Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

You've known Jack since he moved in next door years ago. You were freshly 16, just got your license, and felt like you were on top of the world. Then, by either the grace of God or sent straight from hell, a family with three boys were next door. All loud, all athletic and competitive, with gear that could cost more than any college you dreamed of going to in two years. You were lanky, mostly legs, but you used that to your advantage in the sports you did play. Mainly, it was lacrosse. Summers filled with sweltering tournaments, feeling like you were getting frost bite in the spring high school season when it snowed during games and being a spring sport felt like a sick twisted joke.

Quinn was the nicest of the three boys. You saw him more around the high school you went to, shared one or two classes with him. Luke, the youngest, was shy around you, barely making eye contact. Jack on the other hand, the middle boy of the Hughes', was more of the firecracker. He would be cold one second, warm the next. You would chalk that up to either hormones or middle child syndrome, raising your brows unimpressed when he tried (and failed) to chirp you to get under your skin. Maybe that was why you gravitated towards him, because he was a mixed bag, because he was fun.

Jack was a grade level behind you, so he would ask for help with his homework from you and not his older brother. Instead of thinking anything of it, you would agree, even if Quinn was probably smarter than you were at some of the subjects Jack decidedly needed help with. You were always oblivious, the idea of him having a crush on you never crossed your mind. It just wasn't something on your radar. You liked being friends with Jack, it was easy. You two fell into a rhythm, and it was not uncommon for either of you to be at the other's house on any given day when you had free time to the point you could walk into the Hughes household unannounced and drop your bag like you lived there as well. Quinn enjoyed having you around and Luke started making conversation with you as well, not as shy around you anymore.

Jack would try to teach you how to take a slap shot in their garage. You would try to teach him how to pass and catch with you, because having a partner was decidedly more fun than using a wall or rebounder to work on stick skills even if they couldn’t catch all that well. Jack would chirp when you would mess up a shot or whiff it entirely. You would chirp jack when your back-up stick acted more as a racquet instead of a net when he tried to catch and then again when he would pass with enough force for it to be considered a shot. You both would talk about what you wanted, him talking about the NHL, being like Quinn and playing for the development team, you talking about playing lacrosse in college, hopefully going division I, how your dream schools were UNC and Maryland. You both would tell the other that those dreams weren't out of reach.

Rumors tended to go around at school about the two of you. Mostly that you both were dating, which wasn't true. For some reason, though, Jack would get mad about those rumors, acting colder than usual towards you. Which wouldn't have normally bothered you, but you were 16, had self-image issues, and it hurt just a little more than you were ever willing to admit. Because maybe you did have a crush on the middle Hughes brother, if you could call it that. You felt butterflies more often when you caught him looking at you in the hall, or at lunch, or when you both hung out in your free time. Still, he was obviously bothered by rumors that you both were seeing each other, so you never brought it up, never revealed anything on how you really felt.

Maybe all of that was why you both drifted by the end of the school year. Not because you were busy with your lacrosse schedule and he was busy with the end of his hockey season. Quinn was also going to the University of Michigan that coming fall, so you could also say "oh, no, I'm letting him spend time with his college bound brother". Yeah, that was easier than saying "I think he actually hates me because for some reason those rumors that went around about us dating made him really distant and I really hate it."

Jack did catch you one day. It was a Saturday, you were in your backyard taking shot on your goal from a makeshift 8 meter arc made of a mix of very faded spray paint and a few well-placed cones. Neither of you had spoken for a full week. Instead of talking to him, or at least trying to start a conversation over text or in person, you avoided it, not going next door, not offering a ride to school. You just got a sick bar down power shot on cage when Jack cleared his throat behind you.

"Impressive," he mused, arms folded across his chest. He was wearing a Toronto Maple Leaf's shirt, shorts, and a backwards baseball hat. "I could that in my sleep."

You turned, brows raised unimpressed, "I'm sure, J," you replied. Then you picked up another ball, "with a twig, yeah, but I don't think you could with a lacrosse stick."

Jack eyed your stick, then you, then the goal, then your stick again before stepping forward with a hand out. "I got this," he scoffed, rolling his eyes.

You handed him the stick, ball included, "whatever you say."

Jack Hughes, in all his athletic 5'8" glory,  lined himself up at the makeshift 8 meter arc. You watched as he lined himself up very similar to how you did. It became very obvious that he did pay attention when he watched you practice your power shots. From how his feet were set, his hips, to how he held the stick and dangled it behind himself. He took a gallop forward, hips and shoulders rotating, moving to shot and release the ball… only to whiff the goal. Spectacularly. Sailing far off into a neighbor's backyard.

You gave him a slow clap as you watched the ball sail.

"Wow," you tried to hide your laugh, "that was impressive, J."

His head was hung back, a groan escaping his lips. “You make it look easy.”

“I mean,” you shrugged, “you make hockey look easy and I still can’t keep my balance on skates.”

“I’m sorry,” his voice was softer, “for, uh, being weird.”

You looked at him, head tilted slightly before shaking it, “oh, no, it’s fine, I guess.”

As long as he kept coming back, you didn’t really mind when he was distant. You’d probably regret that though.

Chapter Text

Signing day came quickly. It was almost like you blinked and suddenly you were a senior in high school. On that day, you wore scarlet red, not the Carolina blue you thought (prayed) you’d be wearing. The Rutger’s Scarlet Knights had been giddy once you had shown interest in playing for them. You were practically a top 100 recruit in the country. Still, as you looked around, there was something, someone, missing. 

Jack.

Honestly, it was probably your own fault. It had been months, actual months, since either of you had spoken more than in passing. It was like you were strangers again. Like you hadn’t even met at all. Like you hadn’t spent days and nights dreaming about the future together. The future was here now. And he wasn’t there to share it with you. Hell, you didn’t even know if he knew you were signing to play in college. Worse, you didn’t know if he’d care.

Last you had heard, he was dating some girl in his grade. You would see the photos occasionally on Instagram, occasionally snapchat. He seemed happy, truly, so you were happy for him even if it was from a distance. Or at least, you tried to be. Because trying to be happy for him was better than being bitter, even if you did run better on spite. 

It’s not like you’d demand to be back in his life. That would be selfish, and you thought you weren’t that. You always acted the way you wanted to be treated, especially on the field with your team. Always there, always ready, always willing. And maybe that’s why Jack felt like he could walk away from the friendship, because deep down he knew that you’d be waiting. Always waiting. Always willing to forgive. Always ready to give a second chance. It was honestly too bad that he didn’t know that your text thread had been deleted. 

So, you smiled for the photos with the pen in your hand and the paper even if one of the most important people to you was missing. 

And no text came.

Graduation came faster than you thought it would. The end of the lacrosse season, too. Even though you made it to the state championship, it felt like it ended far too fast. It didn’t feel real. You thought it would feel like this grand thing, with a large bow on top. Or maybe it didn’t feel like that because you felt like you didn’t have any one real to share it all with.

Your graduation party you felt like you were waiting for something the whole time. Still, you couldn’t place exactly what you were waiting for. So, you kept brushing the feeling off to stay in the moment. That was getting increasingly more difficult the closer to college move in the calendar got. You tried to soak up every moment you could running around with your friends, making plans, and doing the summer workout packet all before august rolled around.

But it was a day in June that made you stop. You were scrolling on Instagram when you saw it. A familiar face tagged in an official NHL Instagram post. First overall for the 2019 draft. You didn’t even know that was happening that week. And in the photo was Jack Hughes with a dumb smile on his face that you saw all the time when you still spoke. Your heart dropped to your feet when you saw the team he was drafted to. The New Jersey Devils. So your brain did the next logical thing.

Where do the New Jersey Devils play?

How far is the Prudential Center from Rutgers?

You paused your google searches once you realized how crazy what you were doing was. He hadn’t even texted you in months. Why did you care so much about how close he would be? There was also no guarantee he’d play his rookie season, he could stay in Michigan and play another year in High School or play on an AHL team. 

You laughed when that all went through your head. The only reason you knew those possibilities is because Jack had told you them. 

So, in your pause, you sent a text to him. The first in months.

       Congratulations!

And tried not to care if he responded.

Chapter Text

Jack was many things. Cocky was probably at the top of that list. Terrible at answering his phone was another. Which is why he never did answer that text in June. It was still sitting there. He had opened it, had intended on replying. Then Trevor and Cole pulled his attention away and that was that.

You never crossed his mind after that. His brain was all hockey and how he was going to finish high school while being in the NHL. And well, how he was going to compete against the same guys he watched religiously on TV while also living up to the hype that was behind him.

They called him the next big thing. Sometimes he wanted to laugh when he heard it, but he still had all that pride go to his head like it had on draft night when he was pointing out at the crowd like he was the man.

It was early October when he was on his phone in the locker room after a practice. They had played four games already and today was their one-day break between their last game against Edmonton at home and their away game in Boston the next day.
He paused his scrolling when he got to a post by USA Lacrosse. Which was weird because he didn’t even remember following that account, better yet, he didn’t remember why. Still, his eyes stayed on the post. WAY TO EARLY PRESEASON WATCH LIST stared back at him in black bold lettering. His eyes skipped down the list. All names he didn’t know. Until… His eyes stopped at [Y/F/N Y/L/N], Fr., Mid, Rutgers. He knew that name.

He hummed as he read that. He vaguely remembered you saying something about college lacrosse. Something about North Carolina? He couldn’t remember. But he was happy you made it, in a sense.

“Hey, Hughesy,” a voice called next to him, “whatcha lookin’ at?”

Jack shrugged, turning his phone off and flipping it face down on the bench, “just a post. Someone I used to know.”

A hum in response, “anything good?”

Another shrug, “preseason watch list. I dunno, sounds good I guess.”

He never really did understand lacrosse.
-
It was the first week of December when Jack went to a coffee shop near his apartment. It was cold, he was cold, and he was tired. Tired of a lot of things actually. He was staying the fuck away from social media for one. He was so tired of seeing people call him the ‘biggest bust of the year’. Like that would help his confidence. He was 18 and in his first season, why couldn’t he just catch a damn break? Yeah, he held the single season scoring record in the national program, but it wasn’t going to carry over the the NHL. He still needed time to develop. He was smaller than most of the guys he played against. He knew that. They knew that. Everyone knew that.

The coffee place was busier than usual. Which any other day, Jack wouldn’t have minded, but he didn’t want to be perceived that day. He wanted to get in and get out without having a photo taken or someone asking him to sign something.

He let a quiet sigh out as the line moved one step forward. Then his eyes caught the back of someone’s head. He thought he knew that hair. Then the person attached to the hair laughed. He recognized that laugh.

Instead of calling out, he just stared. And kept staring as the person turned around.

It was you. It was really you.

He immediately shoved his hands in his pockets, suddenly sweaty.

“You enjoying the hype?” someone next to you asked, just loud enough that Jack could overhear it. It didn’t seem like anyone actually noticed him still.

You shrugged, tucking hair behind your ear, “kind of? I dunno?” You were holding an iced coffee. Jack did remember that you always liked yours iced, even when it was snowing out.

“You don’t know?” your friend laughed, “I’d love it.”

“It’s just… a lot? I was what? One of like two freshmen on that list? Feels more like a target than anything,” you shook your head, now walking towards the door.

And that door was right next to Jack. His heart did this weird thing as you approached. Was he really hoping you’d notice him? Anyone would be lucky is he noticed them. He shook his head quickly. What the fuck was that thought? Was he really that overconfident in himself?

“You’re gonna do fine. Coaches love you, we all love you. Literally, you could have the worst first game known to man and you’d be fine.”

You laughed, walking… straight past Jack and to the door.

“I hope you’re right,” you said as you and your friend slipped out the door.

And Jack stared at the door as it closed, watching you not look back.

“Hey man,” someone cleared their throat, “you gonna move up?”

Jack looked back, caught off guard, then noticed the line had moved up. “Oh, uh, yeah, sorry.”

Chapter Text

It had been a couple weeks since the coffee shop, which would've been fine if Jack could think about literally anything else. You hadn't even seen him. He liked to think that he was noticeable. He knew he was... on the ice anyways. 

It was a Thursday when he saw you again. You were wearing black sweatpants with a parka that had the Rutger Scarlet Knight logo on it. Your hair was in a bun that had definitely seen better days. It took him right back to being in high school and seeing you after a game. 

Jack, in all his 18 year old glory, had to make a decision. Let you go without knowing he was there. Or, he could say something. Literally anything. 

Hi? No, that would be to casual.

How are you? To open, wouldn't seem like he cared.

Hey, I'm so sorry I kind of ghosted you a year and a half ago even though you were one of my best friends and knew everything about me? ... Too much.

Turns out he wouldn't have a ton of time to think about what he was going to say when he looked to see you were maybe five feet away from him.

"Y/N?" he got out. He tried to sound surprised.

You looked over, a wave of different emotions going across your face.

"Oh, hey..." you definitely knew it was Jack, you just chose to be petty. 

He did what he thought was a great job of keeping the hurt from his face, "Jack, we went to the same high school."

You gave him a nod, "oh... right. You were in one of my classes, yeah?"

It took a lot to not laugh. You knew exactly who was standing in front of you. How could you forget the dinners, the movie nights, the games, and everything that made being his friend easy. 

The tips of Jack's ears were pink as he fumbled to respond. His teammates would laugh if they saw him right now. Unable to comprehend that the girl in front of him was making him work for it. Jack Hughes had seldom needed to work for the attention of a girl. Maybe that was why you seemed to enjoy this.

Then you laughed, and it was like music to his ears.

"Jack, I'm fucking with you. Of course I remember you," you shook your head, "how have you been?"

His brain short circuited for a solid fifteen seconds as his eyes went a little wide.

"I've been good, just... y'know... Hockey and stuff," he got out, he was pretty sure his voice cracked. "You?"

You shrugged, hands going into the pockets of your parka, "busy. Lacrosse season is starting soon. Classes have been good though."

Jack nodded like you handed him the most important information in the world. Then he came to two very important conclusions. The first being he didn't even know your major. The second being he didn't know if he had a place in your life anymore.

He was pulled from his internal struggle when you looked over your shoulder towards who he could only assume were your teammates. 

"Listen, it was good seeing you, but I gotta run," you smiled.

Jack nodded dumbly, "yeah, yeah, of course," he paused, "hey, uh, maybe when we're both free we could... I don't know? Catch up?"

You looked at him, really looked, and Jack's stomach was in his ass.

"yeah, maybe, just let me know," then you turned on your heel and left.

Once you were fully out of the vicinity, Jack ran his hands over his face and let out the most aggressive groan known to man.

"My sister in Christ, were you just casually talking to Jack Hughes?"

You looked up, "Yeah... why?"

"Couple things," your teammates started, "he's hot. Also, he's a pro athlete. How the hell do you know him and why didn't we know?"

You shrugged, "didn't seem too important? It's not like we're close. He's just a guy I went to high school with."