Chapter 18
HAILEY
"Someone's in a mood," Mallory said the moment I walked into her hospital room, her small face lighting up.
Well, that was because I fucking was. Cue exhibit:
Fuckface : There are a lot of ways you can make me shut up...although, I have to say, I'm quite partial to some...specific methods, if you're up for it.
I shoved my phone into my pocket, and my phone buzzed against my thigh—another text from that smug bastard, no doubt. I'd spent the last twenty minutes trading increasingly heated messages with him, each one making my blood simmer hotter than the last.
The blatant innuendo in that text made my jaw clench. That obnoxious bastard really thought he was God's gift to women, didn't he? The way he'd turned my prank against him into some kind of perverted floor show, complete with hip thrusts, made me want to bleach my eyeballs.
At least the girls had gotten it on video. Zoe was already talking about editing it into something that would haunt him for the rest of the semester. The thought sparked a vindictive pleasure in my chest—finally, some ammunition that might actually stick.
"I'm always in a mood," I replied, dropping my bag and settling into the chair beside her bed. "It's called being an adult."
"Hmm." She studied me with that unnerving intensity that reminded me she'd been watching the world from hospital beds while I was busy growing calluses. "But there's something different. You're all... sparkly."
"Sparkly? What am I, Edward freaking Cullen?"
"No, like..." She tilted her head, the movement so delicate it made my heart twist. "Like you're irritated, but also kind of... charged up? Happy-mad."
Happy-mad? What the hell did that even mean? Heat flared in my cheeks, nonetheless. This teenager was way too perceptive for her own good. "You're imagining things. I'm just normal-mad because adulting."
Before she could push deeper—and she always did, peeling back my layers until I was raw and exposed—I blurted out, "Did you tell Lively that Snickers are my favorite?"
Her eyes widened, all innocent surprise. "What? No, I didn't."
"Are you sure? Because someone told him." I thought of the candy bar still tucked in my gear bag, the one I hadn't thrown away despite every instinct screaming at me to do so.
"Well, it definitely wasn't me," she insisted. "Why, did he get you one?"
I pursed my lips, debating whether to admit it. But Mallory must have seen the answer in my expression because she squealed.
"He did ! Did you eat it?"
"No." The word shot out like a bullet, so fast it felt like a lie.
Mallory threw her head back and laughed—clear and bright in the sterile room, a reminder of why I did everything I did. "Okay, whoa. Someone would think I was bullying you or something."
"Insinuating that I would eat anything from that jerk is an act of premeditated violence."
Her genuine amusement made something tight in my chest ease slightly. I leaned back in the chair with exaggerated drama. "It's great to know you're not conspiring against me."
"Please. He's too busy trying to beat me at Mario Kart for that. Plus, you two generate enough drama on your own."
Before I could argue, the door slid open. Two familiar figures appeared in the doorway, and my spine snapped straight like I'd been caught goofing off.
The Hartleys…our adoptive parents.
"Oh, look! It's Hailey! She's here today!
" Karen Hartley's voice carried genuine excitement, though her smile turned cautious as she stepped into the room.
That was my fault—I'd taught her to approach me carefully over the years, flinching away from every attempt to cross the distance I'd deliberately placed between us.
David followed behind her, his expression warm but wary. "We didn't think we'd catch you here this afternoon."
That was my fault too. I'd skipped Sunday dinner three times in a row, making excuses about practice and studying that weren't entirely lies but weren't the full truth either.
I sprang to my feet, fingers tightening around my gear bag strap. "I was just leaving. Practice stuff."
"No, please," David said with that gentle firmness he always used with me, like I was a wounded animal he didn't want to startle. "Stay. We haven't seen you in weeks."
"Yeah, Hailey!" Mallory's tone turned petulant. "You just got here!"
My jaw ticked. "I just wanted to drop by. You know we've got Championships coming up and—"
"You always do this." Mallory folded her arms, chin set in that stubborn jut that told me I was circling a crash-out.
"Do what?"
"Run away as soon as Mom and Dad get here."
The words hit like blunt force trauma. I could feel a headache coming on, knowing she had me pinned. "Fine. But just for twenty minutes."
Mallory's entire face lit up like I'd given her some extraordinary gift instead of reluctantly agreeing to stick around.
The awkwardness settled over us like a blanket until Mallory opened her mouth again.
"Mom! Dad! Hailey was just telling me about her fight with this one guy who likes her."
"Hey! What the hell, Mallory!" Heat flared in my cheeks.
My unrepentant sister giggled and stuck out her tongue. "Your life drama is much more fun than mine."
Karen's eyes brightened with interest. "Oh? Someone from the team?"
"Not my team," I muttered, regretting every life choice that had led to this conversation. "And it's not like that."
David set a gift bag on the bedside table. "Your coach mentioned the rink situation when I ran into her. Something about sharing with the men's team?"
My head snapped up. "You talked to Coach Hawkins?"
He nodded, his smile gentle. "We try to keep up with what's happening with both our girls."
Both our girls . The words settled uncomfortably against my skin. I knew what I was: an obligation. A bonus responsibility they'd taken on to get Mallory.
"You didn't have to do that," I said, aiming for casual but probably landing closer to hostile. "Follow my hockey stuff. It's just college hockey."
But it was more than 'just college hockey' to me. It was my lifeline—the only plan that made sense. Play well enough to go pro, make enough money to take care of Mallory and pay the Hartleys back for every doctor's visit, every tuition payment, every act of kindness.
"We enjoy supporting you," Karen said, her voice soft but firm. "Just like we do Mallory."
I didn't know how to handle their devotion. They really didn't have to try this hard with me, but they did, and it made the guilt sharper.
"Thanks," I managed, standing again. "I should really get going now."
Mallory's face fell. "It hasn't even been ten minutes, Hails."
Guilt stabbed through me as I ruffled her hair. "I'll come back tomorrow, Mal. Promise."
David took a step toward me. "We could give you a ride after, if you want to stay longer. We don't mind waiting."
Another act of kindness I couldn't accept. Another reminder of the growing debt I could never repay. "No, it's okay. You guys came to see Mallory, so you should stay longer. I can get back to campus by myself."
David's eyes held mine, and I saw resignation flash before it was replaced by that steady patience that always made me want to run. "Alright. Take care, Hailey. We're proud of you, you know. Come have dinner with us soon, okay?"
"Sure. I'll see you soon." The words scratched my throat. "Bye, Mal."
I slipped out before anyone could say anything else, before the pressure behind my eyes could solidify into something dangerous.
My chest felt too tight, like it always did after these interactions.
They were good people—the best people. They loved Mallory with a fierceness that matched my own, and they kept trying to extend that same love to me despite my deliberate sharp edges.
My phone buzzed as I reached the elevators—a message from the Blizzard Belles' group chat. The girls had finished editing the video of Lively's ridiculous performance. My lips curved as I typed back a laughing emoji.
As the elevator doors began to close, I caught a glimpse of a familiar figure turning the corner—tall, broad-shouldered, with tousled dirty blonde hair. Lively. And he wasn't alone. A tall blonde in a white coat was walking beside him, leaning into him with obvious interest.
My eyes narrowed. "Unbelievable." That idiot was picking up women even here, in a freaking hospital. Just seeing that stupid grin on his face pissed me off all over again.
It was going to be fun, bullying him right back and watching that smile finally wipe off his face.
"This crazy bastard."
I watched the Rink Runners file into the rink as the Blizzard Belles finished our cooldown sessions, the words bitter as battery acid on my tongue.
My gaze locked onto Lively, who was strolling in like he owned the place, as usual, that insufferable smile playing on his lips.
Of course, seeing him always managed to piss me the hell off, but what pissed me off more than anything was how he didn't look frustrated at all by the revenge tactics I'd unleashed on his team over the last few days.
The past week had been a blur of escalating pranks—child-sized jerseys that led to an impromptu shirtless bodybuilding contest, blue food coloring that turned into campus memes, rigged locker room benches, waxed skate blades, shaving cream helmets, hot pink goalie pads.
Each attempt to humiliate him only seemed to fuel whatever sick enjoyment he was getting from this war.
Like I was feeding a monster I couldn't control, and each new prank just made it stronger, hungrier. More focused on me .
I was still figuring out whether I liked that or not.
"That bastard keeps making edits out of that video we posted," Gina said, shoulder bumping mine as she nodded toward her phone screen. "Look at this one."