I pull back slightly, confusion flooding my body. “Yes.”
“Then you didn’t see the look on her face when she did it.”
My stomach caves in on itself. That doesn’t make sense. None of what just happened makes any sense. “Why would she do that?”
My mom flashes me an earnest look, tipping her head as she says, “You tell me.”
I shake my head, trying to argue back. To point out how ridiculous the idea is. There’s no way Peyton would get a misconduct just to ram Brenna off the ice… right?
“You need to call an Uber,” Mom continues.
My eyes snap to hers. “What? But I—”
“Darcy,” she says, so firmly it sends a chill down my spine. “When this game ends, you’re going back to the hotel. I don’t want this turning into a circus, and I definitely don’t need the media poking around or Brenna trying to make a scene. This isn’t the time for you to play ‘Angry Coach’. Understood?”
Her eyes lock on mine, unblinking, and I know there’s no room for argument. So I just nod, and look back to the penalty box.
“Okay.”
“Can you please stop playing that?” I mutter, tipping my head into my hands as Cleo, for what must be the twentieth time since FaceTiming me, plays that damn video again on her laptop.
The clip’s already gone viral. Peyton slamming into Brenna in slow motion, the frame spinning on impact. There’s a dreamy haze filter over it, the audio some trending hip hop song, and Brenna hitting the ice right as the beat drops.
It’s really fucked up.
Cleo smirks, barely bothering to hide it, and shuts her laptop.
“What?” she says innocently. “They said she’s fine. No concussion or anything.”
I glare at her through my fingers. She lifts her hands in surrender.
“Okay, okay. I will not play it again… in your presence,” she says.
“Thank you,” I mumble, shifting on the plush hotel bed.
“It’s a really good edit though,” she adds. Then, her expression shifts, her thick brow quirking. “So… is there something you want to tell me?”
I glance up at her, confused. “What do you mean?”
She rolls her eyes. “Darcy. Come on. First, you’re ranting about how much you can’t stand her every chance you get. Then, you start disappearing every morning, and now shejust so happensto slam your ex to the ice?”
Cleo’s got a point. But I don’t know what she wants me to say. I don’t even know what’s happening myself. All I know is that it terrifies me.
“So?”
Cleo grins. “So, you’ve been practically glued at the hip since you hooked up.”
I let out an exasperated breath. “Okay,yeah, but it’s not—”
Wait, how did she…?
A smile breaks over Cleo’s face and she jabs a finger at the camera.
“I knew it!” she squeals, jumping around like a child. The video feed shakes enough to make me nauseous. Or maybe, it’s everything else that’s happened. “Ifuckingknew it!’”
“No! No, it’s not—”
“So you didn’t hook up with her?” she asks, crossing her arms. I suck in a frustrated breath.
