Sutton’s date is tonight.
Elliot’s boldnessand lack of filter can be annoying. Like does she really think I could forget about the date when it is stapled to the interior of my eyelids so that every time I blink, I’m reminded that Sutton’s going out with another person that isn’t me? As if she doesn’t see that I care about Sutton?
I know this was the whole point of me helping her, but it doesn’t stop me from wishing that maybe she’d have decided not to go. See my feelings for her.
My phone bounces off my mattress and onto the floor. The brick slips out of my hand far more often than it should.
I run my hands along my jaw and neck. Massage the taut skin that needs shaving, tense with frustration, and overwhelming fear that I’m losing her even more than I already have.
You never had hermy brain screams at me. I want to shake it, tell it it’s wrong, that at one point she was just within a fingers grasp.
This is ridiculous.You are ridiculous.
I should never have told Sutton I’d help her. What was I thinking?
I take a deep drag of air, trying to expand my tightening chest, refusing to answer the rhetorical question.
Luckily—maybe, I don’t know anymore—I have to leave for practice in thirty minutes. As if being on the ice is going to do anything but drag me down a different tunnel of agony.
ESPN’s been hot this week. Longer segments dedicated to NCAA hockey as the tournament peaks over the horizon. Deep dives into team and individual player states. Comparing conferences and light-hearted bets being made about who will win it all. I watched some but had to stop when I got tagged in another comment from someone who hides behind their phone, believing they know more about a specific play than Coach, I turn off that feature on social media. That’s progress, I tell myself.
We had two days off this week. Neither of which I went to the ice or stuck around the weight room, which I would have done before this semester. Ignoring my phone on the ground, I change and head to the arena.
Jaxon tosseshis practice jersey into the laundry bin in the center of the locker room. Slumping onto the bench next to me, he reaches behind himself into his locker to grab his phone.
“Kappas are throwing a party tonight. You in?”
I shake my head no, lacking the care to remotely sound interested. Usually I can, but not tonight.
My stomach somersaults, but not in a good way. I’m a can of soda, shaken up at the thought of going to a party, flirting and interacting with people I don’t want to be around.
Disappointment is all over Jaxon’s face. I hate it, but it doesn’t change anything.
Bending over, I unlace my skates.
“You haven’t been out with us once this semester, what’s up, dude?” he asks as he continues to take off his gear.
“Too busy doodling Sutton’s name in a heart,” Beck quips, though his features are stone.
“Not true.” Okay, maybe, but it only happened once in fourth grade. I swear. And I had perfected my Superman S.
She isn’t the only reason I haven’t been out this semester. Is my free time being taken up by her case study or coaching her on dating? Yes. Is the remainder of the minutes I’m awake—who am I kidding, even the minutes spent sleeping—consumed by her? Also yes. Call me pathetic, but being consumed by her is far better than the ugly monster living and roaring in the dark corner of my brain. Remembering that tonight is her date is probably why I woke up being swarmed by a dark cloud.
I’m mentally on empty, and there isn’t a gas station anywhere near where I’ve stranded myself. That I’m to blame for. One can only pretend for so long before it catches up to you.
Slowly, I’m making my way back. I can sense it.
“Will you at least come grab a bite with us?” My best friend levels me with a look. His green eyes speak everything he isn’t.
Can you see through me?
I want to ask him. Maybe even beg him to. I want to tell him the truth. I want to be the friend he deserves, the guy he met freshman year when we were assigned as roommates.
“Sure.” I give him a weakening smile.
There’s joy on his face. The way he throws an arm around me, dragging me into him part side hug, part noogie. The laughter that rattles in his chest begins to fill my tank.
Jaxon was insistent on trying the new wing flavors at this restaurant downtown. It’s been open for several months, but I’ve yet to go. Cool atmosphere, and the beer is cheap.
