FAYE
When Aeris and Lila asked me to accompany them on a girls’ day out, it sounded like a great idea, especially since I’ve been imprisoned in a house full of hockey jocks and testosterone. But in hindsight, sitting in a poorly ventilated restaurant with sweat dripping down my back and Kit’s nagging words ringing in my mind, maybe a homemade peanut butter and jelly sandwich would’ve sufficed. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy that I get to spend time with them. I just wish the circumstances were a bit better.
I know they heard about my slip-up at the party. Everyone and their mother have heard about it by now. And yes, Hayes stuck by his promise to keep me locked in my room for the time being—aside from Gage’s brilliant drinking game. Luckily, Kit’s rarely set foot in his room after that night. It’s a good thing I didn’t catch him, or I would’ve thrown a lamp at him.
I can’t get over the things he said to me. He’s just a person. He’s just a guy who’s not entirely hideous and who has a knack for putting pucks into nets. He’s not special, so I don’t know why I let him have so much power over me. I was incensed at first, and even more so when he tried to talk to me during the game, but now I’m just drained.
I’ve stopped feeling guilty, I’ve stopped pitying myself, I’ve stopped feeling angry. I don’t have the energy to let him take over my life. And all of these secrets. Ugh, these fucking secrets! I don’t want them anymore. I do—
“Faye?”
I blink as the view of our waiter crispens, and everyone around the table stares at me, the young, probably fresh-out-of-high-school server waiting impatiently for me to order.
My gaze immediately locates the pasta subsection of the menu, because if I’m going to get through this lunch without biting someone’s head off, I’m going to need sweet, sweet carbs. “Sorry, I’ll have the tortellini,” I say, folding my menu and placing it in his outstretched hand.
He takes it from me with a blank expression. Then, like a light has been switched on, he plasters on the fakest smile I’ve ever seen. “We’re so pasta-tively thrilled that you chose to dine with us this afternoon!” he exclaims cheerfully, then scurries off to the kitchen window.
“That was…weird,” Lila comments, taking a sip from her water glass.
Aeris glances around the hole-in-the-wall restaurant, everywhere from the enlarged cartoon penne in a bikini to the random framed facts about pasta dating back to the thirteenth century. “Yeah, the website made it look a lot more normal online.”
The restaurant has started to fill up—a surprise there—and judging by the volume of people filtering in, our meals will likely be cold by the time they make it to our table. I hadn’t realized how hungry I’d actually gotten in the thirty minutes we’ve been here.
Aeris folds and refolds her cloth napkin. Lila purses her lips as she takes in the outfits of the customers around us.
I sigh. “Don’t you two want to ask me what you’ve been dying to ask me since we sat down?”
“What? No, of course not. We-we have no idea what you’re talking about,” Aeris insists, nodding to Lila, who nods back just as vigorously.
I know when Aeris is lying. Everyone does. She’s a terrible liar.
Lila slips her manicured fingers between the gaps in her plaited braid, puffing up each individual section. “Yeah, we’re just glad you didn’t do cocaine. That’s the real hard shit.”
Aeris nudges her friend’s arm. “Lila!”
“What? I’m just being honest. And warning her. I did cocaine one time at a sorority exchange and was convinced I was going to die. I couldn’t tell the head sister either because I would’ve been dropped, so I locked myself in the bathroom for the rest of the night.”
I shift the weight on my hip bones, trying to ignore the shallow pool of sweat my back’s gathered on the hardwood seat. “See! Molly isn’t that bad. I don’t get why everyone’s treating me like a kid.”
“They’re just worried about you,” Aeris coos, her lips cracking into a sympathetic grimace.
She means well. The whole house does. But…I have a right to feel indignant, don’t I? I’m twenty-two. I don’t need to be looked after all the time. And I know it’s immature to blame my own actions on someone else, but none of this would’ve happened if it wasn’t for Kit.
I run my nail through the condensation on my glass, eyes glued to the ring of water soaking into the varnished table. “Can we just talk about something else please?”
Lila catches on immediately, throwing herself into the ring with a wicked little grin. “I’m officially done with boys,” she announces.
Mid-drink, Aeris chokes on her water. “You’re turning lesbian?”
“No, but maybe down the road. I meant I’m done with Bristol, specifically.”
My eyebrows lift with curiosity. “Hold on. You and Bristol?”
She rolls her mascara-primed eyes, twirling her straw around. “Yeah, ever since Hayes’ birthday party, but that clearly hasn’t gone anywhere. He’s so unsure of what he wants, but he’s sure enough that he doesn’t want me,” she mutters, her tone shrouded in annoyance. “He needs to make up his mind. I’m not going to let him drag me along, you know? If he doesn’t want the real thing—and that includes labels—then I’m not going to give him the time.”
“Men suck,” I agree.
“I’ll drink to that.” Lila throws her water back and finishes it in a few gulps like it’s a shot of tequila.
We both turn to Aeris, who’s upgraded from folding her napkin to styling it into an unidentifiable animal shape.
“Oh, yeah. Men suck balls. Death to the patriarchy!” she yells a little too loudly, attracting a side-eye from a granny a few tables away from us.
And the resentment that had momentarily left me is back, engulfing my heart in tendrils, a bunch of black conduits for the hateful poison seething in my bloodstream. Fuck Kit Langley. My life was better when he wasn’t in it. And if I see his dumb face, I’m going to punch him. In fact, maybe I’ll book a flight back to Pennsylvania to really show him.
Great. Now aside from being hot and hungry, I’m pissed. Just when I said I wasn’t going to give him any more power, here I am, handing it over to him. My temples throb, and dizziness wallops my nutrient-deprived brain. I somehow also feel dry and wet at the same time. The bare parts of my body are all crackly, but the clothed parts of my body are damper than they should be.
A waiter maneuvers through the three o’clock rush of incoming customers, carrying a tray of sliced fresh bread. Steam swirls like a thin brume from the doughy insides. The outside is crisped to perfection with flour sprinkled over top, and dried rosemary has been baked into the pristine, white craters, bringing an equally tempting scent to my nostrils.
My stomach rumbles angrily, and I press my hand to it, hoping that if I suck on an ice cube long enough, it’ll just shut up.
There’s an elongated pause, then Aeris clears her throat. “So, how’s school going?”
I stuff an ice cube into one side of my cheek. “It’s, uh, it’s fine. Finished finals with straight As, though my stats class was hell to get through. It was my first A-, and the teacher was terrible. Never explained anything, never provided study guides, included information on the midterms that we never learned.”
“A-? That’s impressive, Faye. I got a D in my Food Culture class. And half our grade was based on attendance,” Lila says, flashing a flirtatious smile at the waiter filling up her glass.
“Do you know what you want to do after graduation?” Aeris asks.
I’m going into my junior year in the fall, so the post-graduation questions aren’t new to me. But I hate thinking about them. Adulthood has more rigid schedules, but you have less control over everything. I’m not ready for all of that. The only thing I know for certain is that I’ll work on my teaching credentials after college.
I swallow my melted ice. “Kinda just going with the flow. You know, it’s impossible for kids right out of college to get jobs.” Deflect, Faye. I’d rather not be reminded of the life I have waiting for me back in Pennsylvania.
“You don’t have to know,” Lila chimes in. “Your journey is your journey. No point in rushing through it if you’re headed to the same place in the end.”
Aeris nods. “I didn’t get a job until months later. I actually remember going to all the stores downtown and—”
There’s a scream. A high-pitched, bone-chilling scream. And it’s coming from the blond across from me. I don’t know how I didn’t clock it as soon as it happened, but a passing server must’ve tripped by our table, because the plate he was carrying—which must’ve been Spaghetti Bolognese—is splashed all over Lila’s designer shirt.
I freeze. The whole restaurant freezes. The waiter might’ve shit his pants, who knows.
Lila’s in hysterics as Aeris slowly scoots out of her seat and escorts her to the bathroom. Now, instead of my friends sitting across from me, there’s a mess of tomato sauce and chunky meatballs dripping off the table. Noodles the consistency of puke are sprawled in a brown mush on the floor. Lovely.
Honestly, if nobody was watching the disaster that just took place, I might’ve licked the table clean. I’ve gone from hungry to ravenous in minutes. With a sigh, I dig around in my purse for some sustenance, but then I remember I took my emergency Junior Mints out when I had a late-night cry session the other day. Thanks to Kit. All thanks to Kit.
A few waiters have been deployed to remedy the pasta explosion at the table, and they all scrub furiously like they’ll lose their jobs on the spot if they don’t have the wood looking clean enough to eat off. And once their crew disperses with some mumbled apologies here and there, none other than Kit motherfucking Langley sits down in Aeris’ abandoned seat.
“What are you doing here?” I growl, my headache growing tenfold.
“I needed to talk to you.” He’s dressed in a tank top, delicious tattoos on display, big lips in a slight pout, and just the right amount of perspiration condensing on his hairline.
Hold up. Did he follow me here? Did he place an AirTag on the bottom of my shoe or something? How did he know where I was?
“What, Kit? About what? There’s nothing to talk about.”
I have no idea when the girls are going to get back, but they can’t see me and Kit talking. And Aeris seems like the kind of person who has those Tide to Go sticks on her at all times.
“We have everything to talk about, Faye. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about what I said to you at the party. I was out of line. I wasn’t thinking about how my words would affect you. I started spewing anything I could think of to push you away. And none of it was true. None of it.”
My teeth nick the skin on my lower lip, and I taste copper. I lean back in my chair with my arms crossed over my chest. “Guilt’s a bitch, isn’t it?”
Kit’s face twists in pain, his jaw clenched, the muscles in his arm wrung impossibly tight. “I know you’re mad,” he mumbles softly, using that same voice someone uses when they’re approaching a cornered dog.
“Mad? I’m crushed. You broke my heart and my trust. You let me open up to you when you were planning on dumping me like one of your conquests.”
“Faye, please. I’m trying here.”
“So I should give you an award because you tried to apologize to me?”
I don’t know if my heart will ever recover. Sure, it still beats how it was intended, and yes, I can still love with it, but the fissure inside of it will never fully close—will never fully heal.
I’m sorry. I never meant to lead you on, Faye.
This was never going to work.
You were just so blinded by something you could never have.
On repeat. Every minute of every day since he said them.
“I fucked up. I know I did. I shouldn’t have been so harsh. You didn’t deserve any of it, and if I’d found out someone else had ever treated you the way I did, I would’ve killed them. I was trying to make things easier for me, but it only made things harder for you in the process. I made that choice. I was the selfish asshole who ruined the only good thing I had in my life.”
As much as I hate looking at him, I can see the regret in the strained lines of his face, in the blue-black smudges under his eyes.
Tears prick the backs of my eyes. My rage has liquified into sadness, and I can feel my body melting alongside it. “What am I supposed to say, Kit? I can’t do this back and forth with you.”
“I don’t expect you to forgive me, okay? I just needed you to know the truth. I needed you to know how I felt.” His stare never wavers, the gentle tone of his voice like susurrations through a grove of trees. I feel it brush my skin, and my body betrays me by wanting to go to him, to burrow into those strong arms of his.
“If you give me the time, I’ll prove to you how much you mean to me. I promise. No more back and forth. The real thing.”
“The real thing?” I squeak out, my elbow knocking into my silverware by accident as I layer my hands on the table. They’re inches away from Kit’s. I’ve waited four years for the real thing with him.
“Whatever you want. Coffee dates or hand-holding in the dark. Goodnight kisses or walks in the park. Me trying to impress you with my shitty cooking, us watching movies in bed together. I’m willing to give you whatever you want, Faye, because…”
“Because?”
I’m mad at him. I’m mad at him. I’m…tired of being mad at him. A second chance. That’s all he’s asking for. And I know Kit’s a good person. What if I was the one asking for a second chance? I’d want him to consider, right? Everyone makes mistakes. I would know; I’ve made plenty.
He brushes a wayward tear off my face, his touch fracturing my thoughts. No matter what narrative I give him—if he’s the hero or the villain of my story—his touch will always light up my heart. Rays of sun that shine from the inside out, through the barrier of my skin, into the world as a blinding display of color.
He inhales shakily, unsure if he should continue with his train of thought. The anticipation is making me sick. I can’t read the emotion welling in his eyes.
Before I’m given the chance to say anything, seven words stop my heart. Seven words that now take priority over the mindless excuses he gave me at the party. Seven words that drop all the way to my soul, scaring the darkness away, casting a soft afterglow in every corner of my body.
“Because you mean the world to me.”
I don’t know what to say.
His hand covers my own, a nonverbal message that tells me he means it with every fiber of his being.
I thought I knew what he was going to say. I thought it might’ve been an L-word gesture, but it wasn’t. I mean, I guess I’m not that surprised. Love is complicated. Love requires trust and the ability to be vulnerable. I’ve been vulnerable before, and it left scars soul deep.
If I give him a second chance, this is a no U-turn kind of street. Once I career down this road, I can’t go back. I’ll hit a dead end. Am I willing to risk it all for Kit? Risk my heart again?
“I miss you. So much.” Authenticity hangs off every word. It’s there in the deep brown of his eyes, a window to a mind I’ve wanted to live inside for years.
“I miss you too,” I whisper, my eyes refilling with tears, my chest aching from the sobs trying to escape.
Kit’s thumb brushes my knuckles. “If you let me, I want to earn your trust back.”
“I don’t know.”
“Please, Princess. Please let me make things right. I can’t stand what I’ve done to you. Fuck, I deserve to wallow in my own self-hatred, but you shouldn’t have to question how much you mean to me. You want me to chew through my goddamn leash to get to you? I will. You want me to get on my knees and beg? I will. You want me to come clean to Hayes and take the blame for all of this? I will.”
I stare at a fleck of spaghetti sauce that the cleaning team missed in their tornado of towels and wipes, closemouthed.
“I don’t care how long it takes. Make me work for it. I played hockey for eleven years before making it to the NHL. I’m willing to wait even longer for you, because you’re a far better prize than going pro. You can hate me all you want, but what I won’t have is you questioning how amazing you are just because I fucked up.”
“I—”
Our original waiter has somehow materialized right next to me, unfazed by the fact that the two girls at the table have been replaced with a giant man in a skimpy tank top. “We’re so sorry. Your dishes should be out within twenty minutes. There was a hiccup with our presiding chef.”
“Is everything okay?” I ask, exchanging a worried glance with Kit.
“Yes. He’s quite alright. His finger has been successfully located, and he’s on his way to the hospital as we speak,” the spindly teenager says, smiling at me like he didn’t just use the word “finger” in a sentence regarding food. He shuffles off before I can shake him down for more answers.
Kit and I speak at the same time.
“Did he just say ‘finger’?”
“You haven’t eaten yet?”
“It’s fine,” I say dismissively, just as my stomach expels a growl loud enough to be heard over the chatter of the restaurant.
He gives me one of his judgy little looks. “Sure it is. And I didn’t just have a one-sided conversation with your stomach.”
Embarrassment rushes to my cheeks.
Kit reaches into the pocket of his shorts, pulls out a miniature box of Junior Mints, and slides them over to me.
It takes everything in my power not to snatch them up like some greedy bridge troll. “You were carrying a box of Junior Mints with you?”
“I thought I should start to since we were hanging out so often,” he explains, watching as I—gracefully—pop the lid open and pour a handful of those delicious chocolate melts into my palm. I toss them into my mouth—a little less gracefully—and muffle a moan when the sweetness hits my tongue.
“Plus, you get really stabby when you’re hangry.”
I flick a piece of candy at him, but it bounces off him like a tiny pebble. “I don’t get hangry.”
He picks up the mint, tosses it into the air, and catches it in his mouth. “Uh-huh. Then what do you call that time we were momentarily trapped in Ikea and you threatened to disembowel me with a blender blade if you didn’t get a plate of meatballs?”
“That wasn’t my proudest moment,” I admit with a wry grin.
Kit leans back against the seat, chuckling under his breath, a perfect picture of the male specimen. The surly, famous NHL defenseman who’s willing to do everything to win me back…is all mine.
“But…thank you. Nobody’s ever done anything like that for me before.”
“I’d do anything for you, Princess.”
Princess. I’ve missed hearing that name, and it’s never sounded better.
Kit’s eyes duck to my lips, lingering, one bad decision away from pressing his mouth to mine. The crippling need to kiss him pulses in my lower abdomen, journeying all the way to my cunt, where desire throbs even harder and faster behind my cotton-clothed center. My hunger for food is long forgotten. All I can focus on is him. The way he’s looking at me right now, leaning in like he’s about to—
And then I hear feminine laughter from around the corner, growing in volume along with the click-clack of heels.
“They’re coming! Hide!” I hiss, making a shooing motion with my arm.
Kit glances around the space frantically. “Hide?”
“Or leave! I don’t know! If they see you, they’ll know something is up.”
“So, you still want to keep us a secret?”
“For now, yes. Hayes is already livid over the party. I don’t think now is the time for him to indirectly find out about us. Now go!”
Kit wastes no time making a beeline for the exit, his freakish hockey speed allowing him to slip undetected out of the door before Aeris and Lila can possibly catch sight of his retreating figure.
The two reclaim their seats, looking a lot calmer than they were before. The burgundy stain on Lila’s blouse has faded to a light pink, only noticeable if one was a witness to the spaghetti catastrophe.
“You guys got it out,” I observe, suddenly very aware of the fact that Kit and I almost got caught. That was way too close for comfort. And yeah, I could’ve lied and said that he was just dropping by to say hi, but that wouldn’t have explained why no other member of the team was with him. Hayes for sure would’ve stopped by to see Aeris.
Aeris pockets her stain stick. “Oh, yeah. That was a tough-ass stain. But her shirt looks brand-new, right? Well, not brand-new. Just don’t look at it too closely. Or smell it.”
Lila squints her evergreen eyes, curiosity scoring the lines of her face. “Where’d you get that box of Junior Mints?”
Oh, crap. I totally forgot to hide those. I flatten down the lid tabs and stuff the box in my purse, my heart throbbing in my chest and affection accelerating through my veins. Kit was hanging onto them…for me. Even though he said things that weren’t true, his feelings for me never changed.
“I guess I had them with me all along,” I say, curbing a smile, mentally counting down the minutes until I get to see him again.
