“Like you’ve told me from day one, I’m just a meaningless nobody and you just said it yourself, Maverick despises me.” Even as the words come out of my mouth, my stomach tightens, cutting off the blood flow from my heart.
“I am not the only Bethany in New York, Jessica and I’m quite sure if anyone knows them all, it would be Maverick.”
Jessica pauses for a second as if considering my words. After a short while, she nods, her cheeks blooming red for a split second.
“Don’t you need to be on the ice soon?” I ask her and she gasps before sprinting out of the bathroom, reality finally sinking its claws into her once again.
She’s completely unhinged, and I don’t know if I should be scared for myself or concerned for her, but either way I’m pretty sure she needs help. For now, however, I’m free of her gaze and rage and venom.
The shuffling of feet on the other side of the door has receded and I’m hoping Maverick and miss barely dressed have wrapped up their conversation and gone about their business.
Quietly, I pull the door open and peek out to check if the coast is clear, and it is…for the most part. As I quietly make my way toward the stadium, I overhear two voices in a small passageway leading to Coach’s office.
“Did you get his skates?” The female asks, her voice ripe with excited anticipation. There’s a small pause left for the other person to answer, but no words come. My ears are perked, my heart thrashing against my chest, like whatever they’re saying should cause panic to roar inside of me. “Did you do it?” the female voice asks again. “I’m pretty sure I bought you enough time to at least crack the blade.”
There’s a low chuckle followed by arrogance. “Yeah. Of course I did it. By the end of the game everything will be as it should be, and we won’t have to worry about the English man anymore.”
Fuck.
Double fuck.
My mind spins, rotating around whether or not I should take what I heard as gold or consider not believing my own ears. How many braincells do you have to be missing to talk be discussing shit like that right in the open, anyway?
“Good,” the female whispers and I hear what I assume is kissing before Jared, the bastard, walks out and heads towards Coach’s office.
A few seconds later, the female steps into the hallway and my stomach bottoms out.
It’s her. She’s the same person from the supermarket. I would know that hair anywhere. It’s the same head of hair I spotted leaning up against Maverick when I got here. The same spotless skin, exposed and shimmering.
She glances up the hallway and before I can draw myself back into a hidden corner, her eyes are on me. Rather than saying anything, she flips her hair over her shoulder and totters away in the opposite direction from the other scum bag, looking graceful as ever as she goes on her way to take Maverick down.
Christ.
These people are worse than I thought. They’re not just pulling some stupid prank. They’re trying to ruin his career, his future. A part of me can’t believe they’d do that to one of their own. The other part of me isn’t surprised at all. But still, this is Maverick we’re talking about. He’s not the kind of guy who gets bullied. Even as the thought runs through my mind, I know better than to think nothing of what I’ve just heard.
I rush to the locker room and peek inside, happier than a pig in shit when I find it empty. I don’t imagine I have a lot of time before the guys come barreling in.
My eyes glance around frantically as I try to find Maverick’s locker.
This is certainly not what I’m being paid for. And honestly, if anyone deserves to be poked and prodded a little, I’d be a fool to say Maverick shouldn’t be very high on the list. But what pumped up Barbie and shithead Jared are planning, it’s one hundred percent next level.
I finally find the locker with his name scribbled on the handle. Without thinking, I dig around in his bag for his skates before walking down to the stand with them tucked under my hoodie.
“Sorry Maverick. It’s for your own good. I swear.” I mumble the words, knowing that I’m way out of my league here. If he can’t find his skates he’ll have to borrow someone else’s. He’ll be angry, but at least he won’t fuck up out there.
Taking a seat, I wait for all hell to break loose.
The cheer teams from both schools make their way to the rink, throwing pompoms around and getting the crowd riled up for an “exciting” faceoff.
They have no idea just how eventful it’s about to be.
After a few minutes of watching synchronized routines, another round of screams and hoots erupt. All eyes are wide with anticipation, watching as the visiting team makes their way down the steps and onto the rink.
My heart crashes into the walls of my chest like a trapped songbird. I keep glancing behind me, waiting patiently for our team to appear. To see the look on Maverick’s face. To see if he’s managed to get new skates. To see how mad he is. I’m fucking nervous.
When our team walks into the crowds, something clicks. Something evil, sinister, possible ruthless and a heck of a lot unlike me. I jump up with the rest of the crowd and wait for Jared to get close enough to throw myself in front of him. His gear goes crashing down beside me, now dramatically sprawled out on the floor.
“What the fuck!” he bellows at me and the preppies everywhere start booing.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, playing everything the part of the poor, clumsy girl trying to make rights of her wrongs. I’m on my knees, handing Jared his helmet and skates, moving in a very much planned frenzy. He grabs each item from my hands without so much as a glance at me that he doesn’t even notice when I make the swap. With all his belongings now in tow, he continues down to the ice.
Hurriedly, I rush away from the stands, taking the steps two at a time as I race toward the locker room where I expect to find a furious Maverick, having a severe melt down over not finding his skates.
31
Of all the things and of all the days, now is not the fucking time for my skates to go missing.
I’ve tossed through every can, every bag, every locker and nothing!
My knuckles sing out when I throw a punch into the locker beside me. So many things flash before my eyes.
The end of my career.
The end of my reputation.
The end of the only drop of happiness this world has ever offered me.
Somebody here is trying to fuck up my whole life. In-house rivalry is one thing, but this is taking it way too far.
I need to get out on that ice.
Fuck!
My brain twists and turns, trying to make some sense of this damn situation. All the guys had been present for Coach’s pow-wow when he told us that the recruiters are already here; when he told us that we needed to play the best fucking game of our lives. There’s no way it could have been one of my teammates. No way. With so much at stake I’d be damned if today isn’t my day to shine.
I storm out of the locker room, almost crashing into Beth as I round the corner. I’m about to push past her, but she puts both of her tiny hands on my chest and shoves me back into the locker room.
“Move out of the way, Beth. Now’s not the right damn time to be playing games.”
“I imagine it’s not.” She pouts, then raises an eyebrow before pulling my missing skates from under her sweater.