I nod. If only I could find out what really happened last year. Like, exactly what Jordan said. Do you think there’s a file on his case?
We’re just outside the arena now. Becks puts a hand on my shoulder. Nellie, there is certainly a file, and what’s even more certain is that you’re never going to get access to it. So, if your brother won’t tell you exactly what happened, and your boyfriend can’t tell you, do you know what you have to do?
My throat tightens as I swallow. What?
You’re going to have to decide who to believe. You’ve spent all this time living in this la-la land, where there are no villains. But you know that can’t be true. Becks is at her bossy best.
Who do you think is telling the truth? I ask.
It doesn’t matter what I think. It’s about what you believe, she replies.
But honestly, I don’t want to choose sides. I love my family. And maybe I don’t love Mats yet, but what we have is something full of possibilities.
We practise, and I put my all into it. No matter how fucked my life is, hockey is the one thing I can rely on.
20
QUEEN OF DENIAL
MATS
I’M IN MY ROOM STUDYING WHEN THERE’S A KNOCK ON MY DOOR.
Yes?
Ethan pokes his head in. Yo, Mats. Are we allowed to let women in to see you now?
What are you talking about?
He smirks. Cleo’s here. But I wasn’t sure if we were still protecting you from attention of the female persuasion.
You didn’t leave her on the front step, did you? I demand.
Guess you’ll have to find out. Fucking Ethan. He disappears, and I hurry downstairs.
Luckily, Cleo is in the living room, watching the Minnesota Wild game with Bergy and Swanny. I can hear her complaining about a call before I even see her, and it makes me smile.
But when she turns to face me, her smile isn’t as sunshine-y as usual.
Hey. Everything okay? I ask.
Yeah, fine. I just wanted to talk. Have you got a few minutes?
Of course. Let’s go to my room.
Make sure the Wild win, she calls back to the guys, and they grunt in agreement. Cleo fits in here so easily; everyone can relax around her.
We sit side-by-side on my bed. But she doesn’t say anything, which is pretty unusual.
So, what’s up? I prompt.
I need a hug. She looks at me with a seriousness I’ve not seen before.
I wrap my arms around her and pull her into me. At first, she’s almost stiff in my arms, but eventually, she relaxes and lets her head fall against my shoulder. I can smell the soapy fragrance of her skin and feel the solid muscles in her arms, but instead of being aroused, I’m worried. She seems smaller, less energetic than usual.
After a minute of holding her in silence, I’m really anxious. What’s wrong, Cleo?
She pulls away and shakes her head. Just a bunch of family crap.
