But first? I need another milkshake. Emotional growth requires sugar. Hell, I don't make the rules.
That's just science.
Chapter 15
Zach
Viktor and I trudge across campus, rolling our eyes at all the stupid Valentine’s Day bullshit going on. Coach Harper spent time with me after practice, running through modified puck-handling drills to help with my grip. But then he had a mandatory meeting, so Coach and Viktor’s date got canceled.
And me . . . Well, this love shit just grates on my nerves. Never been into the whole flowers and candy nonsense. Doesn’t serve a purpose.
My other two friends have dates, though I’m not certain what’s going on with Connor. Sure, he shoved his tongue down Veronica’s mouth outside the sports complex. But I wouldn’t be surprised if the police find her body floating in the ocean tomorrow morning.
None of us can get a read on that whole relationship, and he won’t talk about it either. Just says they’re together.
Looking at some of the couples smiling as they walk by hand-in-hand makes me feel . . . hollow. I flex my left hand as we head back to our dorm room, trying to work out the stiffness.
“Still numb?”
I grunt, staring ahead at the empty sidewalk as my boots crunch against the salt crystals meant to melt patches of ice hidden under a dusting of snow.
Viktor shoves his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “You can trust Becks. He’s going to do whatever he can to help.”
“Until he gets jealous or pissed, then exposes my issues.”
“Zach, he won’t.” Viktor nudges me with his shoulder. “Speaking of jealousy, the little cockroach doesn't like me touching you, huh?”
I growl low in my throat, the sound more animalistic than I intend. “Don’t call him that.”
Viktor stops mid-step, his eyebrows shooting up. “Oh, is this a two-way street? You have a thing for him too?”
“No.”
“Bullshit.” He narrows his eyes, grinning like a psychotic clown.
My lips press into a tight line as I focus on how the lampposts cast a dim, golden glow over the frost-covered trees, their branches bare and clawing at the night sky.But he's right. No matter how hard I try to avoid it, Merci’s somehow gotten under my skin in a way I still can’t explain.
“Something happened. I can see it all over your face.”
“Fuck off.”
Viktor places a hand on my shoulder, his expression soft. “Zach . . . come on. Talk to me. Let’s try to make sense of what you’re struggling with.”
My jaw clenches. Sometimes it pisses me off how he understands I might need help trying to make sense of shit because my brain won’t let me do it on my own. “We kissed.”
“Saw that one coming.”
I turn, glaring at him. Fuckhead promised not to make fun, but I caught the goddamn lilt in his voice.
He shrugs. “Just saying, it’s not a surprise, especially after you jerked him off—which, by the way, there was no reason to.”
“Whatever, asshole.”
He snorts. “You didn’t like seeing him in Raiyne’s jersey either. Bet he did it to piss you off, probably make you jealous, which he succeeded at.”
My brows furrow, nose scrunching.
Viktor shakes his head. “All right, let’s walk through this. How did you feel when you saw him in the jerseyshaking his ass? Why did you swing your stick at the plexiglass?”
