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Suppose Ryan has a hard night keeping his stick out from between one or five of my teammates' feet, and Anthony throws his shoulders into a few too many sets of numbers. If that were the case, their crew would follow suit, making the game as dirty as Braden's sheets after a night out.
I've tried not to let myself get too worked up, but my teammates feel it too. It's not just another game against the Steamrollers that we're worried about. It's the fear of something happening to the league's favourite player. The guy who picked the worst possible game to make his Vancouver Warrior's debut after signing his new contract—Oakley fucking Hutton—and it's my job to protect him out there. No matter what.
Gracie's baby blues flash across my vision. The way they hold such adoration for Oakley only restates the importance of this game for me. She would be devastated if anything happened to him, and I would never forgive myself if I didn't do my job and keep him safe out there. I cough to clear my throat and give my head a shake when the locker room door opens. I'm the only one still here, thanks to my inability to stop pushing myself so damn hard, so I assume someone forgot their car keys or something when I shove my practice jersey in my bag and yell out, "Forget something?"
"Are you alone?" Jessica, Gracie's best friend, comes barrelling over to my cubby, throwing herself against me as her knees give out. Sobs shake her short figure, the sound coming off more forced than I think she was expecting. I place my hands firmly on her shoulders and push her off of me.
"What are you doing?" My mouth becomes the Sahara as I stare at her with a tick in my jaw. Finally, I gather my thoughts and move past her to look out the door and make sure she wasn't followed. I turn back around. "You're not allowed back here."
"We need to talk."
"We don't. Now leave," I hiss, steel-jawed and waving towards the door. "We don't need to talk about anything." I feel my stomach tightening, a wave of nausea swirling, making me squeeze my eyes shut so tightly that I see stars on the back of my eyelids.
"Yeah, I think we do. I have to tell her about us. I just completely blew up on her. You should have seen her face," she cries, hugging her chest in a way that should make me feel sorry for her, but I don't feel anything but anger. If she really cared about Gracie at all, she wouldn't be here trying to climb me like a damn tree.
"You what? What did you do to her? And what do you mean, us? There never has and will never be an us," I growl, baring my teeth as images of an upset Gracie terrorize me. I know that I should probably be more worried about Gracie finding out about Jessica and me hooking up a couple years back, but that pales in comparison to the hurt Jessica could have caused by just being her self-absorbed, insecure, petty self.
"I hurt her. Really bad. I couldn't control what I was saying. It just spewed out of me!"
"Can you stop your fucking crying for five seconds? I don't have time for your bullshit, Jessica." I walk back to the door. If Gracie's upset then I need to be there, not here with her horrible excuse of a best friend.
"You can't just leave me! I need you right now," Jessica cries out again.
"You don't need anything from me. Just get out. I'm leaving." Footsteps echo behind me as I grip my duffle and fling open the door. I stalk down the empty hallway at an alarming rate. I can hear Jessica's quick footsteps as she likely has to run to keep up with me, but I only pick up my pace.
"We need to talk about this, Ty!" she yells, desperation so thick in her voice that I have to swallow back the bile that makes its way up my throat. The nickname makes my body freeze up in anger while my brain yells at me to keep moving, to just get away from her before I let myself become incensed. But it's my body that wins when I can't seem to move my feet.
"Don't call me that. Ever again," I spit, making sure to pronounce each word a bit harder than the next so she can't misinterpret me this time. "You were a mistake, one that I regretted as soon as it happened. I was too drunk to even know who you were when I fucked you, and I wish I never had to find out. We are not ever going to happen. And if you want to keep your friendship with Gracie, then I suggest you accept that and stop trying to fuck her boyfriend behind her back. Have some respect for yourself, Jessica."
She's silent as she takes slow steps away from me, refusing to blink so the unshod tears in her eyes don’t fall. I take her silence as a sign that she's finally understood me. She straightens her back and glares at me. "Tell her, Tyler. Or I will."
I nod stiffly and spin on my heels, storming out of the arena. Once I reach my truck, I slam my hand against the body. Sharp twinges of pain radiate through my palms as I use them to support my body weight and hang my head, staring blankly at the pavement. Fucking Jessica was by far the dumbest thing I've ever done. Gracie's best friend or not.
