“Still should’ve had it.”
“You should’ve cleared the rebound.”
“I was tied up!”
“That’s the point, Cal. You get tied up too easy. You need to be stronger on the puck.”
He sits back, offended. “I’m plenty strong on the puck.”
“You got walked by their fourth-line center.”
“Once!”
“Twice,” Zephyr corrects.
“You’re both assholes.”
I almost smile.
But then my eyes drift back to the house. The porch light is on. No movement. No sign of her.
My jaw tightens.
“Seriously though,” Callum says after a beat. “What’s the plan here? We just stare at her house all night?”
“If we have to,” I say again.
“This is ridiculous. We should have just followed her. She’s clearly not coming home.” He leans forward, resting a hand on my shoulder. “Just admit it, Jax. You were wrong.”
“Get out and walk home.”
Callum scoffs. “Hell no.”
“Good cardio.”
Zephyr checks his phone. “We’ve been here almost an hour.”
An hour. And nothing.
I hate this. I hate sitting here. I hate not knowing if she’s okay. I hate that she walked away like we were nothing. Like we couldn’t help her.
“Alright, I’m calling it,” Callum says. “She’s not coming home. Can we please go? I’m starving, and I have homework.”
“You have homework?” Zephyr turns around. “Since when do you even care, Cal.”
“Since I’m trying not to fail out of school.”
I glance at the house one more time. Then I turn the key.
“Fine.”
Callum cheers from the back seat.
We drive back to Callum’s in silence and drop him off at his place.
He leans through the window before heading inside. “Text me if anything happens.”
“Yeah.”
