squeezed her windpipe closed.
Black and white spots clouded her vision. Then the creature paused. It released her and bounded away as fast as it had appeared. She caught a glimpse of a four legged creature with gray fur stripped with black.
Blood gushed from her throat, soaking the collar of her hoodie. Dizziness and nausea swelled as she explored the ragged skin. A strange concern over the location of her cap floated through her mind before she passed out.
Unfamiliar voices woke Lexa. She squinted into a bright whiteness. The antiseptic smell matched the room’s decor—curtains hanging from a U-shaped track on the ceiling, florescent lights, and cabinets with glass doors.
Lexa touched her neck. Bandages covered her throat. A sharp ache pulsed from underneath the dressing.
The curtains parted and a tall young man entered. He skidded to a stop in surprise. Large splatters of blood covered his ripped white Penn State T-shirt and dotted his white sweat pants. Lexa’s first thought—college student was followed by—jock.
“You’re awake,” he said.
“Who … ” Her voice rasped painfully.
“Don’t talk … Wait.” He dashed away, calling to another.
A nurse bustled in and Lexa wondered if nurses ever just walked or sauntered. The student trailed after her. Concern creasing his forehead, he raked his fingers through his short spiky black hair.
“What—”
The nurse cut her off. She sent the student to the waiting room before asking Lexa questions. Lexa explained about the oversized dog. It didn’t take long.
“Was the dog foaming at the mouth?” she asked.
A vision of sharp teeth flashed in her mind. “No.”
“We’ll test for rabies just in case.” The nurse clicked her pen and wrote on her clipboard. “Miss Thomas, you’re in the Mount Nittany Medical Center’s emergency room. You have a mild concussion and four lacerations in your neck. We put in sixty sutures, administered a tetanus shot, and contacted your parents.”
She groaned.
The nurse continued with a more scolding tone. “You’re extremely lucky. One of the lacerations
Upset parents no longer seemed so bad. “How did I get here?” Lexa asked.
“A student found you and called an ambulance. He’s been here all morning.”
“Can you ask him to come back?”
“Sure. The doctor and the police will also be in to see you.” The nurse left.
“No need to come, Mom,” Lexa said for the seventh time. “I’m fine. It’s a couple of scratches, and I’ll be home in two weeks for Thanksgiving.” Their first holiday without Lauren—hell with turkey and stuffing.
Finally, her mother agreed. Lexa read through Ben’s texts. He’d teased her, assuming she slept in, but when she missed classes, his texts became more frantic. Avoiding another phone call, she texted Ben. Two seconds after she hit send, her phone vibrated with another message from Mr. Lightning Thumbs.
She didn’t have the energy to argue. Besides, she’d need a ride home. Lexa tossed the phone on the table. There was no one else to call. Her roommate, Bubbles the aspiring freshman beauty queen, wouldn’t even notice her absence.
The curtain to her room parted, and the black-haired student entered. A wary concern lurked in his blue eyes as if he was afraid she would yell at him.
“Uh … the nurse said you … ”
“Thank you for helping me,” Lexa said. She gestured to the dried blood on his clothes. “Sorry about bleeding all over you. If the stains don’t come out, I can buy—”
“Don’t worry about it. I get blood on my clothes all the time.”
“Really?”
“Man, that sounded weird.” He crossed then uncrossed his arms as if he wasn’t sure what to do with them. “I play hockey.”
Her first impression of jock had been right. Plus only an athlete would have biceps that defined. “Are you one of Penn State’s Ice Men?”
“Yeah, I’m—”
A police officer stepped into her room. “Miss Thomas?”
She nodded.
“I’m Officer Reed of the State College Police. I’d like to ask you a few questions.” The officer addressed the hockey player. “You can wait at the nurses’ station. I’ve questions for you, too.”
“Yes, sir.” He retreated.
“Are you sure it was a dog that attacked you?” Officer Reed asked.
“Yes. It was gray with black stripes. It was wide and solid, not tall. Big teeth.”
He wrote a few notes in a small book. “Do you know Aiden Deller?”
The name sounded familiar, but she couldn’t place it. “No. Who’s he?”
The officer gave her a tight smile. “He called the ambulance.”
“Oh.” She made the connection. Aiden Deller was a senior forward, and one of the top scorers for the Ice Men. The nickname Ice Men came from the precise, emotionless way they played.
Officer Reed’s next set of questions focused on Aiden and his timely arrival.
“It was an animal,” Lexa repeated. “Ask the doctor who stitched me up.”
“No need to get upset. I’m just eliminating all the possibilities. Dog attacks of this magnitude are extremely rare.” He handed her a card. “Call me, if you remember anything else.” Officer Reed left.
After twenty minutes, Aiden returned. “I overheard the nurses.” He pointed at her neck. “They mentioned a dog?”
“You didn’t see it?”
“No. As I told Officer Reed, I found you lying on the ground. Alone.”
She shivered at the memory. “I don’t think they believe me.”
“What were you doing out that early?” he asked.
Lexa explained about her forecasting shift.
“Meteorology, that’s cool.”
“Most people think it’s geeky.” Including Jason. “What’s your major?”
“Architectural engineering.”
“Wow. I thought—”
“Jocks aren’t smart?”
“No.” She rushed to assure him. “I thought you’d be doing something sports related.”
“Odds of me being drafted in the NHL are slim.”
“But you score a hat trick every game, and last year, you had the best record in the league.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Hockey fan?”
“Sort of.”
Aiden waited.
Lexa felt self-conscience, but she couldn’t let him think she’d lost her mind. “My ex-boyfriend is a big fan. He dragged me to all the home games the last three years, but I haven’t gone this semester. Besides,” she added to avoid sounding pathetic, “it’s impossible to score tickets this season, and I don’t want to be one of those fair weather fans.”
He laughed at the weather pun, but paused as if surprised by his own response. “If you’ve sat through those three horrible seasons, then you’re not at all like those filling the stands now.”
