“Hockey hype?” He looks between us frantically and my heart sinks. “You’re fucking Nate Hawkins, aren’t you?”
Brin’s eyes widen, realizing her mistake.
“It’s none of your business.” It isn’t his business. I’m an adult woman and I can do what I want, but it doesn’t stop me from knowing I’m about to get shit from Aaron, which fills me with dread. Over the years I’ve learned which battles I can win, and ones where he’s already decided what he thinks of someone isn’t one of them. “Drop it.”
“Why do you make such horrible fucking choices? Jesus Christ. It’s like you don’t respe—”
“Finish that sentence.” Brin snarls, storming toward us. “I fucking dare you, Carlisle. Finish that sentence and see what choicesImake.”
He huffs and rolls his eyes, stomping away from us in the direction of his bedroom, muttering something about living with women under his breath.
When his door slams shut, Sabrina flings herself at me, suffocating me with a tight hug. “Sorrysorrysorrysorry.”
“Mhm. You will be, Allali.”
* * *
Thursday arrivesand five days after Aaron started sulking, I can confirm he is still sulking. He’s hardly said two words to me since I arrived home from work on Saturday, which works for me, but makes for a chilly living situation.
I’ve kept myself busy and after what I’m callingplanner wizardry, I’ve somehow managed to get myself ahead of schedule and free up my time until Sunday.
“Phone away.” Henry doesn’t even look up from his sketchbook as he barks his order at me. “Or I take it again.”
I reluctantly do as he says, tucking my phone back into my pocket. Henry has been my study buddy all week, keeping me company in the library and confiscating my phone when I get distracted by messages from pesky hockey players. Plural, because JJ blows up my phone more than anyone else.
So far, Henry hasn’t done any studying himself, claiming he prefers to procrastinate until the last minute, then study under duress and the feeling of impending doom, but he did draw me as a giraffe, which was nice.
I’m nearly finished with my assignment when I hear Henry’s pencil knock against the library table we’re working at. “You know Nathan wouldn’t abandon you, right?”
“Huh?”
“Yesterday. You said you would be happy to fall in love because I wouldn’t abandon you. Nathan wouldn’t either.”
Like most conversations with Henry, his words catch me off guard, evident by the garbled laugh that sounds a bit like choking that escapes my lips. “It was just a joke, Hen.”
In exchange for a hot chocolate with marshmallows, yesterday Henry gave me a very detailed account of how he would make me fall in love with him if Nate were to ever ruin the chances of him getting laid again. Naturally, my immediate reaction was to tell him I was totally okay with falling in love with him, foolishly adding that there was absolutely no way he’d ever abandon me, so to let me know when the time came. It’s clearly been on his mind.
“You don’t need to lie to me, Anastasia. A nice girl like you isn’t single without a reason, you don’t need to tell me about it, but I wanted you to know he wouldn’t abandon you.” He looks so genuine when he says it that I want to cry. “He’s never abandoned me, and I’m only his friend. He gets to see you naked and that’s ultimately more appealing. Before you say he doesn’t, my bedroom is right next to his, and you are incredibly loud when you climax.”
I can feel the blood drain from my face. “That’s…good to know. And on that enlightening note, it’s time for us to head to the rink.”
Henry and I pack up our things and head across campus toward the arena. We chat casually, thankfully about topics not involving how I sound when I orgasm. Being friends with Henry is easy; you know what he says is the truth, and there is no sneakiness or backhandedness. This week, that kind of unfiltered honesty has been a huge comfort in the face of tension with Aaron, and I’m more than a little gutted when we arrive at the rink and he immediately ditches me.
Why couldn’t he have been a figure skater?
I try to concentrate on my warm-up and not how hot Nathan looks shouting instructions at his team. By the time I’m stepping onto the ice myself, I’m more than a little flushed, but Aaron immediately puts a stop to that, because his shitty attitude is like being swept up in a blizzard.
“He’s distracting you, Anastasia. You’re being sloppy. Stop wasting my time if you’re not going to put the effort in,” Aaron complains, gesturing toward Nate, who is watching from the stands. Today is the day Nate and I are heading to the mall, and I said he could watch me skate. I knew it was a mistake when I said yes, anticipating Aaron being a dick, but he asked so nicely that I couldn’t say no.
“I’m not distracted!”
The only distracting thing right now is Aaron’s attitude. His movements are tight and sharp, we feel out of sync, and when he moves to lift me, his hands grip me a little tighter than he usually does. It’s frustrating and disorientating, and by the time we’re done, I feel like I need to lock myself away and cry.
The second we finish, he storms off toward the locker rooms, and Nate slowly walks over to me. I don’t even need to tell him; that disastrous session was evident to everyone. We were terrible.
“I’ll kick his ass if you want me to.” His hand cups my cheek and I nuzzle into its warmth.
“If you hurt him I can’t compete at sectionals in two weeks.”