Chapter 6 Sonya
SONYA
Months later, I’m cutting across a random park, holding a takeout order from this place with the crispiest fries that’s out of my usual route. I’m looking ahead when my heart kicks hard, catching me off guard.
Fuck, is that who I think it is…?
This is the last place I thought I’d run into him, especially after I’ve been so good at avoiding him for so long. We’ve only seen each other in passing, in that whenever Hughes shows up anywhere, I’m turning around and leaving.
But now? There he is.
Blond hair covered by a cap. His head down as if ashamed. His seated posture on a park bench makes him look absolutely downtrodden.
I blink hard, my body going still for a beat.
I don’t fully understand what I’m looking at.
Because this is Hughes. The most happy-go-lucky hockey player I’ve had the misfortune of meeting. So why does he look…so sad…?
It’s none of my business. He’s annoying.
Yet, I’m staring. The bench he sits on is all I see.
Now I’m thinking I might have a clue about what’s going on.
It hasn’t been that long since they lost their game tonight.
The Wings have gone from reigning champions to…
this losing streak they haven’t been able to shake off.
That has got to sting, I’m sure of that, but that’s not my issue.
My issue, for the past year, is perfecting my performance.
A big opportunity is coming up. Whispers in the ballet world. There’s been talks of a grand finale for a choreographer—a swan song. It would catapult my career into being principal. The first South Asian to be one. My dream since I was a kid living with my foster guardians.
I should go home and rest up, because it’s going to be another full day of practice tomorrow, so why am I starting to walk towards him? My feet are betraying me. But my mouth doesn’t. “Gross, it’s you.” At least, I can keep my distance from Hughes this way.
“Sonya?”
“That’s my name.”
He smiles, sitting up straighter. “What are you doing here?”
I blink, confused and wanting to ask the same question at myself. “Nothing. I was going for a walk.” My words come out honestly. “Spotted you and stopped…for no reason.” My feet shuffle. My mouth runs. “Oh yeah, and Quinn told me about the loss tonight.”
“Pretty sure most of the city knows about it considering how badly we bombed.” His smile is still on his face, even with those terrible words out of him.
“Well then,” is all I can say.
“Yup.”
My eyes take his smile in. He’s so strange. He looked so defeated a second ago. Now he’s putting on this smile, talking about an awful situation.
Is that why I can’t stop staring at him? It’s too strange to see that Hughes can be human. Multi-faceted. Not just a playboy with a reputation, the loud and obnoxious captain, and the annoying flirt fuckboy.
Stumped, I sit.
Offer my fries.
They’re cold and probably soggy now anyway. Same as my posture. It’s probably why he hands me his jacket. That—and the rain pouring over us.
The next while is kind of a blur, because how can I pay attention when my head’s rattled at the sight of Hughes not being…Hughes?
Still, he tries to make a joke. I pass on hearing it. The sadness that was on his face is now a smile that stays. I don’t like it, but I also like it. Confusion wars with my mind—though, I don’t let him see any of it.
Autopilot is where my mouth goes. Meeting his silliness with my snark.
Reasons unknown to me, he laughs. A lot.
I only snap out of it when I hear him say, “You should go out with me. If you want?”
“It’ll be a lot of fun,” he follows up, lightning-quick. “I’d like to take you to dinner and get to know you.”
My heart stutters, I think. Not sure why it would.
Maybe because I can’t tell if he’s being serious or not.
Whatever the case, enough words have been said.
Enough fries have been shared. I’ve sat on this park bench for too long.
With someone who doesn’t get it. That ballet comes first—in my life, period.
My arms move his jacket off and return it back to him. “No, thanks, Hughes. But I’ll see you around. Feel…better, okay?”
The rain is still going. So are my feet now, away from Hughes.
I ignore this strange worry in my chest.
I can’t be feeling bad over a boy who’s been losing a few games out of so many wins he’s had. Anyway, at least he’s back to smiling again. That’s something.
I try to go back to forgetting him, but it’s harder than I want it to be.