"Jake!" I look up to find one of the players in front of us leaning over the back of the seat, grinning.

"Yeah?" he replies, grinning back. The other guy glances at me and smiles as he extends a hand over the back of the seat.

"I'm Lee," he introduces, and I smile, taking his hand.

"Ah, yes," I reply, recognizing him. The one I have to thank for currently being on the bus. "I'm Eliza." He nods, and gestures toward Jake with a grin.

"Keep an eye on him- he likes to get out of hand," Lee informs me with a wicked grin. I laugh, as does Jake. Lee waves his hand. "Ah, I'm just kidding with you. He's probably the most down to earth of any of us," he insists, and I nod. I can believe that.

"Thanks, Lee," Jake says sarcastically, and Lee grins, disappearing back into his seat. Jake turns back to me, and I feel giddy again. "You like hockey, then?" he questions, and I smile.

"Yeah. I can't skate worth crap, but I love to watch," I reply. He looks surprised.

"You can't skate?" I shake my head vigorously, my hair getting caught in my scarf.

"I can stay on my feet. That's about it," I reply, tugging my hair loose of my scarf. Great. He probably thinks I'm an idiot, loving hockey but not being able to skate. Why did I say that? He cocks his head and looks at me carefully.

"I could teach you, if you want," he offers, and I think I'm dying again. Jake, teaching me to skate? What's to consider? Why am I even hesitating?

"Are you sure?" I question, a smile leaking onto my face just the same. He nods.

"Oh, yeah, sure." I beam.

"I'd love that," I reply, and he smiles at me. Wow. He's smiling because of what I say. Who would have ever seen that coming? We sit in contented silence for a moment. Our silence is interrupted by the bus lurching to a halt. Jake rises, removing his arm from my shoulders. Damn. He extends his hand to me. Ok. That's good. I take it, smiling, and rise. We file off the bus, and make our way into the Italian restaurant. The staff is apparently expecting us, because we're immediately ushered into a large, private room with tables and food already set up. He's still holding my hand. It's a wonderful feeling.

"Nice," someone comments, and the crowd (because it is quite a crowd of us) starts laughing. Who would have thought that a hockey game would turn into this? The starved players immediately dive into the food, but Jake leads me to one of the smaller tables. He releases my hand (damn) and sits; I take the seat opposite him and begin tearing off my layers. A scarf, mittens and a heavy-duty winter coat are more than enough to bog one down. As I shrug out of my coat, it suddenly occurs to me that I don't remember what I'm wearing. Damn! What if it's something completely humiliating? I quickly halt these thoughts by glancing down at my outfit- ok. Not too bad. A sweater and a pair of jeans. Not perfect, but by no means bad or embarrassing. I adjust my necklace and tuck my hair behind my ear before looking back up at Jake. He, too, has dispatched of his coat, and is watching me. My cheeks go red again.

"You look nice," he informs me, and I smile.

"Thank you." I fold my hands on the table in front of me, not sure what to do with all the players swarming around with food, talking loudly about the game. Oh, god, I wonder if Jake wishes I weren't here. I'm probably ruining his celebration for him. Maybe I shouldn't have come. Maybe I should have just left, when-

"I like this." I look up in surprise to find Jake examining my right hand, his fingers mere inches from mine. He's focused on one of my many rings, a combination of 12 silver rings, all strung together. He taps it for emphasis, and I smile.

"Thanks," I reply. Maybe he doesn't regret it. Maybe I should stop thinking, and enjoy this. After all, it's only one night- I should enjoy every second of it. I look back at him, and he's examining all of my rings. I have a lot, I admit.

"Where did you get these?" he asks, and I smile.

"That's a long answer," I answer, and he shrugs, smiling. His hair is drying and falling down into his eyes. I feel this sudden urge to push it off his forehead. No. Sit. Stay.

"Go for it," he encourages. I smile and begin describing the circumstances of each ring falling into my possession. Bought from another student, a graduation present, a one dollar find in an otherwise expensive store, a birthday present, something I stumbled across in Maine. by the time I finish, he's holding my hand and examining each as I talk about it. He's holding my hand. Oh wow. I finish, and he looks up at me expectantly. I can barely think straight with his hand holding mine like wow.

"What about this one?" he questions, pointing to the one I skipped over. Damn.

"Ex-boyfriend," I reply simply, and he cocks his head. I take this as a sign to elaborate. "The first thing he ever bought me. I just really like it." He nods, looking at it carefully- it's just a cheap piece of metal, warped after all the years to only fit one of my fingers. I think it cost ten dollars.

"Have you had many?" It takes me a moment to realize he's talking about ex- boyfriends.

"Oh. Um, not an exorbitant amount," I reply with a grin. He laughs.

"How many?" This is deeply personal question, and I'm hesitant to answer.

"You first," I say instead. He nods, as if to say 'fair enough.'

"Eight," he replies. Not bad. Not bad at all. I nod. "And you?" he questions, grinning. Oh god, he's squeezing my hand. I could really die right now.

"Six," I reply, and he nods with a smile.

"And is there one now?" he questions, and I realize he's teasing.

"No," I reply in the same voice, grinning. "Do you have one?" He shakes his head, laughing.

"Me? Do I look like I could hold down a girlfriend?" he questions, and I raise my eyebrows.

"Yes." He stops laughing and gazes at me. Oh, I love that gaze. I really do.

"You may be disappointed," he replies carefully. Oh god, what does that mean? Is he just playing with me? Of course he's just playing with me- he lives several hundred miles away! When would I ever see him? I don't even have a car, never mind finding a ride to visit him occasionally. Besides, I'm just a random girl he met at a hockey game! How could I ever pretend that this was something? Just because he holds my hand. ok, don't think about his hands. Just because. well. because of this, it doesn't mean he wants anything from you!

Thus reassured of my powers of logic, I try and think of something intelligent to say. Easier said than done. Or easier thought than said, I suppose.

"Maybe I will be," I finally say, and he gazes thoughtfully at me, smile gone. Great. What have I done now? I'm such an idiot.

"Or maybe you won't be," Jake finally replies. This stuns me into silence. What does that mean? Does he want something to happen? What? I'm so confused.

"Hey, Jake! Come get the food before it's gone!" someone yells. Great timing. Jake gives me an apologetic look before releasing my hand (damn it) and rising.

"Do you want anything?" he offers, and I nearly get lost in his eyes.

"No, that's all right, thanks," I reply. He nods before disappearing behind me to the food table. Great. What is going on here? What's he thinking? What am I thinking? Can someone tell me what's going on?

"What's going on, Eliza?" I turn in shock to find Lee sitting down beside me, grinning.

"Not much," I finally reply, after the air comes back into my lungs. "And you?" He shrugs and points at the food.

"Good stuff. You want any?" he offers, shoving the plate toward me. I look at it. A whole lot of unidentifiable stuff.

"No thanks," I reply, pushing the plate back. He grins.

"You sure? It's good," he insists, pushing the plate back. I laugh. Some of it does look pretty good.. "You know you want some." Deciding the easiest way out is to surrender, I grin and grab his fork. I poke at some strange green solid for a moment, then move on to a similar yellow substance. I finally decide on a piece of ravioli, and stick it in my mouth. It has been a while since I ate, I realize. But I'm not really hungry. "Good?" Lee asks, eyebrows raised expectantly. I nod, still eating. It is good.

I look up to find Jake sitting down across from me again, a curious look on his face. Uh oh. That isn't a good look.

"I thought you weren't hungry," Jake says. "I would have got you something." Not only is that a bad look, it's a really bad look. It's a hurt look. Honestly, isn't it too early to be hurt? We aren't even in a relationship! Oh god, I'm just an idiot, aren't I?

"She's not," Lee replied, eating some of the ravioli himself. "I forced her." I can't help but laugh at this, and Jake apparently can't help either. I smile at him, and he returns it. Good. Thanks, Lee.

"You should try this," Jake says, holding a fork with another random piece of pasta on it in my direction. I cock my head at it, giving it a good look. It looks good, and I lean in. Jake feeds it to me off the fork. oh, I could get used to this boy.

"Sorry, Lee," I say as I swallow the pasta. "His is better." Jake laughs at this, and Lee hides a grin.

"That's always the way it goes, isn't it," he comments.

"Don't worry, I still love you," Jake reassures Lee, and I laugh.

"Gee, thanks," Lee replies with a grimace. Then he grins and turns to me. "So what did you think of Jakie's goal tonight?" I grin.

"It was fantastic," I reply. Jake is practically beaming. "I think I realized he had the puck before he did, though." Jake chuckled at this, and Lee nodded.

"Probably. He tends to be a bit slow like that." This earned Lee a smack from Jake, which soon turned into an all-out brawl as they leapt from their seats and began rolling around on the floor, fighting good-naturedly. This is why I like parties- something fun always happens. I watch, amused, and pick food from their half-eaten plates. I think Jake's got the upper hand. After several minutes, they rise, grinning, and start to return to the table.

"All right, sorry to break this up," Bob calls from across the room. "But we've got to get going. The bus leaves early tomorrow!" There's a chorus of moans, and suddenly Jake is by my side.

"Hey," he says, holding out his hand. I smile and take it- what else would I do? He helps me to my feet, and we reluctantly return to the bus, my hand in his. That's so nice, I can't even begin to describe it. Alas, he releases it as I board the bus. Oh, but it's now on my lower back. That's almost as nice. We take our former seats, although I'm in the window seat this time. Jake doesn't even try to be suave about it this time- he just puts his arm around me. I look up and smile at him- he's just so cute, I don't know what to do. His hair is flopped over his eyes again, and this time I don't hesitate. With slightly trembling fingers, I reach up and push his hair away from his forehead. It's light and feathery, a lovely mixture of blond and brown. He closes his eyes as I do this, only opening them again when my hand is resting on my leg again.

"Lee tells me I'm your favorite player," he says, and I grin. "Is that true?" he asks with a teasing smile. I nod.

"Yes, it is," I confirm. "Although how Lee would know that, I'm not sure." Jake grins.

"He claimed you were staring at me." I can feel my cheeks growing red, and I look down.

"That's true," I agree faintly. He laughs.

"Really?" I nod, grinning despite my red cheeks.

"Yeah. He caught me after the first period." Jake laughs again, and suddenly his hand is under my chin, pulling my face up to look at him.

"You were staring at me?" he asks in mock horror. I grin.

"Yeah," I admit softly, meeting his eyes. Those are gorgeous eyes. They really, really are. And I'm about to get lost in them, again, if I'm not careful. Suddenly, I realize he's getting close. Oh my god, he's going to kiss me. His hand is still under my chin, and he gently lifts my head to meet his. I can barely think straight. oh my god. I close my eyes, and a moment later his lips are on mine. Three words. Oh. My. God. Then he's gone.

It was just a peck, but it was a slice of heaven, I swear. I could definitely get used to that. I open my eyes to find him gazing at me, smiling. Smiling is a good thing. So I smile too. His arm tightens around my shoulders, and I feel like dying yet again. It was just too perfect.

Too perfect to last, of course, because the bus decided to stop right then. Well, not arbitrarily, as we're back at the rink. Before I can say anything, we're on our feet, and then off the bus. And the players are going back to the rink to pack up their things before they head to the hotel. Except Jake. Jake is still by my side, an arm around my shoulders. There are a million questions running through my head. There's only one thing to say, however.

"What now?" I ask. Jake glances up at the frozen stars before looking back at me.

"I don't know." I sigh and nod. Good answer. Not one I want to hear, though.

"I should probably get back to school," I say, suddenly realizing I've been gone a while. Never mind that I have no idea how to get back- the trains only run so late.

"Ok," Jake replies, nodding. "Hang on- I'll be back in a sec." I nod mutely as he releases me- damn- and hurries into the rink. I stand, staring vacantly at the stars for several minutes until he returns. "Let's go," he says, his arm back around my shoulders.

"Go?" I ask dumbly. He smiles.

"Yeah. Back to school?" he reminds me.

"What about you?" I question. He smiles.

"I'm escorting you home," he explains, and I laugh in disbelief.

"I don't think so," I counter. He raises his eyebrows. "It's an hour train ride just to get there." He shrugs. "Never mind coming back!" He has an unconcerned expression on his face.

"Hey, I don't mind." Oh my god. He's going to take me back to campus. He doesn't mind a two hour trip, just to bring me back. oh my god. He likes me! But there's no way I'm letting him go all that way with me. No way.

"Never mind that I don't think the trains run late enough for you to get back," I add. There. That'll stop it. He shrugs again. No, no shrugging.

"Then I'll stay in a hotel over that way," he replies. What is he doing? Why is he doing this? Well, clearly, he's doing this for me, but. oh my god!

"There are no hotels over there," I point out, realizing my argument is weakening. He's just too determined.

"Then I'll take a cab back. Really, Eliza, I don't care," he insists, and I feel like melting. He squeezes my shoulders. Wow. Can I please die? Because anything after this point is going to be a horrible let down.

"Do you have any idea how much that would cost?" I ask weakly. He shrugs, glancing up at the stars.

"It doesn't matter." It doesn't matter? Because he's doing it for me? What did I do to deserve this? WHAT DID I DO? "I'm taking you home, and there's nothing you can do about it," he teases, and I laugh.

"Fine," I concede happily. He's coming home with me. Wow.

"Let's go," he encourages, and I nod. Yes. The two of us. Let's go. We begin walking, his arm still around my shoulders, down the hill toward the train station. It's so nice and warm, being this close to him, his arm around me. Inspiration hits me, and I carefully extract my hand from my pocket, and wrap my own arm around his waist. Oh, that's a wonderful feeling. He's squeezing my shoulders again. he must like it to. Oh, this a wonderful feeling. I could die.

"You said you're studying art history?" he questions suddenly, and I smile, looking up at him.

"Yes," I reply, nodding.

"I've taken an art history class," he replies, and I look up at him with interest.

"Really? Oh what?" He shrugs.

"It was a survey course in high school," he replies. I laugh.

"That's what I took. That's why I'm studying it today," I explain, and he grins.

"It's pretty fascinating." I nod, and we lapse in silence again. A thought occurs to me. I frantically pull my other hand out of my pocket, and try to pull my coat up far enough to read my watch. What time is it? God, how am I so stupid? What time is it? "What?" he asks, and I look up at him sheepishly.

"Do you have the time?" I ask breathlessly. He nods, and promptly reveals his watch to me. Am I the only person who can't get to their watch when they need to? I examine his. 11:00. Ok. We should be all right.

"What?" he asks again, watching me carefully.

"I wanted to make sure the trains are still running. If we're lucky, there'll be at least one more headed back to campus," I explain. He nods.

"Right. That's kind of important," he agrees. We walk in silence again. It's not long before we reach the train station. There are a couple of assorted people standing on the platform, and Jake and I join them. I turn to him, my arm sliding off his waist.

"I've got a ticket, but you should get one before we board," I tell him. He nods, and releases my shoulders- oh- to go to the ticket machines. I amuse myself by watching the wind play with the snow on the platform. Then I realize I should figure out when the next train comes through. Great. With my luck, we'll have just missed it. I walk over to the schedule board and examine it. Trains. Purchase. what station are we at? Oh yes. And. wow! The next train is in ten minutes. Perfect timing. I check once more, just to make sure I'm not hallucinating. Yep. Good!

I turn to find Jake walking back to me, holding the ticket up for me to see.

"When's the next train?" he questions, sliding his arm around my shoulders again. I love that. I really do.

"Ten minutes," I reply. He nods, stowing his ticket in his pocket. His hand now empty, he wraps it around me. Oh. He's hugging me. Oh, this is so great. I wrap my own arms around him, and we stand like this for a minute. My head resting on his shoulder, one of his arms around my shoulders, the other crossing my back. I could stay here forever, I really could.

He lets go. Oh, that's sad. With a grin, I don't move. I feel him move, and I think he's looking down at me.

"Do I have to move?" I ask with a grin, my voice muffled by his coat. He laughs.

"No," he replies, moving again. Oh, he's kissing the top of my . If I'd known he was going to do that, I would have moved. I'm sure my lips would appreciate it must more than my head did. I reluctantly pull away, my arms still around him, and look up at him. He's smiling, and puts his other hand under my chin, tilting my face up. Oh, this is good. This is very good. He's moving toward me again, and I rise onto my tiptoes to meet him, closing my eyes. Our lips meet again. I could really die right now. I think I'm up to about my forty-fifth time dying tonight, but I really wouldn't care. Anything after this point is going to seem like hell, after this whole evening, so I might as well die while I'm at the peak. Wow. I'm kissing Jake. His hand is leaving my chin, and now it's wrapped around me.

This time I pull away- oh so reluctantly. But I need to breathe. I open my eyes to find his still closed. wow. I was just kissing him. Wow. He opens his eyes, and I smile slightly at him. Maybe that's an endearing smile. It certainly feels like it. He smiles at me.

A loud sound makes me jump. I glance over my shoulder to find the train coming. Oh. Right. We were waiting for the train. That's right. I turn back to Jake. He's looking at the train, too. Reluctantly, I let go of him and turn toward the tracks. He drops one arm and joins me. The train stops, and we get on. The train starts moving before we've sunk into our seats, and Jake nearly loses his balance. I grin at him, and he grins back sheepishly. I drop into a seat, and he takes the one across from me. Oh. That's too bad.

"I don't ride many trains," he admits, and I laugh.

"No, there aren't many trains back home," I agree. Now that I'm sitting again, across from Jake, knowing that he actually likes me, I realize I'm been up since eight. Ick. And I spent most of those 15 hours on my feet. In the city. In the cold. I'm exhausted. I lean my head back against the seat, and yawn. I'm very tired, all of a sudden. Great. Way to get tired when my hockey player is actually escorting me home. Great.

I can't help it, though. So I close my eyes, leaning against the seat. I hear rustling over the sound of the train, and a moment later my seat moves. I open my eyes to find Jake sitting beside me, watching me. I smile wearily.

"Here," he says, putting his arm around me again and tugging me towards him. Oh, he's going to let me use his shoulder as a pillow! I could get used to this. I lay my head down on his shoulder and close my eyes. This is really nice. I yawn again, and he squeezes my shoulder. He moves; oh, he just kissed my cheek. What did I do to deserve this? What, I ask you? I can barely keep my thoughts straight. maybe I'll just take a little nap.

"Eliza?" I open my eyes blearily. What? Oh! Train, Jake, going back to campus. I sit up.

"Hm?" I ask, yawning. He's smiling.

"Sorry to wake you," he apologizes. "I didn't know where we were getting off," he explains, and I nod, glancing out the window. It's too dark to tell where we are. The train begins to slow, and I stare out the window. A sign passes by. I don't know what it says, but it didn't say Purchase.

"Not yet," I tell him, and he nods.

"I didn't think so." I yawn again, and he chuckles. Great. Now I really wish I had Tic Tacs. His other arm comes up and brushes a few stray hairs out of my face. I smile and smooth my hair. Wow. Talk about a disaster. My hair is one big knot. With an apologetic grin at Jake, I pull my hair tie out again and start pulling my hair back. It takes a few minutes of battling, but I finally get my hair into some semblance of a ponytail, and wrap the tie around it quickly. I turn back to Jake. He's smiling.

"It looked fine," he insists, and I shrug. He laughs. "You don't believe me?" I laugh. The train is slowing again. I look out the window- oh, this is it.

"We're here," I tell him, and he stands up quickly. I rise behind him, and we make our way to the door, Jake a bit more shakily than me. We pile out into the sudden cold, and I pull my scarf tighter around my neck.

"Cold?" he asks, and I nod slightly. He wraps his arm around my shoulders again, and I smile.

"This way," I say, steering him toward the hill up to campus. There's a shuttle, but it takes longer than actually walking does. We walk up the hill in silence, and stumble onto campus a minute later.

"Welcome to campus," I say with a grin. He laughs.

"Nice." I roll my eyes.

"Looks better at night," I tell him, and he grins. We walk in silence another minute before we reach my dorm, a stately brick building with all of the lights still on. "And my humble abode," I introduce, and Jake releases my shoulders and takes my hand instead. We approach the door, and I pull out my key. We make our way inside and up the stairs, passing small groups of loud people carrying cups full of stinking, unidentifiable substances. We finally reach the third floor, which is much quieter, and we stop at the door to my room. I lucked out and ended up with a single this year, which I am especially thankful for as I cram my key into the lock. The door swings open and we enter the darkened room. I flip on a light, illuminating my cramped but highly decorative room. I hesitantly turn back to Jake, who has closed the door. This bites. This really sucks.

"Nice," he says with an appreciative smile. I blush.

"Thanks." We stand in an awkward silence for a moment before he releases my hand and pulls me into a hug. Oh. This is so nice, I can't even describe it. I bury my face in his shoulder, wrapping my arms around him. Why does he live so far away? Why did I have to go to school in New York? Why didn't I stay home?

He gently pulls away, and I look up at him. Damn it, this sucks. Why did we meet, only to go on with our lives, in different directions, so soon? Why?

"We've got a game tomorrow night," he says. I nod. "Think you can come?" I shake my head miserably.

"Too far, no way to get there." He looks devastated. I feel devastated.

"Oh," he says, and I look down. This sucks so much. Suddenly, his hand is under my chin again, and I look up. "Don't worry about it," he says, and I try to smile. "I'll call you tomorrow, and we'll figure it out then," he says, and a flicker of hope pops up. We'll figure it out? He wants to work this through? He wants to have a relationship with me? I could jump for joy. I smile. Apparently, my surprise is evident. "I've got to teach you to skate, remember?" he says. I laugh. He smiles. I realize he doesn't have my number, and I slide out from his arms. I grab a post-it note and scribble my cell number down before handing it to Jake.

"Here. My cell," I say, handing it to him. He looks at it and smiles, putting it in his pocket.

"Thanks," he says, wrapping his arms around me again. I feel like giggling. His nearness is intoxicating. Oh. He's moving in again. This time I slide my arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Our lips meet again, and I nearly get lost as I slide one hand up into his hair. He's deepening the kiss. I really think I'm going to die. Even if I wasn't before. I'm definitely going to die right now. His arms tighten around me, and I pull myself closer to him. This is so perfect. oh no, he's pulling away. I breathe heavily for a moment before opening my eyes. He's staring at me. I could get lost in his eyes. I do get lost in them, actually.

"You should get going," I tell him softly, and he nods.

"Yeah." He doesn't move. I can't help but smile.

"So you'll call me?" He nods.

"Tomorrow. Maybe you can come see the game." I laugh, knowing this is about as likely as Jake asking me to marry him right now. In my condition, I would probably say yes.

"Maybe," I agree doubtfully. His hands leave my back and slide up to my face. Oh wow. I can barely breathe. And he's kissing me again. Wow wow wow. I simply clutch at his arms as he deepens the kiss again. Too soon, he's pulling away.

"Tomorrow," he says softly, and I nod, too stunned and amazed and everything else to say anything. He releases my face- oh no- and steps back. I pull myself together.

"I had a great time," I say meaningfully. He breaks into a grin.

"So did I," he agrees, and I take his hand. "I'll call you." I nod, not able to let him walk away. He seems to understand this- maybe he feels the same way? He leans in and gives me a quick kiss. "If I can't see you tomorrow, I'll be back this week," he promises, and I'm dumbfounded. Who is this man who wants to be with me? I must be hallucinating. I must be.

"All right," I say softly, eyes wide, I'm sure. He squeezes my hand before stepping away and opening the door. He slides out it, pausing to smile at me. "Goodbye," I say sadly, forcing a smile.

"Not goodbye," he argues, holding up a hand. "Good night." I smile at this, and he reaches out and brushes my cheek with one finger. Oh. Oh wow. "Good night."

"Good night," I echo, and then he's gone. Oh. What did I do to deserve that? I think I could live this one night over and over again for eternity, and never get sick of it. Wow. And he's going to call me. And come visit me. And teach me to skate. Damn. I think I've fallen for the hockey player.