her way home, we came back out here and left the alcohol in my room and out of sight. She and my dad don't mind when I go out with friends, but I don't think she'd like know about all the beer and vodka Caleb bought with his fake ID. "Oh, Caleb! What a pleasant surprise. How are you, hun?"

He grins. "I'm great, Sheila, how are you?"

She smiles fondly across the counter at him as she stashes her purse on the kitchen table and begins putting away groceries. "Wonderful. If I had known you were coming, I would've whipped something up earlier for you two to eat. But instead I'm a terrible step mom and put aside some leftovers for Ali to eat." Even though she and my dad aren't married, she's been in my life for so many years and has helped my father raise me. We established years ago that she is my step mother, just to clear up any confusion between us.

I roll my eyes. "Stop! I told you that would be fine. Besides, we went to Moes after practice and then just had pizza rolls too."

"Okay good." She smiles again, putting the seafood and other items that go in the fridge away. "Well, you know you're always welcome to join us for dinner."

"Thanks, Sheila." Caleb charmed my step mother ages ago, way back when she first met him and his parents at Hunter's birthday party back when we were all kids. Ever since, he has basically been her son, just as Tyler, Will, and Hunter are all her surrogate children. As if I'm not enough of a handful, she's stuck with my friends too, but she always says she wouldn't have it any other way.

I take the break in the conversation as my chance to tell her about tonight. "Hunter, Tyler and Will are coming over in a bit. I think we might go to Greg's, because he's having a few people over, but we might just stay in and watch a movie." Of course, the thinking bit was over within milliseconds earlier today, but if I appear uncertain of my plans Sheila is less likely to say no. Not that I think she would, but you never know. "Either way, is it okay if they all spend the night?"

If I hadn't asked her hundreds of times before, and if she didn't always answer with 'Of course! They're always welcome', then perhaps I would've asked before offering up my house as home base for this evening, but I already knew she'd be okay with it. When I say my parents love my friends, I mean they often favor them over me.

"Of course they can! You know they're always welcome."

I smile, feeling incredibly fond of my step mother. I never started calling her Mom, not when I met her at the age where I asked my father everything possible about my actual mother, but she has been around for nearly my whole life. She raised me just as much as my father did, even more during times when he was especially busy with traveling, and I love her to pieces. "Thanks." Then I remember that it's not just the usual four coming over. "Someone else is coming over too."

At this, she pauses. "Really? Who? Is it anyone I'd know?"

Shrugging, I say, "I doubt it. He's new this year. Moved from Canada."

She smiles over at me. "That's great! Do you think he'll make the team."

I have to fight to keep my expression from twisting. Thankfully, Caleb speaks up for me.

"We can't be sure, obviously, but I think so. He's pretty good, has a good attitude." Yeah, and I'm a fucking nun. "He'll be a good addition to the team."

"Great." She sighs. "Alright well, I'm going to go get ready for work. I have to leave in twenty minutes."

"Okay. By the way, your hair looks great." I add as my gaze sweeps across her head. She just got a trim, and her highlights were topped off I think, but for the most part its the same style as before.

"Thanks, hun." She kisses both of our foreheads before going into her room.

As the door closes behind her, Caleb turns to face me. "I love her. She's, like, mom goals."

I laugh. "I know."

* * * 

When the other guys arrive sometime after Sheila leaves, I realize two things as soon as I open the door.

First, I assumed when Hunter said we would pick Tristan up, he meant we all would pick him up and head right to the party. But no, he grabbed him on the way here, and he stands right behind Hunter as Tyler and Will pull in at that moment. It doesn't make a difference, really, but I was still surprised enough to hesitate before smiling. The smile isn't forced, exactly, but it does feel a little wobbly. I'm not used to having to try or put on a show around people, especially those my age, especially with friends. But even trying a fresh start with Tristan is a little weird.

The second thing is that, with Tristan being here at my house, he's going to learn a bit more about me than I wanted, mostly that my father is Drew Wilson, star center for the New York Rangers. Most of the guys on the team already know or will find out come season when my father comes to every single hockey game and they all clammer over each other for autographs and pictures, but I didn't think about Tristan finding out tonight.

As soon as he steps into my house, though, he sees my dad's framed jersey with his name on the back. Tristan recognizes it immediately and starts to comment on it before noticing everything else: "Oh wow, you have a Wilson jersey-" He stops cold, staring at the multiple picture frames hanging on the walls with me, Sheila, and my dad as the main subjects. "Holy shit."

Grimacing, I wait until Tyler and Will slip inside before shutting the door. I don't say anything, deeming it better to let him blow off steam before trying to speak. Usually, people who know hockey flip their shit and go on long tangents about how they had no idea and how they couldn't believe I didn't tell them and how crazy it was that my father was a famous professional hockey player. After a while, it gets exhausting.

But Tristan doesn't explode. He does stare the pictures for a long few seconds, and then he stares at me for another few seconds, but while he can't quite shut his jaw, he doesn't lose his mind either.

I didn't realize how grateful I would be for a break from the wild reactions until I see his relatively low key one.

"I- uh- I didn't realize..."

Nodding my head, I'm quick to cut him off. "Yeah, he's, uh- my dad is Drew Wilson. No he's not here right now, but yes you'll meet him. He goes to all of our games."

Tristan blinks. "Wow. Really?" Well, he is my dad. Plenty of the guys flip when they first realize he will see them play. "Even my parents can't make all my games, and they don't travel for work."

That, again, was a much more mild reaction than I expected.

"Yeah, well when I was younger and he was taking a break from the league to spend time with me, he would go to all my games, take me to and from practices. Then he started playing again, and he made it a priority to still come to my games. Once in a blue moon, he can't make one, but my step mom always comes then."

We're all still standing right by the door, and after one last lingering look of surprise toward Tristan, I turn my back and wave everyone closer into the house. "Come on, Caleb brought alcohol. Someone can take aux. Will, come help me get ready." Caleb settles back onto his stool with Hunter right beside him. Tyler hops onto the counter with his feet swinging.

Tristan stands awkwardly, looking around before pulling out a chair at the table and sitting just behind Caleb, who spins in his seat to look at him.

They're all dressed and ready to go, but the party doesn't start until nine and its not even eight thirty yet. Each are wearing tan shorts or jeans and some type of shirt. Tyler is in a white tank top and a black zip up hoodie. Caleb and Hunter are both wearing rather tight T-shirts, a red and a black, and Tristan is wearing a navy button up short sleeve. Will gets cold easily, so he's in a long sleeve tournament shirt, and his hair is brushed and gelled back.

"Alright I'm coming, but first-" He reaches past his brother for the handle of vodka that Caleb has pulled out of his backpack. Unscrewing the top, he takes a long swing with our convoluted cheers as background noise. "Let's fucking go."

I'm laughing so hard he has to tug at my arm to lead me away. "Holy shit Will. I want to see that again."

Will flashes me a grin. "How about you get dressed and then we can both do it."

I throw my arm around his shoulders. "That sounds like a wonderful plan."

He laughs. My door closes behind us, and he rounds on me immediately. "Okay tell me about earlier. Are you and Tristan actually going to be friends."

When will my drama stop being the most asked about topic in our friendship group?

"We're going to try, I guess." Opening my closet, I peer in at my clothes. "It's too cold for a dress. Jeans and a tank?"

"Sounds good to me." Dropping onto my bed, Will watches me pull out my favorite light wash jeans and toss them behind me onto my mattress. "What did Hunter tell you in the car? You had such a different viewpoint after driving with him."

Sighing, I slip out of my shorts and struggle into my pants. I'm not quite tipsy, but skinny jeans are hard enough to get on without a few sips of vodka in your system. "He said to stop looking at everything as black and white. There's a sliding scale. I don't have to be on one side of the extreme, and I don't have to hate someone for one meeting. So I'm just... going to try and have an open mind, I guess."

"Okay, good. That's a great idea. I'm glad to hear that." Will lays back to look at my ceiling, but probably not out of a privacy concern. I've known Will and Tyler for so many years, from our toddler ages when sharing a bath wasn't considered weird or inappropriate, up until our first few high school parties where we got piss fucking drunk to the point where I couldn't pee on my own or even get out of my dress. The last thing I'm worried about is Will getting a peak of my ass, and he knows it. "Do you actually think it will work? Not that I doubt you, or anything, but you're not exactly known for your emotional control."

With one final tug and a hop, I get the jeans on and button them up. If these didn't make my legs look so good, I would throw them out. "I honestly don't know. Tristan is supposed to be trying too, so that should make it... easier. I guess. I don't know, we'll see. Just don't go too far tonight in case Drunk Ali feels like starting a fight."

Will laughs. "Okay, I won't."

"How's this?" I pull a strapless maroon crop top that has a single pink strip out of my closet. "Or I have the black lace one."

"The black one will make your tits look better." Will rolls onto his side to watch me. "But that one shows more skin. Both are sexy in their own right."

"Hmm." I open my door and poke my head out to call out to the rest of our friends. "Which is better, skin or tits?"

After a short pause, Tyler asks, "What kinda skin?"

Caleb doesn't wait for my answer. "How about tits and skin? Just show off your tits."

"Fuck off, Caleb!" I shout. A second later, Tyler and Hunter appear in the hallway, watching with interest as I stride toward them with a top in each hand. "Alright, assholes, pick one."

Will picks first. "Black."

Tyler looks at both before agreeing with his brother. Caleb is adamant about showing off both my skin and my tits, so I ignore him for the moment. Tristan doesn't seem like he's going to answer, until at the last moment he says black too. Hunter answers last, and even though majority has already decided for me, I wait for his answer (which is black, too) before nodding and disappearing back into my room.

With the right bra, this shirt does make my already lacking boobs look better. I somewhat have an ass, more just from squats and my speed lifting than anything, and while my stomach is toned from the hundreds of ab workouts I've done, I am part of the itty bitty titty committee and am as straight as a goddamn board. Once, I was too embarrassed to wear tops that revealed so much of my body until I realized that skin is skin and anyone who made a comment about my lack of curves or my small boobs would shut up very quickly once I threatened to punch them.

Besides, most guys- and girls who swing that way- aren't picky in the kind of revealing clothes you wear. At this point, if I feel good in something, chances are I won't care what others think.

When I'm finally dressed and I've ran a brush through my straightened hair one last time, I slip my feet into my black heeled booties and follow Will back into the kitchen. The boys have already filled some cups with vodka, four for the four of us that are drinking, and I'm quick to take one. "Here's to the end of Hell Week and to the start of one hella good season!" Caleb boasts, tipping his cup in our direction before downing his in one go.

Will, Tyler and I do the same.

AN: happy new year! first update of 2021 and im sitting in my laundry room w my dog cowering in the corner bc she is petrified of fireworks. not the way i expected to spend nye but it is what it is. 

I will be back to school so very soon thankfully and will have ten days of no class just lax with my best friends and I! AM! STOKED! hopefully i can write during those days bc this semester will be hella busy and otherwise you prob won't hear from me again until the summer. i should've saved more of these updates for over the spring semester but oh well i was impatient.

anyway!! i hope you enjoy. pls vote and comment!

much love

soph