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I tug on Trent and Tucker’s jerseys, dragging them over to pull Preston off him. Lehane’s face is a mess. Blood and sweat mix together running down his face onto his jersey and the ice. Trent and I get a good hold on Preston and pull him off Lehane.
Coach Bryant is behind us yelling at Preston. Bex is in the stands with her hands covering her mouth. She taps on the glass, eyes wide in shock. Preston glances over at her, shaking his head.
Was the fight because of her?
Did he just piss away his career over a girl?
One week has passed since the Boston Massacre. That’s what I have jokingly called it since Preston broke Kellan Lehane’s nose and killed his career. He’s suspended from the league, which means he’s finished. His dreams of going pro are now over.
Coach Bryant reamed him out over the suspension. He’s even taken it out on us, forcing us to practice every day. We have no breaks until the end of the season. No one in the house has said it aloud, but we all know Preston’s to blame, and he still won’t tell us why he beat the shit out of Kellan Lehane.
I rush downstairs when I hear a knock on the front door, not surprised to find Bex on the other side. She’s been stopping by to check on Preston. For some reason, he won’t talk to her. He broke three of his knuckles and sprained his hand. That’s how hard he hit Lehane. But I don’t see what Bex has to do with any of this.
I force a smile for Bex’s benefit. She looks terrible as if she hasn’t slept in days mirroring Preston’s disheveled appearance lately.
“Preston is sleeping,” I lie.
He makes everyone in the house tell her the same thing. Every time she’s stopped by this week we’ve had to lie for Preston. I don’t know what’s wrong with him. He’s acting like an asshole toward her for no apparent reason. She didn’t force him to ruin his career.
Bex tries to hide her disappointment, but it’s written all over her face. “Can you relay a message for me?”
Leaning against the doorframe, I shove a hand through my hair to push it off my forehead. “Yeah. What do you want me to tell him?”
Preston hasn’t been to class in a week. He refuses to leave the house and barely ventures out of his bedroom. I’ve never seen him like this before. It’s as if he has given up on life.
“Tell Preston I’m sorry,” Bex says. “I shouldn’t have involved him in all of this. This is my fault, and now he’s paying for it.”
“Wait… what?” My eyebrows rise in confusion. “What are you talking about? Why is this your fault?”
“He didn’t tell you?” She sounds surprised.
I cross my arms over my chest, wondering what Preston is keeping from me. “Tell me what?”
“Oh.” She bites her bottom lip. “I assumed he told you since you two are like brothers. What did he tell his parents about the fight?”
“That he reacted without thinking. Lehane and Preston have never gotten along. They’ve always gone after each other on the ice. But never like this. So, you’re saying you had something to do with the fight.”
“Yes,” she whispers. “I wish I could take it all back.”
“Bex, spit it out,” I growl, irritated with all the mystery surrounding the fight and Preston’s suspension. “What’s going on? Preston won’t talk to me, and now you’re being all cryptic.”
“Sorry.” Her eyes lower to the ground. “I don’t mean to be. Let Preston know I came by, would you? Ask him to call me… if he’s feeling up to it.”
“Sure.” I clutch the door, about to close it when I add, “Your dad probably told you already, but Preston’s suspended for the rest of the season which effectively means his college career is over. He’s upset right now. I don’t know what I’d do if it were me, but I do know he’s not taking it well. He worked his ass off his entire life to get here, and now it might have been for nothing.”
Tears fall from her cheeks, and she wipes them away with the back of her hand. “I can’t even imagine what he’s going through.”
“He’s a hot head. He just needs time. Okay?”
She flashes a closed mouth smile, tears wetting her face. “Thanks, Jamie.”
After I close the door, I head upstairs to talk to Preston. He owes me an explanation. All of us are suffering because of Bex. Now, I need to know why.
I knock on Preston’s bedroom door even though it’s cracked open. He doesn’t acknowledge me. So, I stroll into his room and plop down on the edge of his bed like it’s mine.
“Bex was here,” I tell him. “Again. When are you going to man up and talk to her?”
