“You’re not fine. You haven’t made a single clean pass all morning.” He’s studying me now, concern replacing annoyance. “Is it Juliette? Did you guys fight?”
“No. We didn’t fight.”
“Then what?”
“It’s nothing. Just personal.”
Almardon skates over, stick tapping against the ice. “If it’s affecting your game, it’s not personal.”
I look at them. My best friends. My teammates. And I want to tell them. Want to explain about Sienna and the messages and how I’m terrified I’m going to lose Juliette over something I didn’t even do.
But Barrett’s whistle cuts through the air, sharp and demanding.
Practice continues and I try to pull it together, but all of my focus is on Sienna’s threat. Her words playing on repeat in my head.
I’ll find your girlfriend and tell her everything.
After practice, I turn my phone back on in the locker room. The screen lights up with notification after notification.
Twenty-three new messages. All from different numbers. All Sienna.
You can’t ignore me forever.
I’m coming to the facility. Today.
I’m going to find her and tell her what kind of man you really are.
You had your chance to stop this. You chose wrong.
See you soon, Romeo.
I’m going to be sick. Actually going to throw up right here in the locker room.
I pull up Juliette’s contact and call her. It rings four times and goes to voicemail. Her voice cheerful and recorded.
“Hey, it’s me. Can you call me back? It’s important. Like really important. Just call me when you get this.”
I hang up and immediately text her.
JuJu, please call me. I need to talk to you about something.
JuJu
I’m about to start a class. Can it wait?
Not really. It’s about—fuck, I can’t explain over text. Can you come find me after? I’m in the locker room.
JuJu
Romeo, you’re scaring me. What’s going on?
Just please come find me. As soon as you can.
I sit in my locker stall with my head in my hands, trying to figure out how to explain this. How to tell her that my ex is threatening to come here. That I had coffee with Sienna and didn’t mention it. That I fucked up. That I’m sorry. That I’m so fucking sorry.
Almardon sits down next to me. The bench creaks under his weight. “Okay, seriously. What’s going on?”
“My ex is threatening to come here and talk to Juliette.”
