Amelia narrowed her eyes. “If you say so.”
“Moving on,” I said. “Do you want to catch a movie this week? That new rom-com, Kiss Me, just came out. It looks super cute.” With the way things were going, I could definitely use the escapism of a happily ever after with a side of movie theater popcorn and giant bag of candy.
“Um…I don’t know.” She looked away, setting her mug down. “I’m pretty busy with this group project I have for Developmental Psych, plus there’s a game on Tuesday night. And I think I might go for dinner with Paul on Thursday. I’m pretty booked. Sorry, B.”
“Okay. How about we do something tomorrow or Wednesday then?” I took a bite of my cereal, finishing the last of it and debating whether she would judge me for drinking the strawberry milk from the bowl. Then I did it anyway, because I no longer cared.
She fidgeted with the sleeve of her yellow sweater, picking off a piece of lint with her gold-painted nails. “I have to work on that project then too.”
Uh-huh.
Fine. I would ask Zara and Noelle.
“Is this about me and Luke?” I asked, setting down the bowl. “Breakups aren’t contagious, Amelia. You can still hang out with me.”
“No…” She trailed off, wincing. There was a long pause before she continued. “It’s just that Paul is really pissed about the whole Carter thing.”
What on earth? Who the hell was Paul to be angry with me for anything? We were barely even friends.
“Who I hang out with is none of Paul’s business. Like, literally zero percent.”
“He sees it as being disloyal to the team.” Amelia took a sip of coffee, hiding behind the gigantic mug so she didn’t have to meet my eyes.
I gritted my teeth. “I didn’t realize I was a part of the team. Which position do I play?”
“You know what I mean,” she said. “Luke is one of his best friends.”
And I was supposed to be one of hers.
“But it’s fine for Luke to be disloyal to me as a person?” I snorted. “To dump me on my birthday, after having probably cheated on me again? I don’t see anyone giving him grief.”
Of course they wouldn’t. He was team captain; practically their god. It was a high school clique dynamic to a T, and he was the ringleader. Then it hit me: Luke was the mean girl of the Bulldogs. He was Regina George. On skates.
“Please don’t put me in a position where I have to choose, B.”
I stood up and put my bowl and spoon in the dishwasher. Slamming it shut a little harder than necessary, I turned back to her. “I’m not the one who’s doing that,” I said. “Your boyfriend is.”
OceanofPDF.com
CHAPTER 12
OceanofPDF.com
I REMEMBER
Chase
The week was well underway, and I hadn’t heard from Bailey yet. Maybe I never would.
“You saw her again, didn’t you?” Tyler asked, pulling on his black undershirt. We’d hardly seen each other since the game on Saturday. He had been practically living on campus, working overtime on a group project for one of his accounting classes. Unlike me, his dedication to high performance on the ice also extended to his grades.
“Who?” I fought a yawn. Breakfast skates were brutal. Six a.m. was too early to be awake, let alone on the ice.
“The girl from XS. James’s sister.”
“How do you know that?”
“I saw you go up to her after the game, dumbass. Is that why you bailed on our place? And on meeting us at O’Connor’s?”
Avoiding his probing gaze, I grabbed my stick from the rack. It was trashed from the game on Saturday. I scraped it across the black rubber flooring near the doorway, removing any leftover tape residue from the bottom edge of the blade.
“Kind of.” I secured the black cloth tape to the heel of the blade and methodically wound it around, working over to the toe end. “It’s a long story.”
It really wasn’t. By the time I dropped Bailey off at home, it wasn’t even ten, and my friends were expecting me to meet them. But I wasn’t in the mood to get shit-faced at a pub while yelling to be heard over loud music. Maybe I was too sober to see the appeal. I got halfway there and made a detour for home instead, which marked the first time I’d stayed in on a Saturday in my entire college career. It wasn’t that bad, actually. And for once, I was in great shape for Sunday’s dryland training.
He smirked. “I bet.”
“Nah, not like that.” I ripped the tape off from the roll and rubbed the end down with my thumb so it laid flat against the blade.
“Why not? Couldn’t close?”
I shook my head, carefully smoothing the tape. “That wasn’t the point. We were hanging out as friends.”
“You. Friends with a chick.” He laughed, sliding a foot into one of his skates. “Right.”
“Why not?”
“Do you want the reasons in alphabetical or chronological order?”
“Hilarious.” I placed my stick back on the rack by the door. Sitting down on the bench, I grabbed my skates from my equipment bag and loosened the laces. “How was O’Connor’s, anyway?”
“Fine. Same old.” He reached over, attaching his skates to his red and white leg pads. “But speaking of female ‘friends,’ Kristen was pissed you didn’t come.”
I tightened my skates, glancing back up at him. “Why? I didn’t have plans with her.”
“She seemed to think otherwise.”
“I haven’t even talked to her since spring.” It had been well over four months, almost five. We weren’t a thing. Never had been. This was why repeat hookups were a bad idea.
And after what Kristen had done, she’d guaranteed there would be no encore.
Ty shrugged. “I never said chicks made sense. Just letting you know.”
I made a mental note to avoid her. Or to continue to, anyway.
“By the way…” He angled closer, lowering his voice. “Word has it there will be a couple scouts at the game on Saturday.”
I glanced around to see if anyone else was listening. They were too engrossed in some story that Justin, a sophomore defenseman, was telling. It involved a raw steak and male nudity. I didn’t want to know any more than that.
“How’d you hear about that?” I asked.
“I have eyes and ears everywhere.”
It was true. Ty was freakishly in tune with the goings-on of NCAA hockey; injuries, scouts, who was signing with whom. “I’m giving you a heads-up in case the intel is correct. I’m not telling everyone, though, so keep it between us and Ward.”
“Roger that.” We were playing New England U this weekend. They were having a hot start to the season so far, but maybe that was a positive; I generally played better against strong competition.
“Make sure you don’t choke.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I said, standing up. “You’re a peach.”
“Anytime.”
After class, I headed to Starbucks downtown to meet my mom for coffee. She’d been called into the city last minute on a work emergency. Funny how she managed to come in for that but rarely ever to see me. I should have been used to it by now, but the sting never fully went away.
I walked up to the corner where she’d taken a table and two chairs next to a fireplace. She’d already ordered us both coffees. “Hey, Mom.”
She stood and wrapped me in a big embrace infused with her familiar floral perfume. “How are you, honey?” She held me out at arm’s length, inspecting me for a moment before releasing me.
“Good. How about you?” I pulled out the small metal chair and sat. My knees pressed up against the underside of the tabletop. The whole set, made for average-sized people at most, was about two sizes too small for me.
“Oh, keeping busy,” she said. “Work has been hectic, and Rick got a big promotion last month.”
“That’s great.” I tried, and failed, to sound like I meant it. My stepfather, Rick, and I weren’t exactly poker buddies. We had never gotten along. I was sure he would have greatly preferred if I didn’t exist. But he made my mom happy—mostly, at least—which was what ultimately mattered to me.