summary: when you are in need of a plus one the man you were desperate to avoid ends up in that place.
request: yes/no
warnings: swearing, underage drinking.
word count: 3.59k
authors note: I can’t believe how long this took me to write because I’ve had such a busy week yet I’m glad we now have this bad boy to show for it!
You truly didn’t think that this was going to be that hard.
“C’mon Gabe please!”
He couldn’t help but look at you with pure pity as there was nothing that he could do to help you “I’m real sorry Belle but I really can’t.” He had started calling you that after you got the lead role in the winter showcase musical, beauty and the beast. Yet you couldn’t help but send him a glare in response as he already had plans for that long weekend.
In a moment of silence you swore that a lightbulb came over his head “Will!” You swore you had never been happier to read your best friends mind “don’t you dare!” But as you yelled that “you wanna go to Cabo?” Left Gabe’s lips at the same time.
The blonde pulled his headphone out of his ear as he furrowed his eyebrows “look dude if this is because my parents are-” Will went to turn him down yet instead he was cut off “no you see y/n over here needs a plus one to Cabo and I can’t go.” Gabe flashed his signature grin as he brushed his fingers through his hair.
Will looked between you both trying to figure out why your cheeks turned red as you waited for his rejection “what do I have to do?” Will sent you a smile as he crossed his arms still skeptical “not a lot-” you tried to sugarcoat it but with Gabe there it was never going to work “be her fake boyfriend for the week.” You knew he had a good way with words but you were ultimately left jealous at how he made it seem like honey was flowing from his lips as he spoke to you.
You got embarrassed as you cringed thinking about him saying no “want to hear her ask me.” Gabe scoffed as he watched you stay quiet “I’m not that-” you grunted feeling your best friend elbow you in the ribcage.
It had been a little over four weeks since you had spoken to Will properly “will you do me a real one and come to Cabo and act like my boyfriend for a week?” You grumbled making the boy smile “let me know what time you need me at the airport.” Will nodded shoving his AirPod back into his ear before he left.
Gabe grinned as he looked back at you “oh don’t even.” You scoffed as you rolled your eyes hitting his shoulder with yours as he wrapped his arm around you guiding you out of the arena.
The sound of music blared through speakers as the party roared after a big hockey team win “y’know you’re a fucking beaut.” Will moaned running his fingers through your hair “you’re a dangerous, dangerous man.” You clicked your tongue feeling his lips nip at your neck.
Will smiled as he watched you giggle when he looked at you “I want to kiss you.” Will confessed as your lips looked plump under the dimmed led lights “do it then.” You gasped as the liquor you had drank went to your head the moment you felt his lips on yours.
His hands were messy through your hair and the taste of beer on his tongue sent you for a spin “fuck you’re gorgeous.” He mumbled to himself as he picked you up forcing you onto the kitchen counter as he stood between your thighs.
You were quickly pulled from your memories as Will sat in the seat next to you “so what are you thinking about?” Detroit airport was busy as you both sat in the boarding area as you waited to board the second of two flights.
It made you jump as you turned to face him “just my sisters.” You lied through your teeth “multiple?” Will not noting your lie made you breathe out a sigh of relief.
You nodded as you tucked your hair behind your ear “you’ve got Kacey and Mary then me.” You explained counting off your fingers “but then Kyle my brother is the eldest.” Most people truly thought that you were an only child and Will was no different.
Will just nodded as he smiled “so I take it you’re the favourite?” His curiousness made a grin form on your lips “yes because the child with an art degree in a family of doctors and lawyers is the definition of favourite.” It made his lips form a sharp line as he realised what you meant.
And as he thought about it longer he remembered that when Gabe dragged the boys along to every night of the fall musical. Your parents were nowhere in sight for any of them “I’m sorry.” The boy was quick to apologise as you raised your hand to stop him “figured if I had a boyfriend along for the trip then maybe my parents wouldn’t look at my bad sides for once.” At one point you had been single for so long that your parents began to assume that you were either lesbian or ready to die alone.
Will frowned as he squeezed your hand enjoying the first civil conversation you two have had since that night at the party “then I promise to be the best fake boyfriend you could have ever asked for.” Will smiled as he held his hand out to you to hold.
His fingers were rough as your soft ones grazed his fingertips “thank you.” Your voice was barely a whisper as you nodded enjoying the moment of peace before the loud speaker began “please can we call all zone one members to board.” It made him look at his boarding pass as you both got up.
Cabo had been one of your favourite places in Mexico and as the wind and salty breeze ran through your hair “the house is just up the road.” Will called out as he looking the smile on your face “enjoying the ride?” You had made sure that the car you rented had a detachable roof for a reason.
You nodded as you turned the radio down seeing your parents holiday home “I’m sorry about them.” You apologised already preparing yourself for how you assumed your parents were already going to be on your tail “don’t apologise for anything you didn’t do Belle.” Will raised his hand to stop you as he stopped the car.
With a raised eyebrow you turned to him yet couldn’t say anything as the front door to the house opened “nice to see you show up squirt!” Kyle laughed as he dropped his surfboard seeing his younger sister “Kyle!” You groaned as you rolled your eyes watching the older boy practically run over to you.
Ever since you were a kid Kyle had been the one guy who knew you like the back of your hand. But with almost twelve years of age between you both it meant that you couldn’t really value the relationship before he left leaving your sisters to become your parents favourites.
Will smiled seeing you get pulled into a hug as he let out a laugh “and who is this?” Kyle looked up to see the blonde boy sat in the red convertible “Will is my boyfriend.” You explained lying through your teeth as your brother nodded along.
In that moment Will swore he had never been more intimidated in his life as Kyle stared him down “good to meet you.” Will coughed the words out as he held his hand out to be shook “think mom and dad are waiting for you in there.” Kyle sent the younger boy a nod before he turned back to the door.
The hockey player frowned as he shut the door to his side of the car “he’s friendly.” Will sarcastically spoke as he shook his head “he’s just protective.” You corrected him following the boys lead to the trunk needing your suitcases “and you’re the first guy I’ve brought to meet my family so cheer up buttercup.” You giggled patting his chest as you left him stood by the car as you walked into the house lugging your wheely case behind you.
Will let your message echo in his ears all the way until he ended up sat in a high stakes interrogation with your family “so you play hockey?” Kacey cocked her head as she crossed her arms “yeah I do.” Will nodded along as his arm comfortably slotted behind you resting on the chair.
It made your mom scoff “mom.” You warned sending her a glare as you didn’t want her to start “no I just think that you could do better than someone who shoots pucks for a living.” She sipped on her rosé like it was like it was water sliding through her throat either way ease.
You tensed feeling your body cringe at her words “mom!” You brought your hands to your head as you pushed your hair out of your face “no I get what you mean.” Will caught you by surprise as you turned to see where he was going with it.
Truthfully it seemed like he was in the same position as he let his hand move to your barely covered thigh as the denim of your shorts were barely three inches over your thighs “honestly I never thought I’d get a girl as great as she is and let alone keep her.” The blonde shrugged as he smiled staring into your eyes as it made your cheeks turn red.
Mary smiled hearing her parents go silent over that answer “so how is it that you two met?” His thumb grazed the inside of your thigh.
“Library.”
“Class.”
Your eyes grew wide hearing how different your answer was to his “she thinks it was during our class we started taking last semester.” Will corrected himself as he smiled “but I kept on seeing this pretty girl in the library every other night that I began to fall in love with.” Your body felt like it was burning as you tried to keep your composure.
The screens you grew up watching were full of a love you hoped to experience with a man of your dreams. Yet instead your head felt like it was about to explode “you okay?” Will’s voice was barely a whisper as you scoffed back the rest of your drink trying to compose yourself.
His concern made your mind feel at ease as you nodded “just hot in here.” You lied hoping that it would be enough to make him believe you.
Luckily for you your parents interrogations finally stopped as dinner rolled to an end and you were left with Will hot on your tail as you headed to your room. He knew your parents were tough on you but he never expected it to be as bad as it truly was “you know you don’t have to run away from me.” Will mumbled letting the door shut behind him.
It made you sigh as you dropped your phone onto the bed “I really thought that they would have been different.” You sighed still wanting to crawl into the hole that you wished to be in at that table “look I get if you want to go home and I don’t blame you.” You added sitting on the bed as you placed your head in your hands.
The hockey player felt bad as he began to pity you “I’d like to say that I’m a better boyfriend than that.” Will smiled as he sat next to you “and besides it’s kind of fun pissing your mom off.” He added making you let out a snort.
Will grinned as he watched you turn to face him “there’s your smile.” It made the room feel lighter as he could finally breathe “god I was an idiot to think that a guy could make them treat me like I was normal.” You frowned resting your head on his shoulder as he squeezed your side.
The two of you sat there for a moment until you sighed “you’re not normal.” Will mumbled looking down to see you already looking back up at him “excuse me?” It made you furrow your eyebrows as you swore he was trying to get himself in trouble.
Panic set in the boys mind as he gulped “I just meant that you are great and deserve so much more than normal.” The words rolled off of his tongue like honey as you swore you were about to turn into putty “I think I’m gonna go shower.” You announced getting up as you left the boy on the queen size bed.
You two seemed to work in this rotation where the moment you left the bathroom he was in it and by the time he came out you were already in bed. Will’s gaze softened as he saw the blankets layered over you as the ac was on full blast “you can move closer to the middle Belle.” He pointed out plugging his phone in to charge for the night.
A huff left your lips as you rolled over to look at him “you better not snore.” You warned letting your eyes go wide “or sleep talk!” The way you emphasised on the latter made him laugh “who do you know that sleep talks?” Will was halfway into bed at that point as curiosity got the best of him.
“Gabe.”
Without any explanation he broke out into a giggle “I knew it was him on the bus!” The blonde shook his head as the brunette had tried to wriggle his way out of the accusations on so many occasions.
The two of you went quiet as you smiled “to answer your question I don’t snore or sleep talk.” Will confessed as he let his fingers run over the soft edges of the silk sheet that lay over his body “I’m glad to hear that.” You nodded as you smiled going to sleep as you let out a yawn.
The next morning came and when Will woke up you were gone. Well sort of.
You’d made your way to the beach for a morning swim and were now showering as you washed away the salty water. He knew it was wrong to stare through the opened crack of the door yet somehow he couldn’t help but do it as he watched your hands run through your wet hair letting the remainder of your conditioner run to the drain.
It made his cock grow decidedly uncomfortable as his teeth ran over his lip “fuck me.” He muttered shaking his head as he memorised how the curve of your ass looked with nothing else on it. Unfortunately for Will a buzz came from your phone and he stupidly went to look at it.
Bubs 🤭💓: you should have brought me, we’d have fun
Will knew he had brought the newfound wave of jealousy on himself yet that didn’t make it any easier to swallow as the reality hit him. You had someone in your life. Someone who made you feel the way that you do clearly deserved. And it wasn’t even him.
So the hockey player swore he was an idiot as he sat there contemplating why you could have been cruel enough to ask him to be your plus one if you so clearly had someone else in your mind “hey Will!” You smiled with the towel wrapped around your body walking into the room to as you pushed your wet hair out of your face.
The boy had to push his emotions aside as he dropped your phone back onto the bed making it look like nothing had happened “if you want to go play a round of golf later my dad has a tee time for us.” You proposed knowing that the boy enjoyed playing “just for us so we can get some quiet.” The latter parts of your sentence were quieter as a devilish smirk formed on your face.
All he could do was nod “if that’s what you want.” Will grumbled as he got up letting the sheet fall to your bed “I’m asking you what you want.” You pointed out as you raised your eyebrows surprised by the way he was talking to you.
Will rolled his eyes “all I want to do is just have a shower right now.” He quipped back choosing to avoid the truth as it only irritated more than you couldn’t notice it “do you have a problem with that?” His voice was sharp as he sent you a glare waiting to hear what he assumed to be further lies from your lips.
Yet instead you shook your head feeling your body turn bare as his gaze hardened on your collarbones “none.” Your lips popped as you let out a sigh watching him push past you before he shut the bathroom door.
Most men were never good at announcing their emotions. Boys on the other hand felt that struggle as an additional to the fact that they also most times couldn’t even understand their own emotions. As Will kept his lips shut all the way until you got to the fifteenth hole where the clubhouse was calling for a pit stop.
You struggled to keep up with him as his long strides and your constant attempts at getting him to talk made you feel like you were talking to a brick wall. Will brushed you off like you were nothing until you finally had enough “look dude if you want to act like I’m not here anymore then could you at least time me what I did?” You grunted pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration.
Your putter dropped to the ground “what makes you think it was something you did?” It was the first words the boy muttered to you since your bedroom “why else would you shut me out?” You crossed your arms letting your tanned skin push your breasts up against the polo that was clearly tight on you.
His silence made you fear the worst “did you think that I was just never gonna find out that you had a boyfriend.” His words made you freeze as a giggle slipped from your lips “and now you think that this is fucking funny don’t ya?” Will scoffed as he shook his head sharpening his gaze at you.
It turned to a glare as you grew defensive “why the fuck would I bring along a guy that wasn’t my boyfriend if I was with someone?” You pointed out trying to figure out where his logic came from “that’s what I’m trying to figure out!” By now the two of you were stood by your golf cart silently grateful that there were no groups behind you.
Your chest heaved as he took a step closer to you “so why don’t you just go tell that Bubs of yours that you want them out here on the next flight out and I’ll go home.” His offer made the pieces of his anger fall into place for you “Bubs is fucking Matthew you absolutely dickhead.” Matthew was a guy in your degree that you met during orientation, he was also openly gay.
Which therefore left Will panicking as he went to apologise to you but instead you cut him off “and besides I don’t think you get to be jealous when you stick your tongue down anything that breathes.” You shot back still irritated by his outburst now hinting back to that night at the party.
You had gotten caught up in a conversation with Ryan as you were rested up against the wall behind you “you want another drink doll?” The compliments dropped from his lips like honey “I’m good thanks.” You shook your head as you sent him a smile.
However it was quickly dropped when you saw the event behind him. Will had some girls hand through his hair as she nipped at his neck “actually I do.” You nodded growing irritated as the boy looked to you with a smirk on his face.
Ryan didn’t question your change of as he took your hand in his and led you to the kitchen “think you should find someone else.” Will announced pushing the girl off from his lap as she scoffed in response.
The blonde frowned as you left from his vision “she clearly doesn’t want you.” The girl pointed out, still irritated by his actions “doesn’t mean I don’t want her.” Will was quick to shoot back as he sent the girl a glare deciding that he had enough of her as he got up wanting to find his teammates instead.
Will scoffed as he grumbled to himself “Ryan needs to stop thinking you’re hot.” The hockey player pointed out as he ran his fingers over your shirt “so he thinks I’m hot?” You giggled feeling your cheeks turn red.
It made the blonde tense “everyone does doll.” Will nodded relaxing as your hands snaked around his neck “then they’re all gonna hate this.” Your voice was barely above a whisper as you leaned forward to kiss his lips.
The hockey player made sure that he was close enough to you that he could indeed enjoy the feeling of your lips on his as he practically didn’t want to lose you. Spring break might have ended three days after that but it was clear that it was the start of your relationship with Will.
I have finished City of Glass, which means that I am at the point in my TMI + Malec extras reread when I can start The Red Scrolls of Magic!! I’m not nervous, you’re nervous!!
Freya spent most of the walk to her first college class pretending her heart wasn’t racing as hard as it did in the last minute of a tied game.
Conte had been easy. Ice always was. She knew where her edges were there.
Gonzaga to Saint Mary's Hall building, though—backpack straps digging into her shoulders, sneakers instead of skates, sun instead of rink lights—that felt like stepping into an entirely different league.
She’d memorized the campus map on her phone anyway, the way she used to memorize plays. COMM 1020 - introductio n dto media studies, circled in her calendar, highlighted, underlined. Requirement for a lot of things, maybe the start of a major, definitely the easiest way to justify binging media studies videos in her free time.
She tugged her headphones down around her neck as she cut across the quad. The bell tower chimed the hour. Freshmen streamed in every direction, nametags and lanyards and nerves.
Inside the lecture hall, rows of narrow desks cascaded down to a whiteboard. The room hummed with first‑week energy: someone comparing schedules, someone else trying to figure out how to connect to the Wi‑Fi.
Freya paused at the back, scanning for a seat. The top rows were already full of clusters that looked like they’d come straight from the same orientation group. No sign of any familiar faces.
And then she spotted him. Mid‑row, center of the room: Will Smith in a BC hoodie, coffee cup parked on the tiny fold‑out desk, talking with two guys who wore the “hockey walk” like a second skin. Right‑side winger posture. Lanky, half‑slouch, legs sprawled like chairs were just suggestions.
Of course he was here.
She shouldn’t have been surprised. Communication was one of the go‑to routes for players with any media attention, and she’d watched enough interviews to know Will was good with a mic. But knowing it in theory and seeing him in a crowded lecture hall were different things.
He looked up as if he’d felt her staring. Their eyes met across the room. His mouth twitched into an almost‑guilty grin.
Freya exhaled, amusement loosening something in her chest. Fine. If the universe wanted to recycle characters, she could work with that.
The only empty seats in that row were the ones on either side of Will’s friend on the aisle. She took the steps down two at a time and stopped beside them.
“You’re everywhere,” she said, tipping her chin at Will.
He blinked, then laughed under his breath. “You followed me here.”
The dark‑haired guy by the aisle looked between them, confused but curious. The blond on her other side—cap backward, grin ready—was already half leaning around Will to see.
Freya nodded at the aisle guy. “Is this seat taken?”
“No,” he said quickly, tugging his bag off the desk. “Go ahead.”
She slid into the space between him and Will, backpack on the floor, notebook out. For a second, the three boys just stared at her.
The blond recovered first. He stuck out a hand across Will, nearly knocking over the coffee.
“Ryan Leonard,” he said. “Leno or Ry."
“Freya,” she said, shaking his hand. “Sedin.”
The name landed like a dropped puck. Both boys flinched; they tried to hide it. It didn’t work.
“Yeah,” Leno said, eyes going a little too wide. “like the Canucks Sedin?”
“Yeah, please don’t make it weird,” she said, half amused, half resigned.
“I won’t,” he promised.
The other guy offered his hand more calmly. “Gabriel Perrault, or Gabe” he said.
She shook his hand too “Nice to meet you.”
The professor started talking at the front—syllabus, grading, attendance. Freya tried to split her attention between the slides and the three very noisy presences around her.
Will leaned closer, voice low. “You didn’t say you’d be in Comm.”
“You didn’t ask,” she replied.
He huffed. “Fair.”
On the slide, the professor pulled up the class roster, their names flashing briefly in columns. Freya caught “Smith, William,” “Leonard, Ryan,” “Perrault, Gabriel,” and, in the same block, “Sedin, Freya.” It felt strange to see the four of them lined up like that on something that wasn’t a lineup card.
“Most of you are still deciding your paths,” the professor said. “Some of you already think you know what you want. That’s fine. This course will be useful either way.”
Leno nudged her with his elbow. “You know your major yet?” he whispered.
“Not really,” she said. “This is me testing waters. Seeing if I can stand listening to people talk about media as much as I like watching it.”
Gabe arched a brow. “You like movies”
She hesitated. Saying it out loud always felt dorkier than it sounded in her head. “A little bit,” she said. “Enough to minor, probably.”
Will looked over, surprised. “Films?”
“Don’t sound so shocked,” she muttered. “We weren’t allowed to watch game tape all the time growing up.”
Leno’s face lit up. “Okay, that’s sick. So when we’re all old and washed up, you’ll direct the documentary about how we peaked at nineteen.”
“Sixteen,” Gabe corrected.
“Speak for yourself,” Will said.
Freya had to bite back a laugh. “You’re all insufferable,” she decided.
“Get used to it,” Leno said. “We’re stuck together now.”
He wasn’t wrong. When the professor pulled up the list of pre‑assigned semester groups, all four of their names appeared in the same bullet point.
Group 3: Smith – Leonard – Perrault – Sedin.
“Guess we’re teammates in here too,” Will murmured.
The professor asked them to “briefly introduce yourselves to your group.” The four of them half‑turned toward the middle of the row.
“Will,” he said. “ Hockey player. Lexington, Massachusetts. I like… winning faceoffs and not failing classes.”
“Leno,” Ryan said. “ Hockey player too, from Amherst. I like chirping and scoring goals.”
“Gabe,” Perrault added. “ Also hockey player. Born in Quebec but raised in Illinois. I like clean entries and colour‑coded notes.”
Three sets of eyes landed on her.
Freya tapped her pen against the desk. “Freya,” she said. “ Like all of you, I'm a hockey player. From Vancouver and Sweden. I like good movies, clean breakouts, and people who don’t make a huge deal about my last name.”
Leno held up two out of three fingers. “We can try.”
Gabe smiled. “Two is a start.”
After class, the hallway outside the lecture hall was a crush of bodies. The four of them spilled out together, somehow staying in the same little pocket of space.
“So,” Leno said, unable to help himself, “you two just knew each other already?”
“We met at Conte,” Freya said before Will could get weird. “He trespassed. I trespassed also.”
Will groaned. “It wasn’t trespassing. The door was… unlocked.”
“Closed sign still counts,” she said.
Will looks at her, "says you."
Gabe frowned. “Wait, is this the shootout story?”
Will’s silence was answer enough.
Freya took pity on him. “We skated,” she said. “He’s fine. Needs work on his fake, though.”
“Wow,” Leno breathed. “Our franchise guy got bagged by Sedin before orientation even started.”
“Ten–seven,” Freya added, because she was honest.
Gabe actually choked. “You took him for ten?”
“Can we not broadcast the exact score in the hallway?” Will muttered, ears red.
“It’s okay,” Freya said, nudging his shoulder with hers. “He’s teachable.”
Gabe watched the easy contact, the way she said it—teasing but not cruel. Whatever had happened on the ice, it hadn’t scared Will off. If anything, he seemed more grounded standing next to her.
They reached the doors and stepped out into the late‑summer haze. The path toward Gonzaga sloped gently away, brick and trees and too‑bright green.
“You in Upper or Newton?” Leno asked, already dreading the bus if she said Newton.
“Gonzaga,” she said. “Second floor.”
All three boys stopped walking.
Will blinked. “You’re in Gonzaga.”
She nodded. “214. Women’s hall.”
“We’re 314 and 316,” Gabe said slowly. “So we’re… literally stacked.”
“Guess I’m your upstairs neighbour,” she said. “Try not to slam doors at 2 a.m.”
“That’s absolutely going to be Ryan,” Will said.
Leno looked personally offended. “I am a delight.”
Freya raised an eyebrow. “We’ll see.”
They walked the rest of the way with that knowledge settling between them: same rink, same class, same building. It made BC feel smaller in a not‑bad way.
At the Gonzaga entrance, they paused.
“Group‑project meeting tonight?” Gabe asked. “Might as well get a head start before the season gets too crazy.”
“Lounge?” Will suggested. “Third floor?”
Freya thought about her half‑unpacked room upstairs—the ivy she’d already strung across the ceiling, the boxes of DVDs under her bed, the Canada jersey folded carefully in her drawer.
“Yeah,” she said. “Text me the time.”
Freya asks Leno for his phone for her to put her number for them to text her.
She swiped into the building and headed for the stairs. Halfway up, she looked back over the railing.
Will, Gabe, and Leno were still standing in the lobby, looking up at her like they’d just realised their roster had changed without anyone telling them.
“See you, boys,” she called. “Try not to get lost without me.”
“Bossy,” Will muttered, but he was smiling.
“Leader,” Gabe corrected.
“Terrifying,” Leno added happily.
Freya laughed, the sound bouncing off cinderblock and bulletin boards as she disappeared onto the second floor.
By that night, when she walked into the third‑floor lounge with a notebook in one hand and a film theory book in the other, it already felt inevitable: four freshmen one Comm class and a dorm whose thin walls would never quite muffle their noise.
By October, nobody on Upper Campus could remember a time when the four of them weren’t moving through BC like one messy, chirpy constellation.
It started quietly that first night.
Freya showed up to the Gonzaga third‑floor lounge with a notebook, a film book half‑hidden under her arm, and her hair still damp from a shower. Will, Leno, and Gabe were already there, sprawled on the sagging couch with their COMM 101 syllabus open and absolutely zero work done.
“You’re late,” Leno said.
Freya checked the clock. “It’s eight‑oh‑two.”
“Exactly.”
She dropped into the armchair, feet curling under her. “How much have you done so far?”
Silence.
Gabe cleared his throat. “We’ve… highlighted the due dates.”
Freya looked at the pristine pages, then at the pile of unopened board games in the corner—someone’s attempt at RA‑approved socializing.
“Right,” she said. “We’re doomed.”
But she opened her notebook anyway, and for an hour they actually worked. Gabe organized, Will translated professor‑speak into normal words, Freya connected everything to movies she’d seen, and Leno provided colour commentary and questions that accidentally led to decent ideas.
When they finally closed their books, the tension in the room snapped.
Leno hopped up and grabbed a worn box from the game pile. “Okay,” he said. “Now that we’ve been responsible, it’s time for Catan.”
Gabe groaned. “You’re insufferable when you win.”
“I’m insufferable always” Leno corrected. “You might as well lose to me with style.”
Freya eyed the box. “I haven’t played that in years.”
“Perfect,” Will said. “He’s easier to beat than he thinks.”
They played until quiet hours, laughing too loud, accusing each other of trading sheep under the table, making alliances and breaking them in three turns. Some warnings came and went. Nobody cared.
By the time Freya padded back up to her dorm, hoodie full of stolen snacks, she’d already agreed to meet them for breakfast at Carney’s in the morning.
“Stole us a good table,” Will said when she arrived, sliding over to make room.
“You mean you got here early because you’re always starving,” she replied.
“Both can be true,” Gabe said mildly, adding hot sauce to his eggs.
They ate, half talking about practice, half strategizing group project roles, Freya sneaking glances at the line of film posters on the dining‑hall wall. Nobody mentioned that it had only been twenty‑four hours since they’d met properly.
It didn’t feel new anymore.
After that, it became routine.
Between‑class coffee If there was a break longer than twenty minutes, someone texted “Chocolate Bar?” and within five minutes they were all there, hunched over tiny café tables, Freya with a notebook full of shot lists, Gabe with flashcards, Will and Leno sharing a muffin like they hadn’t eaten an hour ago.
Dining‑hall runs also became a usual in their routine, they learned each other’s orders quickly—Freya’s habit of mixing salad bar stuff with whatever hot entrée looked least suspicious, Gabe’s obsession with soup, Leno’s commitment to trying every dessert, Will’s embarrassing cereal‑at‑all‑hours thing. Meal swipes blurred together into a shared tab.
Wednesday became unofficial game night in 314. They played Catan, Uno Exploding Kittens or whatever someone’s roommate had brought from home. Half the time, the games devolved into storytelling or gossip sessions where the board sat forgotten while they dissected line combinations, movie endings, and who on campus had the worst haircut.
More than once, Freya looked up from a conversation to realize it was 3 a.m., the fluorescent lights buzzing, and they were still on Gabe’s floor debating which teammate was secretly dating who or whether a certain professor hated athletes on principle. They’d sit cross‑legged on the floor of Leno and Gabe’s room, junk food everywhere, Will stretched out on the rug like his back didn’t hurt. No one reached for their phones unless it was to pull up a clip or a meme.
They made a tradition to visit almost cafeteria in Campus and disvover others in town, they’d claim a table; Gabe would actually work, Freya would alternate between editing a film paper and storyboarding in the margins, Will would half‑do readings and half‑spin his pen, and Leno would somehow finish nothing but still be the loudest one there.
On weekends, when they weren’t traveling for games, they discovered the campus bar scene together. They squeezed into crowded off‑campus pubs on game‑free Saturdays, Freya tucked between Gabe and Will at tall tables, Leno telling increasingly dramatic stories with his hands.
“You’re a menace,” she told him once, after he’d nearly knocked someone’s drink over miming a hit along the boards.
“You love me,” he said confidently.
She rolled her eyes. “I tolerate you.”
“Progress,” Gabe observed.
They also went shopping together in bursts—Target runs for dorm supplies, thrift‑store trips where Freya hunted for old movie T‑shirts and the boys tried on the ugliest jackets they could find. Back in Gonzaga, she’d sit on her bed under the ivy, new posters spread out around her, while Will lay on the floor critiquing her choices like he hadn’t worn the same hoodie three days straight.
“You’re not hanging that by your desk,” he said once, pointing at a particularly grim Swedish film poster.
“Watch me,” she replied.
He did. He always did.
By mid‑semester, people on campus just knew: if you saw one of them, the other three were probably close.
Freya and Will arguing about which movie they should watch for her Film assignment, Leno in the middle, refereeing. Gabe walking beside them, quietly listing off due dates so no one forgot a quiz.
Freya in women’s hockey team merch, jogging back from Conte with headphones in, only to be intercepted by three guys in men’s gear who’d waited an extra ten minutes so they could walk back together.
Will dropping a coffee on her desk in Comm before sliding into his own seat, like it was just part of the lecture set‑up. Gabe handing her a neat stack of notes if she’d missed anything during an away weekend. Leno leaning back in his chair to whisper, “We’re getting Stu fries after this, right?” until she caved.
They kept “almost everything” together without really planning it.
When Freya got her first film paper back with a higher grade than she’d expected, she went straight to 314, waving it in the air. Gabe insisted on reading the comments; Will insisted on framing it; Leno insisted they celebrate with late‑night trip to the Domino's pizza up campus in Rogers Park.
When Will had a rough practice, when he fumbled a pass and his head felt too full, Freya dragged him to her dorm and set up her laptop. “You’re watching this,” she said, pulling up a black‑and‑white movie about nothing and everything. Halfway through, his shoulders had dropped, the noise in his brain replaced by subtitles and soft music.
When Leno took a big hit in a game and came back sore and quiet, they all ended up on the floor of his dorm, Freya dealing out cards for some ridiculous party game, Will chirping him just enough to make him roll his eyes instead of wince.
When Gabe’s homesickness hit out of nowhere in November, it was Freya who knocked on his door with a stack of DVDs and a bag of microwave popcorn, saying, “Pick anything. I’m not going back upstairs until you do.”
By the end of the year they had developed a rhythm, breakfast together. Practice whenever they had it. Quick cafeteria stop, Comm lecture, coffee in between. Study sessions that turned into movie nights, board‑game nights that turned into group‑therapy sessions.
They were still four different people but freshman fall squeezed them into something shared.
From that first day in Comm, the joke was that they’d become inseparable.
The air inside Conte Forum carried that faint chill only hockey arenas have — the mixture of ice shavings, adrenaline, and stale popcorn.
Freshman orientation had ended hours ago, but Will Smith was still hanging around the rink, restless, stick twirling between his hands as he waited for open ice.
Boston already felt bigger and faster than anything he’d known in Minnesota, and he wanted to prove he belonged here. The sound of skates cutting into the ice snapped him from his thoughts. Someone had slipped past the “Closed for resurfacing” sign and was already skating across the far end of the rink.
“Hey! Ice isn’t open yet,” Will called, but the skater either didn’t hear him or didn’t care.
Her movements were sharp, confident, fluid — the kind of skating you couldn’t fake.When she finally coasted to a stop in front of him, pulling off her helmet, blonde hair spilled over her shoulders and clear blue eyes met his.
“Then we’re both breaking the rules,” she said with a smirk, tapping her stick against the ice.
“Freya Sedin.”The last name hit him like a puck to the shin. Sedin. He’d seen it before — Vancouver, twins, legends.
“Wait… are you—?”
“Related?” she cut in, rolling her eyes.
“Yeah. But luckily, I actually talk to people outside my line.”He laughed — a little too loudly — and offered his hand.
“Will.”
“I know,” she said, shaking it, a teasing edge to her voice. “Every scout here knows who Will Smith is. You’re the freshman promise.”
”In hockey? It always does.” She skated a lazy circle around him, her tone light but assessing. “So, are you just going to stand there, or are you going to show me what all the hype’s about?”
”Oh, I will show you”
“Cocky”
“Confident.”
Her words came with a little challenge, like she enjoyed poking at the reputation he hadn’t even earned yet. She leaned casually on her stick. “So, Smith, are you going to stand there, or are you going to skate?”
“You’re not supposed to be here,” he reminded her, climbing over the boards anyway.
“I’ll pretend I didn’t see you if you do the same.” The deal was unspoken, but real. Within seconds, their blades cut into the ice side by side.
They started small, half-speed drills that turned quickly competitive. They matched each other stride for stride — bursts down the wing, shoulder fakes, laughing when one slipped or spun too wide on a curve.
Freya was relentless, playful, and annoyingly good.When she challenged, “First to ten in shootouts?” Will grinned. “You’re on.”
She scored the first goal off the crossbar. Then the second. By the sixth, she was smirking every time he missed.
“You’re supposed to be the goal scorer,” she called out. “What happened, superstar?”
“Tired,” he said, panting, though he’d admit later that she was just better tonight.
When the puck finally clattered against the boards at 10–7, Freya skated past him, laughing, breathless and flushed. “Guess the freshman star still has a few things to learn.”
He leaned on his stick, watching her circle back, her cheeks pink from the cold, eyes gleaming under the arena lights. “Yeah? Maybe you can teach me.”
“Maybe,” she said, drawing the word out like a secret. “If you can skate fast enough to keep up.”
At the door, she turned to him, smirking. “Tomorrow. Same time. Let’s see if you can win one.”
“First lesson,” she teased, panting. “Never underestimate a Sedin.”
He leaned on his stick, grin tugging despite his pride. “Rematch?”
“Not tonight. You already lost twice — once by skating, once by ego.”
They started fooling around then — shooting at an empty net with dull pucks, trying trick shots, mocking each other’s form. Somewhere between laughter and exhaustion, they forgot why they came here alone in the first place.
When she finally dropped onto the bench beside him, she tugged off her gloves and flexed her cold fingers. “So where are you from, superstar?”
“Lexington. Massachusetts born and raised.”
“Close to home then.”
“Too close sometimes.”
"I know what you mean"
They left the rink together later that night, bags slung over their shoulders, the city hum faint in the distance.
"See you around, Smith"
"See you tomorrow, Sedin"
And she walked off, skating strides traded for long confident steps.
