It happened every time without fail.

The days preceding an exam were spent in survival mode. The priority was studying; that was what required our A-effort and attention. Everything else; whatever we could do would have to do. Even if that meant that a break consisted of staring at a wall, or if dinner meant a handful of chocolate chips, or, my personal favourite, if naps consisted of two minutes of closed eyes with notes clutched in your hands.

To get themselves through that slog, many students would plan something fun to do as soon as they were done the exam. For me, it was an opportunity to finally order that book I had been dying to read and swap my textbook for my Kindle. This time, however, plans were a little different. Lawson and Angela wanted to do something actually fun (as if a new adult romance isn't!) with Taylor and myself.

Okay, the book can wait, was my first thought when Angela suggested it to me, especially when she mentioned Taylor. If he wasn't part of the plans, I definitely would've chosen the student-teacher romance novel over hanging with Angela and Lawson.

Seeing Taylor again sounded good, too good for me to admit. While I had spent the week studying, he had spent the week in the States on a road trip. We texted when we could, which wasn't all that often. There was a minor time difference, in more ways than one. The one time Taylor was really busy—when he was on the ice—was when I wasn't. By seven pm each night, I had my notes packed up and was resting on the couch, watching him, ironically.

All that was to say that I was looking forward to reconnecting with Taylor again.

Because that's what I felt we had. A connection. A genuine connection.

I didn't think it happened all that often in my life, and I never could have imagined I'd have one with a professional hockey player.

The issue, however, was that I was now regretting agreeing to the plans. I had written the exam this morning and I was now. Dead. Tired.

I should've known. I really should have.

I've written enough exams in my life to know that the day (sometimes days) following the exam was hellish. If I didn't fall immediately into my bed after I made myself a snack when I got home, I considered that a success.

Even taking into account my exhaustion by planning a low impact activity didn't help. Movies went unwatched. Books went unread. Tears were shed. My mood always seemed to be particularly low. It was like I needed Viagra for motivation.

I just couldn't get it up.

That was why I was laying on my back, starfish style, on Angela's bed at her mother's house.

"I haven't been here in so long," I exclaimed. "I miss it!"

Ang stopped sifting through her closet and frowned. "How can you miss it? We never hung out here, always at your place."

"I don't know," I shrugged. "It's like I can picture us being fourteen and sitting on this bed gossiping so clearly."

I lazily moved my arms and legs around her bed, like I was making a snow angel. The room hadn't changed at all. If anything, the yellow and purple fabrics of the bedsheets and curtains faded just a tad. Other than that, her bookshelf with her Twilight and Hunger Games books was still there, as was her floor lamp that had a disco ball as the shade.

"I wouldn't get so cozy in there. I wouldn't be surprised if my mom and Al had sex in there."

She said it so casually, like she was recalling what she ate for lunch, that I continued my movements for a few seconds before it registered. I stopped immediately.

"What? Why? Actually, don't answer that."

"Probably if her bed was dirty."

I grabbed a small pillow and tossed it at her head. "I said, don't answer that!"

Because I don't have an athletic bone in my body, the pillow hit the wall a few feet away from her head, leaving her completely unscathed. Of course it did.

I rolled my eyes and laid back on the mattress. Warning be damned. I was tired and the fatigue was making me impatient.

"Can you just hurry up?"

We were waiting for Taylor and Lawson to pick us up in about ten minutes. The plan was to play a round of mini-golf at the local indoor facility. Initially, Lawson had suggested going bowling, but Taylor vetoed that idea, saying that he couldn't risk injuring his shoulder. Apparently, it was a nagging injury from his junior days.

Angela had told me to meet her here, and not at her dorm. To say that I was surprised would be an understatement. Ang never came home unless she absolutely needed to. I knew she didn't come home to see her mom because she was away visiting her sister in Brandon.

"You never did say why you needed to come here," I told Angela.

She continued to look through her closet. Now she was picking up and opening shoeboxes that she kept on the top shelf.

"Clearly, I'm looking for something," she retorted.

Witch.

"Well, what are you looking for?" There was a bite to my voice, but it was probably more chihuahua than German shepherd.

"This!" Ang exclaimed, holding a small red and black shopping bag that looked almost as old as us.

"What's in there?" I pushed my body up to a sitting position.

"Remember these?" Angela pulled out the black lace fabric and held them up so I could see.

Oh god. I did.

Angela and I had been fifteen and shopping at the mall. We were eating bags of Kernels popcorn and chatting happily as we walked through whichever stores had cute clothes in their front windows. We never did tend to buy a lot of things. If there was something particular that I needed to buy, I brought my mom with me because I trusted her opinion over mine. But this time, we were passing Victoria's Secret when a neon yellow sign caught our eyes. Free underwear, no purchase necessary.

Why not, we thought? The price was certainly right. The place was a madhouse; it seemed like every person who wore traditionally female underwear in Winnipeg was at the store. So, Angela and I dispersed and planned to meet at the cash. When we reunited, I had in my hands a very practical nude, cotton, pair of briefs and Angela had something straight out of a naughty angel's fantasy: a black, lacy thong that had mesh in the front.

"What?" she had said to me. "Don't give me that look! These could come in handy one day!"

Apparently, that "one day" was today, six years later.

"I can't believe you still have those!"

"I know! For the longest time I had actually forgotten about them. When I got them, I had to hide them in my closet because if my mom found it, she'd take them."

"Why'd you take them out now?" I dared to ask.

Angela didn't look me in the eye when she responded. She had suddenly become very occupied with inspecting the garment. Her fingers ran over the lace several times and I found the movement hypnotizing.

"Because I'm ready to sleep with Lawson."

Again with the overly casual tone.

"Oh, okay."

Because really, what else was there to say besides that?

Angela dropped her hands to the thigh and cocked her head to the side. Here comes a lecture...

"What? You don't approve?"

That was a rhetorical question, because when I opened my mouth to deny that, she kept on going.

"Camille, I know you. I know your family. And I know that you think having sex is wrong."

My eyes bulged out of their sockets. Angela's hands were perched on her hips, covering her faded denim mom jeans and a lock of hair had fallen into her eyes, which she blew away. Now I knew she meant business.

"I wouldn't put it that way," I huffed.

"Okay, well, not wrong," she conceded, rolling her eyes, "but you've always seen it as something kind of taboo, am I right?"

I pulled my bottom lip in between my teeth and thought. Okay, fine. I was raised by parents who thought that sex was something that was best saved for marriage, that sleeping together before you were married was a huge "no-no." Now my mother was changing her tune and saying that people can do whatever they want with their bodies, but that's probably because my brother had sex before he got married (in her house!) and she didn't want to look like a hypocrite. (My dad found a condom in my brother's room when he was twenty-two and I was fourteen. Yeah, I knew what it was.)

All of that resulted in me having this...this odd feeling toward sex. It's not that I think it's bad, because I don't, but it has made me think twice about pursuing it.

Sex is a pleasure, or so I hear. And so is chocolate. But the difference is that if I'm craving chocolate I can easily go to a grocery store and get some, guilt free. If I was horny, however, I just couldn't go on a dating app or out to a bar to look for a hookup. That's just not what I did, not what good girls did. That was what I was, according to my father, but what did that even mean, anyways? When I felt that ache between my thighs I resorted to masturbation, but even that wasn't guilt free.

"I don't know, Ang," I said, copping out. "You know I trust you to know what you're doing,"

"I do," she blushed. "I'm really starting to like Lawson. We have fun together."

A warm, protective feeling filled my chest.

"You just let me know if he hurts you."

She smirked. "I hear it does hurt the first time."

Where was another pillow I could throw at her?

"You know that wasn't what I meant!"

"I know. I just like seeing you blush. And speaking of blushing, how are things going with Taylor?"

The little...

"Okay, I know for a fact I don't blush when I hear or say his name." I shrugged. "Things aren't like that with us. We're friends."

And we were. Just because I found him attractive didn't mean I was in love with him. Harry Styles is hot, and have I ever loved him?

Okay, bad example.

Still. I was more than happy with Taylor being my friend.

Angela didn't buy that, obviously not. "Then why don't you mention his name, instead of just saying 'him'?"

"Think what you want, lady," I sighed, pushing my neck back so that I could look at the popcorn ceiling.

She did have a point, though. Taylor's name was becoming sacred to me, something that I only said in my head. It was like if I said his name out loud, I was admitting to everyone around me that I thought he was cute.

"Have you thought any more about grad school?" I asked, picking at a loose lavender-coloured thread on Angela's quilt.

"Please! We just had an exam today." She reminded me as she plopped down onto the bed beside me. "No more school thoughts for now. But I'll update you when I know. I really got to get going on my research."

"Fair en—What the hell was that?"

As my pre-thought words were about to spill out of my mouth, the sound of something ominous from outside interrupted me.

Weird noises, no matter what time of day it is, scare the hell out of me.

Angela shrugged and pulled her phone out of her pant pocket. It had buzzed moments after I had heard the sound.

"Lawson just texted me that they're here. Maybe they knocked into something?"

Right on cue, there was heavy knocking on the front door. I got off the bed and followed Ang out of her room. The knocking was growing louder and if a knock could convey feelings, I'd say that it sounded anxious.

"Hold your horses," Angela muttered.

"Yeah, seriously."

The sounds of our sock-covered feet padding on the hardwood floor were all that I could hear.

"Is there a fire?" Ang asked as she pulled open the door.

Standing there was Taylor, with a facial expression I had never seen him wear. Both sides of his mouth were pulled down and his eyebrows looked like they were introducing themselves to his nose. He looked extremely anxious.

Still handsome, by the way.

"You guys okay?" he asked.

"Um, yes? Are you?"

He ignored my question and took a step into the house. "When we were pulling up to the curb we saw someone go into the backyard. I knew you guys were in here and..." One of his arms reached out to touch the small of my back but it fell quickly.

"For fuck sakes," Angela cursed, throwing her hands up in the air. "It's probably my mom's boyfriend. He has a key for the back door."

She turned to the general area that the back door would be located. Sure enough, a man walked up the short flight of stairs.

"Baby, you here?" a rough voice called.

Damn. If his appearance matched his voice, I could see why Taylor would have been worried.

"No, it's Angela," she said.

She didn't make eye contact with neither Taylor nor myself. Her acidic tone scared me, but only because I knew it meant that she was upset and afraid.

"Yeah, that's who I meant," who I assumed was Al, said.

What the fuck?

"Guys, let's just go. I'm guessing Lawson is in the car?" Angela said, sounding worn out.

For once, she didn't seem to have any fight in her. She just grabbed her coat off the hook and made a point of keeping her back towards the direction of the intruder.

"Yeah, just a second." Taylor stepped around Angela and I. He stuck out his hand so that I was enclosed in between his body and the front door. "Can I help you?"

Al came into view. The implied threat in Taylor's voice stopped him in his tracks. Hell, even my spine straightened.

I looked at Dani's boyfriend for only a fraction of a second. Still, in that short amount of time, I could tell that he was balding, had a gut that protruded over his dirty jeans, and that he was scared shitless. He didn't answer Taylor with words, and just mumbled things that sounded like no, sorry and please don't hurt me and mommy, help.

Fine. I made the last two up.

Taylor wasn't assuaged. The muscles in his arms tensed and his weight shifted forward, onto the balls of his feet.

"Bother these girls again and I'll snap your neck."

Jesus Christ.

Did Taylor have that in him? There was certainly the stereotype that hockey players were big and strong and tough, but Taylor was more a skill guy, despite his large size. Maybe that was it. Maybe Al just had to think that Taylor could pound him.

I didn't want to lay my eyes on Al again so I looked at Angela. Colour her impressed. She was nodding her head in that satisfactory way like she just climbed Mt. Kilimanjaro. I heard heavy footsteps grow quieter as Al went elsewhere in the house.

"Something tells me you guys will be okay," Taylor said to us and winked.

"Why thank you, Mr. Hudson, noble steed," Angela praised as we stepped outside.

Taylor looked straight up confused, so far from the guy who could threaten to snap someone's neck. I laughed.

"But seriously," Taylor said. "I want you to tell me if he bothers either one of you."

I had no doubt in my mind he did.