Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 120176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 601(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 601(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
“Dude. I’m just saying.”
Labrowski’s glare doubled. “What are you saying? Enlighten me. You have experience going through this, hearing what another guy did–” He stopped himself, but briskly shook his head. “Just, lay off. This isn’t easy shit.”
“Hey.” I leaned forward, making sure Labrowski had eyes on me. “We’ve got your back.”
He visibly relaxed, enough where the glares were more frowns. “I know. I know and thank you. I know it’s not you guys that I’m mad at, but Carrington. Guys like him make the rest of us–just, fuck him.” He looked back my way and I knew. I’d heard. I’d been there when Mara asked her those questions. His jaw clenched and he looked away. “I’d love to rip into him, just once.”
Barclay had been quiet, listening. He leaned forward now, hunching over the table. “So maybe we make that happen.”
All of us looked his way.
He lifted a shoulder, inclining his head to the side. “I bet that wouldn’t be too hard. Find out when he’s alone. No phones. No cameras. No way anyone could record anything. We’d vouch for each other, and yeah. Let’s have a man-to-man chat with him. I’m down.” At Labrowski’s lingering look, he added, “Angela’s too sweet for something like that to happen to her. She made cupcakes post-game days. I loved those cupcakes.”
Labrowski cracked a grin. “Yeah. She did. Too fucking sweet.”
“So.” Barclay was looking around. “Let’s make it happen.” He put his fist on the table, waiting.
Atwater put a fist on the table.
Me too.
Labrowski was the last one.
At one, we raised them up and hit the table at the same time. After that, each of us went to eating.
We had a game to win that day.
47
MARA
I slept in the jersey, per Cruz’s request, but I didn’t wear it to his second game. Instead, a scarf, a sweater, and Zeke snuck in some beer so that’s what was keeping me warm. At the beginning of the game, he was in his section, but it was obvious during the warm-up that there was something extra going on with Cruz and the guys. Mainly Cruz, Labrowski, Atwater, and Barclay. The four were intense, and the rest of the guys picked up the vibe.
The first period, I had no words. It was score after score. Cain didn’t know what hit them.
I felt bad. This hadn’t been the Grant West team they played just the day before. These guys were on a tear. Shot after shot. They scored three in the first period. Two in the second, and by the third, Zeke was in our section and squeezing between me and Skylar. Tasmin was behind him, along with Race and a couple other girls I didn’t know.
“What are you doing here?” I asked Zeke.
He began cheering for Cruz immediately, wearing the same sweatshirt he’d worn at yesterday’s game. He wrapped an arm around my shoulder, leaning on me. “Our school’s not known for hockey. Football, yes. Soccer, this year, but hockey? Not our thing.” He motioned toward the other Cain people, and I noted a good third had dispersed. “They’re heading out for the parties already. And by the way,” he squeezed me close to him, looking down at me. “Everyone is heading to my frat. You ready for that? OH MY GOD! HELL YEAH, CRUZ. I’LL HAVE YOUR BABIES!”
The red light lit up from his goal, and Cruz skated around, his teammates closing in on him. He skated past our section, looking for me, and as he did, he hit the plexiglass with his stick. The section went crazy. We were higher up, choosing to do seats this time. I saw so many girls watching him, so many taking pics, and so many going straight to their social media.
“You got nothing to worry about.” Zeke had been observing me. “You know that, right?”
I nodded, but there was still a ball of worry in my tummy. It would be there for a long time. It was how I was made.
Cruz hit the bench, and the second line was skating out. They’d drop the puck again so for a second, we had a breather.
“So, you two. You guys are good? Official?”
“You saw the blog?”
He frowned. “It got sent to me, yeah.”
I shrugged. “Taz offered to help me find out who gave her that information, why it was written how it was.”
“Inferring you’re a whore?” He smirked at me, amusement in his gaze.
“I’m used to it, but yeah. I’d like to know if she has a personal agenda against me.”
“Reading that article, I got the vibe it’s because you’re with Cruz.”
“Still might have to have a talk with her.”
“Well.” He bumped his shoulder into mine. “I’m here for that, but can I bring up the other elephant in the room? Cruz said to leave it, but would you let me know if something serious pops off with this thing you have going on with Miller? Reason I’m asking is because some of their frat brothers reached out. They know I’m firmly hashtag teamcruz and hashtag teamdaniels if that’s the case, but they’re saying some shit. Our frats aren’t affiliated, but we’re friendly, and you know how that can be in the Greek system.”