Tasting My Hockey Roommate Novels & Stories

“University. I tried making instant noodles in the dorm microwave at 2 a.m. during finals week. Forgot the water completely. The whole floor smelled like burnt plastic for days. My roommate still brings it up when we talk. I had to buy her pizza for a month to make up for it. I still can’t look at instant noodles the same way.” I actually laughed out loud, a real one that surprised even me. “That’s good. Mine’s worse. Rookie year. I tried to impress some teammates by cooking pasta for a team dinner. Burned the sauce so bad the smoke alarm went off and the building almost got evacuated. They still call me Smoke Alarm Hayes sometimes in the group chat. I’ve never lived it down.” Sienna laughed

"We're a part of this family now too. Never forget that." I limped to my room after that, my appetite for the dinner delicacy completely gone. Being able to say no to food was a luxury I didn't think I'd be able to afford anytime soon. But now, here I was, living in a castle, and living out my hockey dreams. Unable to sleep, I moved over to my gaming set up, hoping it could as least make my brain tired enough to want to join my whole body for some shut eye. I didn't know how long I had been on the game when I heard the sound of tires crunching against gravel.

I wasn't familiar with most of them. I stepped inside the room, almost blinded by the flashy floating lights. My eardrums almost burst from the loud sound. No wonder I could hear it from miles away. This was my first party in SHL and I was already liking it, save for one tiny inconvenience. Called her 'tiny' because I wasn't about to let her presence ruin the time of my life. I located my hockey buddies. Their face lit up when they saw me, like they had been waiting for my arrival.

ZAYDEN The noise inside the rink seemed strangely muted today, fading into the background beneath the constant buzz filling my head. Sticks clashed against the ice, skates carved sharp lines across the surface, teammates barked instructions at one another, yet everything sounded distant, as though I were submerged beneath water. Like I'd predicted last night, someone eventually noticed the hockey unit had been left open and came in to investigate. Voilà. They found us sharing the same blanket. Even though we'd slept with our backs to each other, not touching, the suspicious glare the man threw us filled my stomach with bile and regret. His eyes had lingered just long enough to make my skin c

she continues, in the tone of someone who is about to be annoyingly reasonable, "it might be good to do something that is not class, the dining hall, or this room. Normal college things." "Traitor." She almost smiles. Americus leans forward. "You know who will be there." My stomach does something complicated. "That is a reason to stay home." "It is a reason to wear something that is not a Yale hoodie for the first time since you arrived." She is already at my closet before I finish processing the sentence. The hockey house sits three blocks off campus on a side street near Ingalls, and we can hear it from half a block away. Bass heavy music pulses through the pavement. Light spills from ever

I thanked him over and over. Later that evening, I remembered there was a hockey game on. “Hey, is the TV going to be used later?” I asked. Riven shook his head. “No, why?” “I wanted to watch the hockey game.” His face lit up. “Wow, we can watch it together! I used to play hockey, you know. Still follow the games pretty closely.” We settled on the couch as the game started. It was fun — we were supporting different teams and kept roasting each other in a friendly way whenever one scored. Riven’s team ended up winning, and he didn’t let me live it down, playfully mocking me the whole time.

More like the feeling before the opening faceoff of a rivalry game—the kind where every nerve in your body woke up because you couldn’t wait to get on the ice. I rolled onto my back and stared at the ceiling for a moment before sitting up. My roommate was already awake, lacing his running shoes. “Morning,” he said. “Morning.” “You sleep?” “Better than I thought.” He laughed. “I think I got about four hours.” “I would’ve been the same a few months ago.” He looked over at me. “What changed?” I smiled as I reached for the bracelet resting against my wrist. “I remembered why I play.” He raised an eyebrow but didn’t ask any more questions. Maybe he thought I was talking about hockey. Maybe I was.

He twisted the plastic cap off one bottle and handed the beverage to me before opening his own. "You have never let anyone push you around on the rink, so watching you completely melt against him while he held your face was a very obvious clue that you were hiding something from us. We have been roommates for three years, Axel, and I literally do not care who you decide to date or sleep with as long as you are happy." "I am definitely not happy," I countered quickly, picking up the blue sports drink and taking a long swallow to soothe my incredibly dry throat.

I can’t help but smile at the touching sight. I notice out of the corner of my eye that the doors to the rink have opened. A few hockey players begin to make their way out, jostling with one another and greeting their friends and family. I find myself searching the crowd again, looking to see if Aiden is nearby as well. My focus is broken when the man next to me elbows me in the side. “Well, well, well,” he says smugly. I look to see what he’s reacting to. That’s when I see the Jumbotron out of the corner of my eye.

I cleared my throat to let him know I was there. He looked at me and said, "I hope you don't mind, Miss Haze. I saw there was some broccoli in the fridge, and I thought you hadn't had your breakfast yet. It's just some broccoli soup." I started to think that having a roommate wasn't such a bad idea after all. "I didn't know there was something in the fridge. I've been very busy lately and forgot to buy groceries. By the way, just call me Haze. No need to use honorifics since it seems like we are around the same age." "Okay, Haze. Have a seat. It's ready," he invited me to the kitchen counter, and as I sat down, he placed a bowl of soup in front of me.