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.”
Yeah. That knot was back in play. “Whatever he’s saying is a lie. Trust me. Cops were involved, and I really can’t say anything else.”
Zeke was watching me hard core now, all serious. “And if I told you that the cops dropped the charges against him?”
The bottom of my gut opened. “What?”
He held up his hands, palms toward me. “Just so you know, I’m not believing anything. I know how that shit works. I mean, look at me, but they called, saying we shouldn’t let you in and telling my brothers that they should start questioning me.”
I swore.
“They’re putting pressure on them, to put on me, so I’d put on you, so I kinda really do have to push this. What do you have on him? They’re not questioning me about Styles. They’re saying you specifically.”
I cursed, again. “He’s a fucking bitch.”
The end of the game sounded, and everyone was cheering. “The cops dropped the charges?”
“That’s what they said to my frat brother.”
The cops wouldn’t drop the charges unless Angela recanted her statement.
“I gotta go.” I shoved past him, heading up the stairs to leave the arena. As fast as possible, that’s what I needed. I had to get out of there, but I wasn’t running. I was fighting because fuck this. No one fought for me at times, so I wouldn’t let that stand this time. I’d fight for Angela because no way was this guy going to get away with what he did to her.
I dialed Angela’s number first.
She didn’t pick up. I waited and dialed again once I was outside and I dodged to the side, trying to find some privacy. My phone was blowing up with text after text, but that would all have to wait.
I called her again. She declined this time.
And again.
My persistence paid off.
“Mara, hey.” She’d been crying. “I–what are–are you at the game?”
“Did you take back your statement?”
She was quiet on her end, until a hiccup. “Why–how do–what have you heard?”
Was she serious? A group of people were walking by, so I moved off the sidewalk, finding a corner by the building and I hunched down. My butt was resting on the back of my heels and I put a finger into one ear, trying to hear her better. “I got a heads-up that Carrington isn’t going after Cruz. He’s going after me. I was warned to watch my back. Now I’m hearing that he’s calling a fraternity here in Cain and telling them not to let me in the party.”
“What?” she whispered.
“I know someone in that frat and he’s asking me about it, saying the cops dropped the charges against Flynn.”
“WHAT?”
“The only way they’d do that is if you recanted. Did you? Did you do that?” I heard her starting to cry, and my heart broke. I gentled my voice, “Listen. I’m not trying–” Screw it. If I was going to burn for this, I guess that I was going to burn for this. “I won’t get mad. I’m not coming at you that way, but I’m getting ready to fight Carrington on my own and I need to know what I’m fighting for. You or myself. If it’s too much and you’re taking a step back, that’s fine. I mean it, but I have to know. Different strategy, you know?” I tried to laugh, but God. If she was going to let me hang out to dry, then, well, I guess that’s what was going to happen.
Who was I kidding? I got a glimpse into a normal life, and it’d been good. It’d been fun, but that wasn’t me.
“You know, never mind. I’m sorry. I–uh–I got this. Don’t worry about anything. You, you just take care of yourself.”
“Mara–”
I ended the call, but dammit, dammit, dammit. Flynn wanted to destroy me. Well, good luck because I’d endured worse than him.
My phone was continuously buzzing, so I started going through them. I began responding to the first few until I clicked on one from… Kit?
Kit: Did you see this? This is INSANE! Link.
Dread was already inside of me, but it grew razors and I felt them starting to sink into my insides. This wasn’t going to be good.
I clicked on the link.
It went to another article, by the same writer, at the same blog, but this time the headline said,
In My Time of Need, My Daughter Wasn’t There For Me:
A story about a mother in need and her daughter abandoned her.
