I bite the inside of my cheek, continuing, “I like the mask—I do. But I think …” I trail off, swallowing my fear. “I want more too. I want to see your eyes. Kiss you—reallykiss you.”
“I’m sorry … I’m sorry. Soon, okay?Reallysoon.” Genuine, raw pain vibrates in his soft voice.
I’m nodding before I even mean it, but I just don’t want to ruin what we already have. “Okay.”
“Okay?” he murmurs like he doesn’t believe me.
“Okay,” I state matter-of-factly.
When he spins me in his arms, a giggle slips free from my lips. He cups the back of my head and pulls meagainst him, his scent invading my nose, and I breathe him in deeply.
“I wish I could stay here forever.” His words fill my heart to the brim with emotion.
“Me too.”
Eventually, he peels himself from my body. A few minutes later, he’s gone, and I’m alone with Freddie, feeling his absence like a physical hole in my chest while I crawl into bed, burying myself under the blankets.
Freddie whines, and I know he probably needs to go out. I could procrastinate for a few minutes, but I know by then, I would want to get up even less.
When I throw the blanket off of my legs, he lights up and rushes down his ramp. My phone falls off my lap and plummets to the floor, somehow bouncing across the room and landing in front of my closet.
Walking over to it, I bend down to pick it up, but something glints from the slit between the slightly opened closet door, reflecting the light from my ceiling. I wouldn’t second-guess it, except the only thing on the floor right there is my other laundry basket.
What is that?
Reaching into the closet, I close my fingers around the metal, plucking it from the depths. It’s a broken piece of a key chain.
I flip it over in my hand, and my blood runs cold.
Time stands still, and the world slams to a stop as I take in exactly what I’m looking at.
No. No. No.
This has to be a prank or something, some messed-up kind of joke. It doesn’t make any sense.
I’m hallucinating. That’s it. I must be because there’s absolutely no way what I’m seeing is real.
Deep down, in the parts of my mind I’m not ready to accept, I know the truth is staring me in the face.
Clenching the jagged metal key chain in my palm, I push myself up and tuck it into my pocket. Hopefully, the cameras didn’t pick it up. I don’t know how I’m going to handle this tidbit of information just yet, but I don’t want to count out any reactions before I decide.
I wander downstairs, trying to seem casual, and let Freddie out.
I want to look at the key chain again, to be sure of what I saw, but I don’t need to. The image is burned into my mind so vividly that I’ll never forget it.
Two small, crossing hockey sticks, broken apart at the middle. I may not be able to see the top of both sticks, but with the partial name and number engraved onto one of them, I know enough.
–s Finnegan #14.
My mind runs rampant as Freddie frolics in the snow. I feel like every cell in my body is vibrating, pulsing with anger, confusion, and loathing—mostly for myself.
How am Ithis muchof an idiot? It’s like the wool has been pulled back from my eyes, and everything finally makes sense, in more ways than I ever anticipated.
The run-ins at the arena …oh my God… and Bound-to-Be.
Did he go there just to get a laugh? To poke fun when I didn’t even know about the joke?
Is this all some kind of game to him?
