Weston: movie at the hockey house. no party. just food and chaos
I stare at it, thumb hovering but not typing.
My body is tired, my brain is tender, and the idea of people is a lot.
But the thought of staying alone with the name Tyler echoing in my skull is worse.
So I type back:
Harlow: If you yell my name, I’m leaving.
Harlow: Also, I’m not promising I’ll stay that long.
He replies instantly.
Weston: QUIET MODE ACTIVATED
My mouth twitches, and a laugh almost escapes, which feels illegal.
Then I grab my jacket and head out the door.
After surviving the movie with Weston and some of his rowdier teammates, I need a breather, so I decide to call it a night.
The hockey house is conveniently placed right next to the rink, so I decide to see if it’s still unlocked. As I grab the door handle, it must be my lucky day, because it is.
Opening the door, I’m instantly greeted with the cool air and the sound of the Zamboni as it freshens up the ice. I find a seat about halfway up the stands and just take a moment to sit.
Today wasn’t a bad day, but it wasn’t a good day either.
My mind keeps replaying my panic in the bookstore, and each time, I feel slightly worse than I did when it happened.
I wish no one had that type of power over me. Especially someone who is no longer a part of my life. Someone who stole so much from me in such a vulnerable time.
I’d like to say that if something like that were to happen now, it would be different. I’d be stronger. But I don’t know that as a fact.
All I know for sure is that I’m doing the best that I can, trying to take steps forward, but giving myself grace when those steps falter.
A loud noise breaks me out of my thoughts, and I realize that the Zamboni is no longer on the ice and that there are voices coming from somewhere inside the rink.
Just then, a blonde half stumbles out of the hallway leading to the locker room, mascara a mess under her eyes and her hair more than a little messed up. Before I have a chance to call out to her as she’s rushing for the door, a figure appears behind her in the hall.
Sadly, I recognize him.
Coleson.
He’s pulling on his hoodie, his face completely unreadable, and he notices me at the same second I notice him. A look of shock crosses his face before his cocky smirk appears.
“Hey, Harlow,” he says, his focus on me and not on the girl who obviously no longer wants to be anywhere near him. “What are you doing here this late?”
I get a weird feeling in my stomach and decide to pull my phone out, quickly sending Kai a text to come get me ASAP. “Just waiting for Kai. He should be here any minute to give me a ride home.”
Coleson cocks his head to the side, eyes narrowing as my gaze flicks back to the girl, who has now made it outside. “Huh. Last I heard, you were headed to the hockey house for movie night.”
Damn, these hockey players gossip more than us girls.
“I did for a bit,” I say with a shrug, aiming for casual and crossing my fingers mentally that it passes. “Decided to head to bed early, and Kai offered to come pick me up from here.”
He’s been walking closer to me while I talk and is now at the base of the stairs that lead to my seat. My palms start to sweat, and I can’t help the dread that seems to be crawling up my spine.
