Heart Starter by Michelle Hercules

3

DANNY

“Earth to Danny. Hello!”Andy snaps his fingers in front of my face.

“What?” I glare at him.

“Please don’t tell me you’re still worried about your car.”

I had to park in a heavy pedestrian traffic area, and knowing how drunk everyone gets at parties on campus, I wasn’t happy. The last time I drove, a few idiots used the hood as a make-out spot and left a big dent behind. So the truth is, I am still stressing, but if I confess, Andy won’t stop bugging me.

“No,” I lie.

“Where was your head, then? I’ve been talking to myself for the past five minutes.”

“So the usual for you, then?” Paris pipes up with a smile on his face, joining us in the small space we carved out in the jam-packed area.

“Bite me, Paris,” Andy retorts. “Flying solo tonight?”

Andy’s question erases Paris’s amusement in a flash. “No, Lydia stopped to chat with some old friend from her high school.”

“I’m shocked she has friends,” Andy mutters before he takes a large sip of his beer.

Paris doesn’t reply. Either he didn’t hear it or he’s choosing to ignore Andy’s comment. He knows his longtime girlfriend is no one’s favorite. He’s a pretty chill guy, friendly and outgoing. The little I’ve seen of his girlfriend suggests she’s the opposite, but I won’t join the hate bandwagon based solely on first impressions.

I take a sip of my beer—the only one I’m drinking tonight—as I scan the crowd. The Red Barn preseason party is one of the most popular events on campus, and it’s bursting at the seams with people. Most in attendance are part of an athletic program or a Greek. Last year, I got totally trashed. It was my first college party, after all. But after my convo with Coach Clarkson, I’m one hundred percent dedicated to not letting Rushmore’s social life deviate me from my goals.

“Where’s Jane tonight?” Paris asks Andy.

“She has a game out of town. She’ll be back tomorrow.”

Paris drops his jaw, widening his eyes in an exaggerated surprised expression. “And you let her go?”

I snicker when Andy’s spine goes taut and he clenches his jaw in displeasure. “What are you insinuating, buddy? I trust my girlfriend completely.”

“Gee, relax. I’m just busting your balls. It doesn’t feel great, does it?”

Andy grumbles before chugging his beer. Since getting together with Jane, this is his first big college party without her, and I can already tell he’s in the mood to get wasted, which sucks for me. Drunk Andy is a fucking pain in the ass.

Despite there not being enough space to walk from one side to the other in the open room without using elbows to make way, I can still see distinct division lines among the crowd. Everyone is hanging out with their own teammates, groups, or cliques. However, that will change as the evening progresses and alcohol consumption increases.

Not far from us, I spot the girls from the soccer team. They’re cool chicks, drama-free, and focused as hell on their game. It’s no surprise they’re at the top of their league. The same can’t be said about their counterparts. Rushmore’s men’s soccer team not only sucks but also their players are mostly dicks, especially their captain, Nick Fowler.

I catch sight of him making his way to Vanessa Castro, the captain of the women’s soccer team. He gets into her personal space and whispers something in her ear. It’s obvious by her body language that she’s not happy about the proximity or whatever Nick has to say.

“Shit. The douche king has arrived,” Andy sneers.

Paris follows his line of sight. “What the hell is that weasel doing?”

He stands to his full height, body tense all of a sudden. Paris is a beast, the tallest player on our team and as strong as a bulldozer. He seems ready to run interference, but Vanessa doesn’t seem to need his help after all. She says something to Nick that sends him away scowling. Unfortunately, he’s coming in our direction now.

When he’s within earshot, Andy speaks up. “Need some aloe vera for that burn, Nick?”

His expression turns murderous, but he quickly covers it up with an arrogant smirk. “Don’t know what you’re talking about, Rossi. Vanessa and I were chatting about the upcoming season.”

“Not what it looked like from here,” Paris replies, his tone harsh and cold.

Nick’s eyebrows arch. “Sounds like you’re jealous, Andino. Does Lydia know about your other interests?”

It’s Murphy’s Law that Lydia would show up just in time to hear Nick’s comment.

“What other interests?” She loops a possessive arm around Paris’s waist.

“Nothing, babe. Come on, let’s get a drink. The air here has gotten rotten.”

He steers her toward the nearest bar before Nick can get another malicious comment in.

“You’re such a dick, Fowler.” Andy glowers at the douche.

Like the idiot he is, Nick steps into Andy’s space. “Oh, I’m a dick, huh? Do you think I’m afraid of you, Rossi?”

Andy has already curled his hand into a fist, and I can see things are about to turn bad in the blink of an eye. Nick’s buddies from the soccer team are already striding our way. For fuck’s sake. I toss my cup to the floor and get between Andy and Nick, pushing the jerk back.

“Get lost, Fowler,” I tell him.

“Make me, Hudson,” he grits out, bringing his ugly mug inches from my face.

Knowing full well that if I get into a fight, Coach will have my head, all I can do is swallow my anger and not fall for Nick’s goading.

Suddenly, Puck and Paris are there, pulling Nick off me. His buddies lose their bravado and hang back. It was stupid of them to think they could take on Andy and me, and suicidal to face off against Puck and Paris, the Rushmore Rebels’ linebackers.

“Get lost, Fowler. You’re stinking up the place.” Puck shoves the jackass toward his friends.

Shaking with anger, he points a finger in our direction. “This isn’t over.”

I rub my face, annoyed as fuck that the asshole managed to get under my skin. I wish I could have made a pancake out of his face.

“I can’t believe you got into a fight, Paris,” Lydia complains loudly.

“I didn’t get into a fight. I helped avoid one,” he retorts, sounding annoyed, which is a surprise. He always treats his girlfriend as if she’s breakable.

“Why did you have to meddle?” she continues.

“Are you serious right now?”

I hear the frustration in his tone, which reminds me of how I used to sound by the end of the only serious relationship I’ve ever had.

Not wanting to witness Paris and Lydia argue, I turn to Andy and Puck. “Let’s get another drink.”

“Fuck. Let’s.” Andy leads the way.

It’s impossible to walk side by side, so I end up following Andy and Puck. But a hand on my arm stops me in my tracks. I put my game face on despite the fact that I don’t feel like socializing with strangers now. Only, the person staring at me is not unfamiliar. Gwen, my ex-girlfriend, is standing there with a big smile on her face. I have to blink twice to make sure I’m not seeing things.

“Gwen?”

“Hi, Danny.”

My heart is pounding fast, and not in a good way. The end of our relationship wasn’t amicable. It was ugly, and it made me swear off serious relationships for the next decade or longer.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, on edge.

Her smile wilts to nothing. “I didn’t come here to follow you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

I’m still in shock from seeing her here, so it takes me a moment to process her words.

“What do you mean, come here?”

“I transferred to John Rushmore.”

I feel the blood drain from my face. She didn’t follow me, my ass.

“You transferred to the school I go to and you expect me to believe it’s a coincidence?”

She drops her hand from my arm. “I don’t care what you believe, Danny. I’ve always wanted to come here, but I didn’t in our freshman year because of you. But why shouldn’t I attend the school of my dreams to spare your feelings?”

I scoff. “Trust me. My feelings are fine. The question is, are yours?”

She watches me through slitted eyes. “Yes, Danny. I’ve finally moved on. You don’t have to worry about me anymore.”

She seems hurt by my question, and despite the shit she made me go through in our senior year in high school, I feel guilty.

I sigh. “Listen, I’m sorry, okay? It’s been a shitty night, and the last person I expected to see here was you. I’m glad you’re at your first-choice school.”

“Thanks. Well, I’d better get back to my sorority sisters.”

I watch her disappear into the crowd, but the foreboding feeling still lingers in my chest. Damn it. I sure hope Gwen is telling the truth about why she transferred here. I glance around, trying to find the guys, but the crowd has swallowed them up. Whatever. I need fresh air more than I need a beer.

When I finally manage to get outside, I keep walking until I’m back in the parking lot. Hell, it’s clear that what I really want is to go home. I pull my cell phone out and text Andy. He can ride back with Puck or Paris. No sooner do I get near my car than I notice one of the taillights is busted and my bumper is crooked and bent.

Fucking hell.Someone rear-ended my car, and now there will be hell to pay.