It’s been a week without Sadie now, sober or otherwise, and it’s started to affect my game. We played home and away last weekend and are scheduled for two away games this coming weekend. So far, we’re sitting about where we were last year—close to the top, with Boston College, Michigan, and Harvard being the top competitors.
My focus is good, but not great—disrupted a bit as I find myself lingering and arriving earlier every day to the rink, hoping to catch even a glimpse of her.
I miss the way she makes me calm, sure.
But I miss her.
Sadie was my friend before anything else, even if her stubborn mouth wouldn’t let her call me that out loud. Those two months of morning skates are now some of my favorite memories on and off the ice. I want more of it.
And yet, she is out of reach.
For the time being, I am waiting on her and making myself worthy of her.
A week of therapy isn’t enough, but it’s a start. Sadie can’t be my crutch if I want her to be mine. I won’t put that on her ever again.
The library is slightly cool, matching the temperature outside. Like most of the old, on-campus buildings, it’s usually either freezing cold or boiling.
I’ve stayed up on my studies, as is required for the team, but even further I’ve stayed up on my captain duties—which includes hosting team study days so we can all exchange professor information, helpful hints or common test questions. It’s still hard, being around them and faking smiles, but there is still a wound in me that hasn’t healed. It won’t be overnight.
I have to remind myself of that a lot.
The good thing is that Toren Kane usually makes himself scarce for anything team related, which means the ever present reminder on our ice time doesn’t follow me off it.
Before I can make it to the table in the back of the first floor that’s slightly rowdier than the rest, something else catches my eye.
The little figure skater that I’ve been looking for, dressed in tight jeans and another large t-shirt, half-huddled beneath the brawny figure skater, Luc. The one that makes my spine prick with uncomfortable jealousy—something I’m not exactly used to.
“Wait, Sadie,” I call out, getting a stern glare from the librarian at the desk nearby. I shrug at her, considering we aren’t on the silent floor.
They’re both ignoring me, I realize with a rise of frustration, and they don’t stop their hurried movements through the front doors, but I follow anyway.
Slamming out of the library, I start shouting a little louder as we empty into the small parking lot.
Sadie spins, her ear to her phone and a panicked look in her wide gray eyes as she takes me in—and for some reason, my presence seems to make her more upset. It feels like a kick to the gut. She spins away, marching in a little pattern as she continues to dial and redial someone.
Luc sighs, and nods towards me—like we’re friends.
Which is fine, unless he’s sleeping with Sadie, and then I think I’d like to knock him on his ass.
He walks to stand next to me, about my height and build—an athlete through and through, which somehow makes me more infuriated with him, despite having never spoken to the man before.
Shoving a hand through his jet black hair, he cocks his head towards me, while I refuse to take my eyes off the pacing angry figure skater in front of us, wishing I could do something.
“Rhys, yeah?”
I nod, clenching my jaw a little while Freddy’s voice rings in my ears. Has trouble staying with skating partners and not sleeping with them. I think he and Sadie used to be a thing.
“Luc.” He looks over at Sadie again. Another possessive urge to rip his eyes out rolls through me, but I manage to hold onto my sanity. “This is ridiculous. She shouldn’t be this scared to miss practice.”
“What’s happening?”
He starts to speak, but stops.
Sadie shoves her phone into her back pocket and spins with a little shriek, kicking at the ground hard enough that both Luc and myself jump forward like we can stop her.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, suddenly feeling like I’m intruding and hating every second. It’s hard to swallow; harder not to reach for her.
“Rhys, please, I can’t do this with you right now.” She dismisses me, her hand waving as she curses and redials on her phone again. “Where is she?”
“Relax, Sadie—just miss the fucking practice,” Luc says as he steps closer to her and I feel a little sick. “He can’t—”
“He can. And it doesn’t matter—if I miss, then by the school standards I could lose my scholarship.”
Swallowing down the doubt aching against my skin, I step forward again, tightening my hand on the strap of my backpack. “Can I help?”
“Rhys.” She sighs, looking a little like a volcano about to erupt. “Please, I—”
“I know,” I cut her off, stepping closer until my shoulder lightly pushes Luc out of our little bubble. She starts to soften just under my gaze, enough that I dare to touch her, reaching out and grabbing her hand, rubbing circles into the skin of her palm. “Just tell me how I can help you, Gray. Fuck—I hate seeing you look like you’re about to panic.”
Growing bolder with her, I release her hand and grasp her chin lightly, tilting her eyes to mine, heart aching at the hopeless, frightened look in her eyes.
“Tell me.”
She melts into my hand and nods, and part of me—the very ridiculously male part of my brain wants to look at Luc now and smirk at him, display her in my arms as if to say See? She’s only soft for me. I’m the one she comes to—not you. But I manage to keep my attention on her.
“My brothers are home from school—and my neighbor usually watches them.” I nod as she whispers everything to me, never letting go of my gentle grip on her chin. “A-and Aurora should be home, but she’s not answering her phone, and I can’t miss my practice—”
“You need me to get your brothers?” I nod. “And take them where?”
“It’s fine.” She jerks back, immediately defensive of the help being offered. “No, I just—”
“Sadie,” I say a little firmer, hardening my tone. “I know where your house is, I remember it. Where do I need to take them?”
Her eyes line with tears, but she doesn’t let one of them free as she nods to me. “Okay, yeah. Just… Can you bring them to the dorms? Rora’s probably napping between her classes. Just—yeah. I’ll give you her number and she can pick them up outside the dorms.”
I nod, and let her take my phone to input Aurora’s number. “Now, just go—”
She hesitates, even as Luc picks up her bag from the ground and waits for her. “Rhys—”
“I know…” I swallow down every word I want to say and offer her one of my masked smiles. “It changes nothing. Doesn’t mean we can’t be friends. Okay, Gray?”
She bites down on her lip hard, nodding her head even as her eyes refuse to stop scanning over my form. “Okay, Rhys.”
I can’t explain why it hurts so much that she doesn’t call me hotshot.
She grabs her bag from Luc’s outstretched hand and turns on her heel, not bothering to wait for him. When she’s out of earshot, Luc turns to me and slaps a hand on my shoulder.
“I don’t know if you’ve met Coach Kelley.”
I shake my head. “Only briefly.”
“Well,” he huffs another breath, closing his eyes and shaking his head—as if this is the last thing he wants to do. “If you have feelings for her—real feelings, and I think it’s clear you do, then you need to watch out for her.”
I fight the urge to shove him and growl, I do watch out for her, paying attention to the tone of his voice, the defeated look in his eyes.
“She might listen to you about that overly intense coach of hers.”
My brow furrows and I adjust my backpack on my right shoulder, slipping the other strap on. “She said that’s normal—that he’s just like that with everyone.”
He shakes his head with a huff. “Kelley’s not normal. And if you don’t know what’s going on in that fucking rink—”
“Laroux!” Sadie shouts, stamping her foot. “If you make me late, I’ll cut your fucking balls off and hang them on my dash.”
A smile pulls at my mouth just watching her, and Luc takes off, not bothering to finish his statement before he’s jogging after her.
On the front steps of an identical, but slightly brighter house than the one I recognize as Sadie’s, Liam and Oliver sit with their backpacks on, alone.
And next door, on their own lawn, there’s a man lying flat, facedown.
The sight of the body so close to the boys scares me enough that I barely get the car in park before sprinting towards them. Liam howls when he sees me, a confused little smile taking over his face as he stands, slapping Oliver’s shoulders.
“Hey, buds,” I call, slowing my gait and donning a smile as if that could distract them from my thoughts screaming danger over the stranger mere yards from them. “You okay?”
“Are you here for us?” Liam asks, instead of answering my question and a pit starts to form in my stomach. “Ms. B isn’t home, so we don’t know what we’re supposed to do.” He shrugs his little shoulders.
I look over towards their house again. The man is surrounded by a few cans and bottles, as well as a puddle of vomit, but he’s breathing. I step back and survey the rest of the cul-de-sac.
“Yeah, I am.”
Liam howls again, jumping up and down in place like he can’t hold in any of his enthusiasm.
Looking toward Oliver, I ask, “Do you two know that man?”
Liam chews on his lip but nods, albeit hesitantly. “That’s my dad.”
Fuck. I think I’m going to be sick.
“Sadie’s gonna be mad,” Oliver says, standing beside his brother, his backpack sliding off one shoulder. The look he gives me is wary at best. “She hates when people know about him.”
Liam looks a little worried at that. “But she likes Rhys.”
“Exactly.” His brother chuckles, before staring back at me with that same skeptical gaze. “Sadie sent you here?”
It’s clear Liam doesn’t understand, but I do. Oliver’s twelve, but he knows Sadie didn’t tell me; that she hid this from me.
I try to focus through the racing thoughts in my head.
“Yeah. I’m just your chauffeur.”
“I don’t know what that is.” Liam sighs.
“It means I’m driving you guys to Rora.”
“Yes!” Liam shouts, fist punching into the air and darting to my car without a second glance at his father passed out in a twisted mosaic of beer bottles across the green.
As if this is a regular occurrence.
Oliver waits, a strange mix of fear and want across his face, hidden just slightly behind his mask of anger.
“I’ll stop by The Chick if you want,” I offer. “We’ve got time.”
A hint of a smile pulls at Oliver’s face and Liam squeals, “That’s Ollie’s favorite!” while continuing to pull at the door handle on the car.
I know it’s his favorite. I asked Sadie weeks before, after a grinding make-out session in the passenger side of her car, with her straddling my thighs. I saw yet another bag of to-go trash from a trip to The Chick and teased her about her addiction, which she clarified was Oliver’s addiction. She made it sound like a convenience at the time.
Now, I know better.
“Let’s go.” I nod over my shoulder. “Get some food and I’ll let you control the music.”
And just like his sister, Oliver brightens. My heart is twisting in my chest, but I keep it together and let them sing ABBA songs the entire way to the drive-thru, trying to latch onto their happiness as if it’ll erase the anxiety of Luc’s words mixing with the image of their house.
