She walks away with a very obvious pep in her step.
She’s definitely going to do something.
"I don't want to cause more problems than I already have,” I groan. “This is a disaster.”
"You didn't do anything wrong," Ashton says.
But that doesn't matter. Not to Bree. Not to the rumor mill that's already churning. And definitely not to Declan, who's going to see whatever twisted version of this she decides to show him.
“Talk to him, Ashton. Make sure he knows nothing was happening. I know Declan. When he’s like this, he’s not going to be seeing clearly. I don’t want the two of you fighting over something that isn’t even true.”
“I will. It’ll be fine.”
I turn and walk away before I can do anything else to make this situation worse. My heart is pounding. My hands are shaking.
This is exactly what I was trying to avoid. More drama. More hurt. More reasons for Declan to hate me.
I pull out my phone as I walk, my fingers hovering over his name in my contacts. I should text him. I want to warn him. But what would I even say? Hey, Bree probably just sent you a photo that makes it look like I'm hooking up with your best friend, but I swear it's not like that.
I can't. I just can't.
I shove my phone back in my pocket and walk faster, like I can outrun the mess I've made of everything.
It’s too late to transfer to a new school. And Declan isn’t going anywhere.
The next few months are going to be hell.
Chapter Five
DECLAN
Ifeel like an animal. Every one of my senses is on high alert. All the anger and frustration that’s been building all week is coming out in my gameplay.
I get to beat the shit out of players and the puck, and it’s all legal. I know Coach thinks I’m playing better because of the camp over the break. Camp taught me a few things, but this is all raw fury.
That's the only good thing I have to say about the last two weeks. I've been playing the best hockey of my life. Not pretty hockey. Not controlled. The other kind. The kind that comes from having nothing left to protect. I’m not trying to be careful.
Ashton takes a hard hit into the boards.
“What the fuck, Hayes?” He skates toward me. “You couldn’t block that?”
“Oops.”
Yeah, I saw the picture. Actually, I saw the video. My best friend, who encouraged me to end things with my girlfriend, was seen hugging said girlfriend days later.
“Dick,” Ashton mutters.
I skate away. The rest of the game goes by in a blur.
We win by two.
Ashton finds me on the bus ride back, drops into the seat next to mine, and doesn't say anything for twenty minutes. Finally, he exhales and turns to face me.
"I gave Sutton a hug because she was upset," he says. "That's it. Nothing else happened. Nothing else was going to happen. For one, she’s not my type. And second, dude, you’re my best friend. I would never do that."
I stare out the window at the dark highway.
"She loves you," he continues. "That hasn't changed. She's miserable."
