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TWENTY-FOUR
OAKLEY
I'm such an idiot. I don't know why I didn't tell Ava about my dad. Maybe it was the fear of seeing her look at me with pity, or perhaps I just hadn't had the guts to be so open. Either way, she was right.
I am a hypocrite.
It seems like everything is starting to come apart—and the issues just keep piling up. At what point does it stop?
The fight at my mother's house was two days ago. If I don't talk to her soon, I think I might explode. The restlessness from my injuries isn't helping with the pain that comes with not talking to Ava, either.
I texted her that night and asked her to let me know when they got home safe. But it was Tyler who texted me four and a half hours later to let me know he dropped her off.
The next morning I got a simple "hey," followed by a lame attempt at a conversation before she stopped replying altogether. I know we're both hurting, but it doesn't make any of this any easier. It sure as shit doesn't help my mood. I'm surprised Matt hasn't socked me one yet for my piss poor attitude.
The medic cleared me to join the team on the ice again just in time for our game tonight. We won by a blowout score of seven to two. When I scored the final goal, I spun around searching for Ava, only to be hit with the harsh reality that she hadn't come.
My stomach dropped when I saw that a skinny guy had filled her usual seat beside Morgan. That was when it hit me. This has to end. We have to fix this.
"Dude, you're going to be with Morgan the whole night. Why the hell do I need to come?" I ask, not trying to hide my annoyance. The last place I want to be at a party—especially one of Adam's.
Matt rolls his eyes and shoves me through the door and into the crowded living room. "You needed to get out of the damn house. You're wasting away in there."
"It's only been two days," I grumble, shifting my eyes around the humid room as I feel Matt scurrying away.
I spot Tyler sitting on one of the leather couches in the far corner. I drop into the seat beside him and take a long swig of the bitter liquid Matt gave me. "Hey, man."
Tyler looks over at me with raised eyebrows and bloodshot eyes. He nods and takes a sip of his drink. "She was in the kitchen with Adam the last time I saw her."
My eyebrows shoot up into my hairline. "She's here? With Adam?" The thought makes my head spin.
I didn't expect her to be here after she didn't show up to the game. Tyler nods again and drains his cup. He gets up—stumbling slightly—and slaps my shoulder before walking towards the sea of drunks. Clearly, it's been a rough night for him too.
The sudden overwhelming smell of perfume makes me cough. A small body collides into my side, knocking the air out of my lungs.
"You're Octavia's boyfriend, right?" The mystery body asks, judgement clear in her slurred words.
"Yeah," I reply with a shrug. "Oakley Hutton."
"Well, this party sucks. I would grab her and get out of here before these freaks suck the life right out of you. I'm pretty sure she's outside with Adam."
I cock my head to the side and consider her through slitted eyes. Why does it seem as though everyone is keeping tabs on my girlfriend? And why does she always have to be with Adam?
"Thanks," I grumble. "You got a name?"
She rolls her piercing blue eyes—which are wide behind her thick black-rimmed glasses. She blows a bubble with her gum and lets it pop with a loud smack when she speaks again. "Beth Winston. I'm surprised Ava hasn't told you about me."
From this chick's apparent ego, it isn't hard to guess why I haven't heard about her.
"Well, thanks, Beth. Get home safe."
"You too, Oakley Hutton," she sighs and flops back against the couch cushion.
I stand up and push my way past the herds of incompetent drunks swarming around me. Swinging open the back door, I take a deep breath and allow the fresh, crisp air to calm me. I lean against one of the many brick pillars and groan. I shouldn't have come here.
My head snaps up at the sound of Ava's laugh. It rings in my ears teasingly. There she is, standing in the middle of the small group I call my friends.
My eyes zero in on her smile and I can feel myself smiling like an idiot almost immediately. Her long hair has been pulled up in a beautifully messy bun. I laugh to myself, knowing full well that she had probably gotten sick of it blowing in her face and pulled it up.
