Page 22 of Trick Play

I refused to look at his face. He’d pull me in and convince me to agree, and it really wasn’t something I wanted to cave on. I had a bad feeling about it. We’d either manage to avoid talking about anything but the project for the day, or everything would come out, and years of pent-up emotions would pour out.

Neither sounded like something I wanted to experience. Especially the first. Pretending would probably be worse in the end, for me. It took me so long, over a year, to be okay. To make it through a day without being filled with rage or indescribable pain. I couldn’t go back to that place. I couldn’t let him in. My walls were fragile, and I had to protect myself.

“Let me see if I can come up with anything else.”

“Fine, but if we can’t decide before this weekend, then we’ll go on Saturday.”

I agreed and closed my notebook.

“I don’t have a car, but I can ask to borrow one from the guys,” he offered.

“It’s fine. I have one.” I couldn’t handle being stuck on campus without one. Plus, Lauren and I needed a way to get to and from our internships over the summers, so I bought a small commuter to make the trips to and from the city.

“Oh cool.” He glanced around. “I know you said not to talk to you out of class, but—”

“You can use the class messaging system if you need anything.”

His jaw flexed. “But if I need to get ahold of you.”

“I’ll get the message on my phone. I have the app.”

He sighed and relented. “Fine, it would be easier to text you.”

Yeah, it would be, but I didn’t want him to have my number. A boundary needed to be set between us, so I was holding firm.

He was about to say something else when he tensed before pulling his phone from his pocket. He read the screen and a grin spread across his lips. I wanted to ignore him, but something about his expression pulled me in. Who messaged him? Was it his girlfriend? Was he dating anyone?

He looked too happy for it to be one of his friends.

Why did I care? He could do whatever he wanted. It didn’t affect me. But I couldn’t deny the tiny bubble of jealousy I felt.

Ugh. this was why I needed to maintain distance. Any closer and I’d end up hurt.

He typed out a reply then turned that stupid smile on me. “I just—”

“I’ll see you on Thursday,” I said as I stood and walked out as Clements dismissed us.

“Kennedy?” Ethan’s confusion nearly had me turning around, but no. I was strong. I didn’t owe him anything.

I needed fresh air and a moment alone. Obviously, being too close to him for too long messed with my head. There was no way I could spend a whole day with him. Nope. I needed to come up with a better plan immediately.

Chapter 8

Ethan

Blinding lights. Deafening screaming mixed with the music. Sickening smells of sweat and muscle creams. Bodies crowding me.

It was overwhelming. Too much for my brain to process. The edge of panic creeped in, but there was no time for that.

I closed my eyes and blocked it all out.

“Go!” a voice called out, and I marched forward through the darkened tunnel and into the rink. The arena was dark, and lasers and lights danced over the crowd. The bass vibrated through my skates and up to my helmet.

I took smooth steps, gliding over the perfectly smooth ice

This was it. This was what I needed.

Here I was home. It was the only place I ever felt normal, excellent even. This was the one place in the world I stood out because of my talent instead of my failures.