Chapter 22
Ryan
It’s been a little over a week since our game against Boston College, and my game play has continued to get better.
I even had two assists during our home game two days ago.
I’m finally feeling like I belong on the ice, like my life is finally clicking into place.
Hell, I even have a therapy appointment later today.
Except this morning I woke up to plastic skeletons on some of the doors in Young’s Hall. And fake cobwebs stretched across the main area. Fucking orange and black everywhere.
Should be used to it by now. But seeing that fake graveyard display in the quad still made me dry heave behind the science building.
I slide into my usual third-row seat, fifteen minutes before Introduction to Ethics starts. Same chair. Same laptop. Same notes template. All things I can control.
But I can’t type the date. The cursor just sits there, blinking.
Six more days.
Six more days until the anniversary.
My lungs won’t expand, as if someone's standing on my chest.
Merci drops into the seat next to me. “You look like someone pissed in your cereal.”
I force a smile. Maybe if I fake being okay, he'll leave it alone. “Just tired.”
“Bullshit.” He pulls out his laptop and slams it on the desk harder than necessary, making the girl in front of us turn around. “What's going on? Do I need to kick Connor's ass? Because I will. I've been working out.”
“It's not Connor.” I shift away from him, angling my body toward the front of the room. “And I don't want to talk about it.”
“Got it. I'm here, though, if you need anything.” He taps a fingernail on the desk. “How'd you do on last week's test? I passed, but barely. Chen is a fucking sadist.”
“Did okay.” Actually, I aced it. My thumb traces the laptop's edge. “I, uh, I could help you study for the next one. If you want. I take pretty detailed notes.”
“Oh, God. Yes, please. It’s so hard to focus on Kantian ethics when my man is sending me pictures that are decidedly not ethical.” Merci winks, then lets out a dramatic sigh. “And when he gets back from away games we have a lot of catching up to do.”
“We were gone for three days.”
Merci rolls his eyes. “Yeah, but you're with your husband all the time. You probably get to fuck on the road. Give handies on the bus.” He fans himself with his hand. “Ooh, bet that's hot.”
If only.
Sure, we’ve fooled around. And yeah, it’s hot. But the closest we’ve gotten to him touching anything other than my cock is his hands on my shoulders.
And I can’t hear “It’s okay” once more.
Because it’s not fucking okay.
I dig my thumbnail into the seam of my laptop, pressing hard enough that it hurts.
Pathetic. I’m so fucking pathetic.
“Something happened.” Merci practically vibrates in his seat. “I knew it. It was only a matter of time after you caught him spanking it.”
I press my palms against my eyes until I see spots. “I regret sharing that with you and Eli.”
“Hey, you made me run three miles. You owed me gossip.” His breath hits my ear as he leans closer. “So? Did you two finally fuck?”
Every muscle in my back tenses. The heat of his breath on my neck makes my skin crawl. I lean away, jaw clenching so hard my teeth ache. “No. Nothing like that.”
Merci throws himself back in his chair, letting out a dramatic groan. “Are you kidding me? At this rate, I'll die of old age before you two actually fuck. “
I rub my hands over my thighs. “I . . . struggle with some stuff.”
“Shit. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to push.”
I sigh. “It's okay.”
“No, it's not. You already know most of my history." Merci's fingers drum against his milkshake cup, quieter now. “And Zach, he struggles too.”
Merci looks like he’s about to say more, but the doors open and Professor Chen walks in.
I sit up quickly, fingers positioned over my keyboard, ready to type notes, to focus on philosophical arguments instead of the calendar counting down in my head.
While Professor Chen pulls up his slides, I open a new tab to check my email. Just need to keep my mind occupied.
I scan through the subject lines—library newsletter, pizza special, flu shot reminder. And one from the Bursar's Office.
Subject: Urgent - Scholarship Status
My stomach plummets. The fluorescent lights become too bright, too sharp. Everything in me screams not to open it. But I have to know.
So, I click.
Mr. Henneman,
This email is to notify you of a recent change to your student account.
We regret to inform you that your athletic scholarship has been rescinded, effective immediately.
Please contact our office as soon as possible to discuss alternative payment arrangements for your tuition and fees.
Failure to resolve this matter within ten business days will result in the suspension of your enrollment.
Sincerely,
Crestwood University Bursar's Office
The screen blurs. I blink, but my vision doesn't clear. I try again, and this time, the tears overflow.
My scholarship.
It’s gone.
My chest locks up, throat too tight. I can't breathe. The room is closing in, the walls pressing down on me.
Why? Why is he doing this?
“Ryan? What's wrong?”
Merci sounds far away, like he’s underwater.
I slam my laptop shut, then shove it into my bag. The zipper catches, and I can’t get it unstuck.
Fuck it.
“Ryan—”
I run down the row. Something snags my foot, and I stumble, my knee hitting the ground. Mr. Chen calls my name, but I get up and keep running.
The door crashes against the wall as I burst through. The hallway’s empty, silent. I sprint toward the exit.
Don’t know where I’m going. Just need to get away.
I thought Connor cared about me. Thought I could finish college, get my degree, and build a life worth living. I even thought I could start going to therapy again. Maybe get better.
God, I’m so fucking stupid.
Mom would know what to do. Would fight for me. But she's gone. They're all gone.
And now, I'm losing everything else.