The Dixon Rule (Campus Diaries, 2)

History

I ENTER THE LOCKER ROOM TO THE SOUND OF DEAFENING CHEERS. NAZZY and Patrick hop up on the bench and wave their towels around in the air. Trager has rolled up his jersey and is slapping asses with it. You’d think they just won the Stanley Cup finals, instead of watched me dance around in very tight clothing.

My teammates are all cheering and shouting and telling me how fucking amazing I did. I feel bad that I had to leave Diana there for the winners’ announcements. All the afternoon events are being announced now, the evening winners revealed later tonight at the after-party. I don’t know if an after-party full of amateur ballroom dancers would be the greatest thing ever or the cringiest. Either way, I won’t find out because I’ve got a hockey game to play.

“Dude, that was shockingly good.” Our co-captain, Case Colson, claps his hand over my shoulder. “And shockingly hot.”

“Yeah. My dick twitched,” Trager confirms.

I snort.

“I’m not even joking,” he insists. “Like damn. You and Dixon were generating some serious heat.”

We totally were.

“Thanks for coming,” I tell them, throwing my backpack in the locker. I’m still in my dance costume. I didn’t bother changing into my street clothes at the hotel since I was only going to have to change again when I got to the rink. I unbutton my shirt and wrench the bow tie off.

“When do you find out who the winners are?” Will asks curiously, sliding his chest protector on.

“Diana is going to text me. Should be any minute now.”

I set my phone on the shelf inside the locker and start to get dressed. I’ve got all my gear on except for my skates when I hear the alert.

A moment later, I release a loud whoop that captures the room’s attention.

Beckett lifts a brow. “Well?”

“Fifth place, motherfuckers!”

The room erupts again.

Trager, who couldn’t even stand the sight of me last semester, hauls me off my feet in a hug. Then he pulls back and wrinkles his nose. “Wait, is fifth place good? That sounds kind of bad.”

“Nah, man, it’s sick. Diana didn’t think we’d even make top ten.”

Speaking of Diana, another text pops up. My eyes nearly bug out of their sockets when I read it.

DIXON:

The 5th place prize is TEN GRAND!

Je-sus. What kind of hardcore amateur dance competition is this? I saw on the website that the first-place pair wins fifty grand, and I remember seeing the top five were also in the money, but I assumed that meant like six hundred bucks. Who the hell is funding this shit? Is the mafia involved?

DIXON:

That’s FIVE THOUSAND DOLLARS each!

I smile at the phone. Yeah, obviously I plan to give her the entire amount. I’m sure she’ll fight me on that, but I’ll fight harder. I’ll let her buy me a nice dinner or something, though.

ME:

How did Confi-Dance do?Content bel0ngs to Nôvel(D)r/a/ma.Org.

DIANA:

Don’t be mad.

DIANA:

3rd place.

Assholes.

I can’t deny that Viktor and Martinique were damn good, though. And while our tango was explosive, our waltz was par, and the cha cha was basically a disaster. I’m still stunned that Diana and I cracked the top five. It’s a satisfying culmination to an entire summer’s worth of rehearsals. Fifth place is a solid achievement, and I’m proud of us. I’m proud of Diana, who throws herself wholeheartedly into her projects. She told me last night that her next goal is to learn Spanish, and there’s zero doubt in my mind that she’ll be fluent by the end of the year. She’s that kind of person. Pure dedication.

I can’t believe I ever thought she was just a flighty cheerleader. I was so wrong about this woman.

Coach marches in to go over some last-minute strategy, his sharp gaze seeking out Beckett. “Dunne, I’m putting you on Lindley’s line tonight.”

Nice. I love it when Beck’s on the ice with me. He’s such a fuckin’ goon. I always know I’m going to get the puck because Beckett will have all the opposing forwards tangled up against the boards. He’s probably the best defenseman on the team.

He and I fist-bump, grinning at each other. We haven’t played on the same line since Eastwood College. When we transferred to Briar, he was put on the first line with Ryder, Case, Will, and David Demaine. But now that Demaine and a bunch of other seniors graduated, Coach and his staff keep rearranging the lines, trying to find a configuration that works. Tonight, I’m playing with Austin Pope, last year’s freshman superstar who’s now a sophomore sensation, and a couple other sophomores who are still a little wet behind the ears. Beck will be a welcome addition.

“Hey, Coach,” Nazem calls out. “Lindley placed fifth in the dance thing.”

Jensen fixes me with a withering look. “If you’re not first, you’re last.”

“Dude. Fifth place is awesome for my first dance competition. Come on, tell me I did a good job. You can do it, Coach—just one good job.”

He glowers at me. But as he’s turning away, I hear him mutter, “Good job” under his breath.

I laugh in delight. I always knew he was a big softie at heart.

He shocks me even further when he stops me at the locker room door, smacking my shoulder with a meaty hand. He waits for everyone else to stream out before saying, “It’s nice to see you give the same kind of dedication to all your pursuits, Lindley. I gotta say, though, your cha cha is sloppy as fuck.”

My jaw falls open. “What do you know about the cha cha?”

“My wife and I took dance lessons before our wedding,” he reveals. “Had to learn five Latin dances.”

“American or International?”

“International. It was the worst year of my life,” he growls.

I can’t stop a laugh.

“But it resulted in me marrying my woman and dancing a mean cha cha, so…” He shrugs. “You’re better than that, Lindley. Practice harder.”

He stomps off, and I stare after him. Chad Jensen is full of surprises, and, honestly, the gift that keeps on giving. I can’t wait to tell the boys about—

Halfway down the hall, Coach turns to smirk at me. “If you try to tell anyone about this, I’ll deny it. You will look like a fool.”

Goddamn it.

How does he know?

The game is fast-paced from the first puck drop. I’m still riding the high from the competition, and it only seems fitting that I score the winning goal. This is Shane’s night. This is Shane’s fuckin’ house.

“Yes,” Ryder growls, smacking my helmet as I heave myself over the wall. His line is done for the night, so he’s on the bench enjoying the action without any of the pressure.

There are only forty seconds left in the third. Sure, Boston College can score two goals in that time—miracles do happen. But it’s unlikely. Coach knows it and orders our third line to treat the rest of the game like a penalty kill, while the rest of us sit on the bench hollering for them to hold the line.

When the buzzer sounds, signaling the end of the third, everyone on the Briar bench surges to their feet, savoring the taste of victory. We were on fire tonight. Invincible. The atmosphere in the locker room afterward is sheer triumph.

“Gigi and Mya are outside with Diana,” Ryder tells me, shouldering his hockey bag. “Mya came up for Gigi’s game against Providence. We’re all heading back to Hastings and meeting up at Malone’s.”

Perfect. I didn’t even know my girl was here, but a quick glance at my phone confirms that Diana took an Uber here after the winners’ announcement. She says she’s waiting in the lobby.

When I step into the hallway, however, it’s not Diana I find waiting for me.

It’s Lynsey.

“Hey.” I’m startled to see her, especially standing there in jeans and a black sweater rather than the dance costume she was wearing at the hotel. “Why aren’t you at the NUABC after-party?”

“Decided to skip it.”

“But aren’t they announcing the winners of the American Nine?”

“Sergei will text me if we placed.”

She shrugs, which is very atypical for Lynsey. She’s usually very direct. And in all the years I’ve known her, she’s never blown off an important event. Or at least, an event that’s important to her.

I’m utterly baffled.

“Where’s Tyreek?” I ask. “Was he in the crowd rooting for you?”

“No. Actually, we broke up.”

“You did?”

She nods. “Last month.”

“Oh.” That’s odd. She and I have bumped into each other a couple of times on campus since then, and she hasn’t said a word about it.

“And I didn’t go to the after-party because I wanted to watch your game instead. I caught the last period.”

I hide my shock. “You came to watch me play?” And then I can’t help myself. “Never really showed much interest before…”

“I know. That was crappy of me.” She looks uncomfortable. “Can we go somewhere and talk?”

I hesitate.

“There’s a little pub not far from here. Let’s grab a quick drink.” She falters. “Oh. Unless you have to be on the team bus.”

“Not tonight. I drove myself because of the competition.”

“Okay. Great.” Her relief is unmistakable. “Then you can have a drink.”

“I’ve got plans. I’m meeting everyone back in Hastings to celebrate our win.”

“I won’t take too much of your time, Lindy. You can still meet everyone there. You’ll just be, what? Fifteen minutes late? Twenty?”

Her gaze is so earnest, and for a moment, she appears uncertain. I’m suddenly reminded of our first kiss. For all her bravado—even as a teenager, she acted like she was so sure of herself—when I went to kiss her that first time, cupping her cheek with my hand, she’d worn this same look. Uncertainty and hope. Eagerness mixed with fear.

“I’ve been doing a lot of self-reflecting since Ty and I broke up, and I need to get a few things off my chest. Please.” When I hesitate again, she releases a frustrated breath. “I don’t want to play the history card, but come on, Shane. I’ve known you since the eighth grade. You can spare twenty minutes for me.”

She’s right, I can.

Before I can answer, I catch sight of a familiar platinum ponytail at the end of the hall. When I see Diana break through the crowd, I glance at Lynsey and say, “I’ll meet you out front. I’ll come around with the car.”

“Sounds good,” she answers gratefully.

As Lynsey passes Diana, she greets her with a nod. I don’t miss the suspicion darkening Diana’s eyes as she approaches me. I hold out my arms, and even as she flies into them to hug me, I feel the rising tension.

“Fifth fuckin’ place!” I exclaim. “I told you that tango was killer.”

She brightens at that. “I can’t believe how much money we won! This is really going to help me.”

“I know. It’s wild. What did fourth place get?”

“Twelve grand.”

I nod decisively. “I know what we’re aiming for next year.”

Diana grins and takes my hand. Then, as if she’s remembering what she just saw, the smile abruptly fades. “Why was Lynsey here?”

“She wants to talk.” I pause for a second. “Gigi’s here, right? Ryder said she’s got her car?”

“Yeah,” Diana answers uneasily. “Why?”

“Do you mind driving back to Hastings with her and Mya? I’m going to grab a quick drink with Lynsey, but I’ll meet you at Malone’s right after. I’ll be thirty minutes behind you, I promise.”

Diana stares at me.

“What?” I run my hand over my close-cropped hair, lightly scraping my palm.

“You’re grabbing a drink with Lynsey.” Her tone is flat.

“I told you, she wants to talk.”

“Yeah, I bet she does.”

“It’s not like that,” I assure her.

The tension between us continues to rise. I can see Diana’s mind spinning, her jaw working as she grits her teeth. She wants to say something. No, she wants to say a lot of things, and I’ve witnessed her temper enough times to know it’s taking all her restraint not to explode on me.

She exhales slowly. “I don’t want you to go with her.”

My eyebrows fly up. “What?”

Torment creases her face. “I wasn’t planning on saying this right now, in this hallway, but…this isn’t pretend for me anymore, Shane.”

“I know that.” My voice is a little gruff.

“I have feelings for you. Real feelings. And I can’t believe I’m saying this to Shane Lindley when last year you were the last person I wanted to speak to. But this is it. This is the truth. And I get it, okay? I know this whole thing started because you wanted to make her jealous, and I’m sure you were secretly hoping she would break up with Tyreek and take you back—”

“She and Tyreek did break up.”

Diana shakes her head derisively. “See? That’s why you can’t go! She’s trying to get back together with you.”

Unhappiness washes over me. “Maybe. Or maybe not. Either way, I have no intention of getting back with her. Whatever it is she wants to talk about, she was pretty upset and I owe it to our history to hear her out.”

“You don’t owe her anything. She dumped you.”

I reach for Diana, but she steps back, her cheeks reddening with anger.

“I don’t want you to go. Please. I’m asking you not to.”

“It’s a conversation. Nothing more.”

Silence falls between us. Voices from the lobby drift into the hall, animated chatter and muffled laughter, but Diana and I are at an impasse, neither of us making a sound.

Finally, she speaks. Her voice is colder than the Atlantic.

“All right, Shane. I see how this is.”

Frustration clamps around my throat. “What do you mean?”

She laughs bitterly. “I literally just stood here and told you I have feelings for you, and you said nothing in return. So I see it, plain as day. I see where we’re at. I see what this is to me, and I see what this is to you. And you know what? Just go with Lynsey. Hope you have fun.”

Diana spins on her heel and marches off without a backward look.