It takes me longer than I thought to write it out, but perfect timing because Michael is getting hisI’m sorrypizza from Mia.
“Ready?” I spin out of the way. “Ta da.” In the middle of the heart isS + C. “You know, for you and me.”
“I get it,” she bites back. I can’t tell if she’s stifling a smile or laugh. “Couldn’t spell?”
“Nah. I’m hungry. I call dibs on eating the S.”
“Fine. I guess I’ll eat the C.”
“You can taste me any day, Dave.” She bursts out laughing, and I’m right there with her. “That was not what I meant.”
We devour our pizza, cutting it into four large slices, forcing us to fold them like tacos to eat, while the movie finishes.
“Guess what,” Sutton says, dabbing the corner of her mouth with a napkin.
“You’re finally ready to admit you broke your grandma’s antique vase.”
“Never. Izzy is dating Dylan.”
I almost choke on my crust. Coughing, I pretend to be shocked. Surprised at this unfortunately not new information. Honestly shocked they’re still together. “Are you okay with that?”
“I think so. That was years ago, and I never see either of them anymore.” At her response I drop the topic and start cleaning our cooking space.
The bubble we were in the previous three hours pops as soon as I cut the ignition. Heat fiddles out, the cold air outside cools the space between us. Sutton bids me a good night, declining my offer to walk her to the door.
I stick around, watching till she’s inside and vanishes up the stairs.
THIRTEEN
COOPER
Sutton askedme to meet her at the rink. It’s been a week since our what felt real but was only a practice date, and I’ve barely seen her. We met once last week for a session, but because of a game we had to reschedule our second one.
We got destroyed in that game, asses handed to us, and social media had a field day. I don’t know what they are trying to get out of tagging me in negative videos and tweets. I’d tell them to say it to my face, but they have. Either way it worked. Mission accomplished.
During our post-game interview, several reporters threw passive aggressive questions my way. Coach had to step in, but I was in my head the entire bus ride home. Slumped against the windows, headphones in, and jacket hood pulled tight over my head. Day after looked the same. Shutting myself off from the world, including Sutton. I cancelled on her, again, but I’m hoping to make up for it today. Coach gave us the day off after a grueling practice last night.
The walk from my car to the entrance of the arena is brutal. Temperatures dropped this morning, even dipping into negatives with the windchill.
Our arena is an angular building, modern in comparison to the rest of campus. Large glass windows and clean steel instead of brick covered in ivy. Banners of Tatum, a senior defenseman, Beckett, and myself are in three rectangular windows to the left of the doors. To the right are three players from the women’s team.
Sutton’s outside, one hand is stuffed into a long puffer jacket, ankles crossed with a tote bag from her collection leaning against her shins, an old Bears Women’s Hockey gear bag slung over her shoulders. Her free hand grips a hockey stick.
As I get closer, I spy soft pink lips ticked up at the corners, kissable and mischievous, and chin tilted up at my larger than life body.
“I can get you a signed copy if you’d like. I’m sure there’s a life-size poster around here somewhere you could tape above your bed.”
“Perfect. I’ve been looking for a new dartboard.”
“I thought I was done with the whole ‘overtraining.’” I air quote overtraining. My tone half joking, half serious.
“You are.” Vibrant hazel eyes level me with a stern look. “This is different.”
I scoop up her tote and offer to take her duffle as we head inside. Sutton admits to having scheduled an appointment with her physical therapist to get cleared to skate again when I stare for too long at her lacing up her skates. I guess my roommates took her skating over the weekend. While jealousy combs through me, I’m happy that she’s found a family here. People she can trust.
I want her to trust me again.
Even though our friendship is on the mend, there are still stitches needing sewn, conversations we need to have.
