Beer and sweat made a heady mix that hit Silver like a wall the moment she stepped through the front door of the hockey house.
The colonial-style building that served as unofficial headquarters for Yale's hockey team had been transformed into a celebration zone that barely resembled a place where people actually lived. The air buzzed with bass-heavy music that thumped from speakers someone had dragged down from upstairs, red solo cups scattered across every available surface like plastic confetti. Bodies moved through the tight spaces in an endless tide of navy blue and white, students still wearing their game-day gear mixed with others who'd changed into party clothes that would inevitably be stained with beer foam before the night was over.
