I rolled my eyes and told her she was being preposterous, but the truth was, I had hoped she was right. I even let myself get all worked up over it as I got ready for our night out. I felt so silly getting dolled up for a hockey game, and now that I’m sitting in the bleachers, I know I was right to feel that way.
A group of girls sitting two rows below me turned around and snuck a glance at me. I’ve officially lost count of how many times they’ve done it.
“Is she seriously going to come toallhis games? Like, can she not take a hint? He plays so much better when she’s not in the stands.”That wasn’t true. He’s even said he plays better with me here.
“I bet she’s wearing the biggest size jersey they sell.”I wasn’t, not that it should matter if I were, but their words still hurt because it was just another reminder that I wasn’t good enough for Callum or his world.
“He’s just fucking her because he feels bad for her. That’s all.”Considering my virginity was still intact, that one made me laugh.
I pretend I don’t notice their stares and snickers and focus on the ice, where Callum just jumped over the boards for his shift. He pushes his legs hard, catching up with the play easily, and I hold my breath as he checks an opponent hard into the glass. The guy doesn’t take too kindly to it, and he gets right in Callum’s face. I can see their mouths moving, but I can’t make out what’s being said.
It doesn’t matter, though, because suddenly Callum shoves on his back, and the other player goes sprawling to the ice. The rink explodes, half the people cheering, the other half wanting a penalty as the training staff runs over to check on him. It takes a few minutes, but he gets up on his own, and the away teamgets the call they were looking for. The home crowd boos as they announce that Callum has to sit in the box for five minutes.
“I’m telling you, she’s a curse on him,” one of the girls from earlier says loud enough for me to hear.
But that’s not what has my attention. I’m too busy watching my boyfriend in the penalty box, his head hanging low as his team goes down a man and has to fend off a five-minute power play. Much to the team’s dismay, it’s a brutal five minutes, with the other team scoring twice and officially taking the lead. They’re unable to recover, and the game ends 5–3 with the win going to the out-of-towners.
I can tell Callum’s mad as he skates off the ice, and I try to rack my brain for what could have happened while I wait for him outside the building. I watch his other teammates leave as I stand there, a few of them sending me glances, but nobody says anything to me. They hardly ever do.
When he finally comes walking out thirty minutes after the game ends, his hockey bag slung over his shoulder, he spots me immediately and walks my way. He moves in to kiss me, but I turn my cheek. I have way too many questions to let myself get distracted by his kisses.
“Everything okay?” he asks.
“Um, no. What the heck happened out there? What was that?”
“It was nothing,” he says, grabbing my hand and tugging me toward the parking lot. “Are you ready? We don’t want to be late. The restaurant won’t hold our table much longer.”
“Okay, I know, but, Callum…tell me what happened. You didn’t cross-check him like that for no reason.”
“It wasn’t a big deal, Clover. Just hockey stuff.”
Except he’s not looking me in the eyes as he says it. He’s lying. I stop, and since he has his arm slung around me, he stumbles, barely catching himself.
“Shit, Chloe.” He moves to stand in front of me. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”
But I don’t say anything. I don’t need to. Callum knows.
He sighs, pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose. “Come on, Clover,” he begs quietly. “Can’t you see I don’t want to rehash it? I just want to move on and have a good night. We have reservations, remember?”
I know we do. It’s our first anniversary. How could I forget marking the best day of my life so far? But in this moment, I don’t care about it. I just want to know what was so bad that he took that penalty.
“What did he say to piss you off?” I ask him. “Was it…” I gulp. “Was it about me?”
He closes his eyes, and it’s all the answer I need. It’s just like those girls who were whispering about me earlier. I had really hoped bullying would be left behind in high school, but that hasn’t been the case since we began dating. At first, I thought I could handle it. It was a few comments here and there, usually about how “he could do so much better.” But as the months went on and people realized it wasn’t just some fling, things got worse.
I think the worst part was that while Iknewit was because the girls were jealous that I was Callum’s girlfriend and they weren’t, it didn’t matter. The words still stung and planted themselves in my brain to the point that I almost started to believe them. Then he would give me one ofthose looks,and everything would be okay.
Right now, though, it doesn’t feel okay.
“What did he say?”
Callum closes his eyes. “Please don’t make me repeat it.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s not true!” he explodes, tossing his hands into the air. “It’s not fucking true, and I don’t see the point indiscussing it anymore. Now, come on. I want to go to dinner with my girlfriend.”
He reaches for me again, but I sidestep him.
