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Pinching the bridge of my nose between my fingers, I sigh. “It’s not my story to tell. Sorry. I can’t go into it.”
“You fought Lehane because of Bex?”
I nod.
“You have to give me something, bro. C’mon.”
“I wish I could. Bex doesn’t want anyone to know.”
“Maybe I can help.”
“No one can. What Lehane did to deserve that beating won’t change my suspension.”
“Are you done with Bex?” He presses his palm to the mattress, shifting his weight. “She’s a good girl. You would be stupid to push her away.”
“Like you did with Shannon,” I retort.
He sighs. “Things with Shan are complicated.”
“So is my relationship with Bex. I need a break. From everything and everyone. I don’t want to talk about my suspension or my career. I just want to be left alone. She’s a reminder of what I lost. I don’t blame her, but I don’t want to see her right now. I need time to process.”
Jamie pushes himself up from the bed. “I’ll leave you to it, then.” He opens his mouth, hesitating with his next words. “Don’t shut everyone out, Prez. We all want to help you. It doesn’t have to be like this.”
“There’s nothing anyone can do for me.”
He lets out a breath of air, irritated. “Okay. You know where to find me if you want to talk or play Mage Wars. I beat level fifty-five last night. You should have seen this wizard I had to face. I called my dad after I beat it to curse him out for making the game so fucking hard.”
I laugh for the first time in what feels like weeks. “Did you have to answer another riddle? I hate those fucking questions.”
“Nah, this time I had to save up enough magic dust to break through an enchanted fortress. I must’ve died at least a hundred times before I figured out how to defeat the mages in each room.”
“What rooms?”
He sits back down, his face glowing. Jamie’s happiest when we talk about video games or computers. And, of course, hockey, too.
“After you defeat the giant that guards the enchanted fortress, you have to steal the magic from the mages in each room.”
He goes on and on about the game and elaborates in great detail about how he won each level.
I listen, without interrupting him. Sitting here with Jamie, shooting the shit, I know I messed up with Bex. Like Jamie, she’s one of the good things in my life. But at this moment, all I can see is the bad.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Bex
Sitting on the floor of my bedroom, I flip open my textbook. Taylor slides along the area rug until she’s next to me, book in hand.
“The assignment is on page two hundred and twelve,” I tell her.
“You know you can talk to me, Bex.” She pats my knee with her hand. “I know this is hard on you.”
“Right now, all I want to do is get through this exam and hopefully pass the class with a B.”
“You have an A.”
“I don’t know how long I’m going to keep it if I don’t get my shit together. I haven’t been focused over the last two weeks.”
“I hate Preston for what he did to you. But I kind of love him for defending your honor.”
“His intentions were sweet.” I peek up from the book, a few tears falling from my bottom lids. “I was happy to see Kellan get his ass kicked by Preston. It’s what happened afterward that’s the problem. Preston may never get into the NHL because of the fight. And I will have to live with the fact that it was all because of me. Because I dated an asshole who did horrible things to me.”
“This isn’t your fault, Bex. Don’t blame yourself. I’ve watched you do it for close to four years. You are the victim. Kellan did those things to you and without your permission.”
“I feel responsible, you know. Like, if I never told Preston about Kellan, then everything would be perfect right now. I told him I loved him, and he rejected me. He asked me to leave the hospital. He hasn’t returned any of the calls or texts I’ve sent over the last two weeks. His friends won’t tell me anything. My dad is in mourning over this. Everyone is treating me differently.”
“I’m not.” She cups my shoulder and pulls me into a hug. “Whatever you need, I will be here.”
My cell phone chimes, and Taylor picks it up. She gasps. “Oh, my God. It’s Preston.”
I jump into action and rip the phone from her hand. Clutching it between my fingers, I hold onto it for dear life, devouring every word.
Preston: Can we talk?
“That’s it?” I look at Taylor, deflated. “No sorry for being a dick. Just can we talk?”
She frowns. “Maybe he wants to tell you in person.”
