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I just want this nightmare to be over.
I don’t want to keep lying to people.
A single tear breaks through my defenses, and I wipe it away as the hallway intersects with a wider, busier one.
I should just find a place to sit for a few minutes, then I can go back upstairs and pretend to enjoy myself.
There’s another turn ahead of me. I’ll round the corner and lean against the wall there, act like I’m waiting for someone.
The noise level increases as movement echoes through the hall. And that should’ve been my warning.
As soon as I turn the corner, I know I made a mistake.
Hockey players.
I almost walk right into the moving mass of Sleet players, decked out in all their gear, larger than life walking on their skates.
I jump back.
I literally jump back around the corner and backpedal as fast as I can.
Straight into a body.
We both go down.
My elbow bangs against the wall, but I manage to land on my butt. While it sends a jolting sting up my tailbone, it prevents me from cracking a joint on the unforgiving floor.
But the sound of pain from the man who went down with me says his fate is different.
“I’m so sorry,” I say as I shift to look at whoever I crashed into.
And then I pause, because I’m staring into a giant, grinning yeti face.
It’s Blizz, the Sleet mascot.
It’s Blizz.
I knocked over Blizz, and he’s gripping his ankle with both hands.
This isn’t good.
“Oh no,” I whisper as he groans. “Oh fuck.”
“I’m so sorry,” I say again. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” I can hear the wince in his voice. “Just gotta walk it off.”
“Alright. Okay.” I use the wall to get to my feet, then I hold out my hands to help him up.
Big furry paws grip my hands, and the man gingerly gets to his feet.
Then he crumples against the wall, lifting one foot off the ground.
“I can’t—Fuck.” Still leaning against the wall, he yanks his head off, revealing the face of a pained man in his twenties. “I think it’s sprained.”
“I’m sorry,” I squeak, my fingertips pressing against my cheeks.
“What do I do?” His eyes are wide.
