17. chapter seventeen
chapter seventeen
here's your white chocolate with a side of commitment issues
T he buzzer echoed through the rink, cutting through the roars and heckles from both the Liberty Lions fans and the other half of the crowd in black and gold. The ice turned into a chaotic blur of green and black, but I kept my eyes on the only jerseys that mattered—numbers eight and twenty-two.
Finn, number eight, was hard to miss. He towered over everyone,even the seniors, and moved like a bloody greyhound, weaving through the other team with ease. Then there was Jesse, number twenty-two. He was more of an underdog, keeping quiet, almost unnoticed. But just when you thought he’d vanished into the background, he’d nick the puck and send it flying straight into the back of the net.
This is the fourth hockey game I’ve been to since being here, so mygrasp of the rules was getting better, although I was pretty sure these refs made up the rules as they went along. Just last week, the Boston University Terriers’ centre player knocked Finn off his feet, sending him tumbling down the ice and contorting in a way that made me cringe just thinking about it.
And did the ref do anything? Did he fuck.
That was when I stood up on my plastic seat, called the ref a knob,and was then collared by one of Liberty staff attending the game and given a warning.
It was worth it, though, seeing the way Jesse was hunched over andlaughing, while Finn smiled at me from the recovery bench. We all laughed about it when the game ended and we headed back to the dorms, and somehow we didn’t notice that the sun was rising by the time we’d stopped talking.
It felt nice, having people like them—people I could actually callfriends. The word didn’t sound as pathetic as it used to, rolling around in my head. There was a time when even thinking about it would make me feel small, like I didn’t deserve it. But now… now it felt different. Lighter, maybe.
But, no matter how good it felt, that fear was still there, alwayslurking. A sharp, nagging pain that reminded me I was risking something by letting them in, by letting myself get closer. It still stabbed at me, twisting in my back every time I thought about how easily it could all slip away.
You’re here for a reason, Tristan.
Maybe that’s what scared me most—that I was getting used tothe idea of belonging, and I knew just how dangerous that could be. Because when you’ve been on your own for as long as I have, you start to wonder if you’ll ever really be part of anything. And the thought of losing this… of losing them… was a kind of ache I wasn’t sure I’d survive.
I just had to keep my wits about me.
I kept my eyes on Jesse and Finn, calling out the occasional swearword when one of the other team's players tried to push their luck, when I felt a nudge on my shoulder.
“Do they play a lot of hockey in England?” Henry asked, the lightsthat hung above the rink reflecting in the corners of his rounded glasses.
There was something more casual about him tonight—nobutton-down or tailored trousers; instead, he had on baggy blue jeans and a grey hoodie, his blonde hair the most dishevelled I’d seen.
I shrugged, pulling the sleeves of my jumper over my knuckles, the chill from the ice making me crave a brew. “Not really, mate. We’ve got the EIHL, but it’s nowherenear as big of a sport as it is over here.”
Henry nodded at me. “Kinda like soccer over here, then.”
Another shrug. “Yeah, I suppose.”
The sound of bodies slamming against the flex-glass barrier stealsboth mine and Henry’s attention, and lucky for them, I can see Finn and Jesse over by the top left side of the rink, and when the whistle blows, the ice is a blur again.
But I feel Henry turn to face me, that awkward air between us onlythickening rather than thinning out. “The girls not coming then?”
The girls.
The empty seats where all four of them should’ve been made mebite my cheek. I missed them more than I’d expected, and their not being here made the rink feel colder, if that was possible. Their slumber party better be worth it, because right now, I could’ve used them—not just for the company, but to put some distance between me and Henry.
I glance at the empty seats once again, before I shake my head athim. “Nope, althoughiwishtheywere.” I mumbled the last part as I rubbed the back of my neck.
It wasn’t that I didn’t like Henry; I just didn’t know him. I suppose having this time now, without the girls, was a blessing. Maybe this was my chance to get a read on him, figure out what his deal is, and then report back to Goldie.
Like her own little spy.
That thought had my mouth prying open. “Any of them caught youreye?” I asked, casually enough, with my eyes following the guys as they shredded the ice.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed him fidgeting with the sleeves of his hoodie, his gaze drifting toward the rink. “The girls are great, real funny,” he said, his voice casual, but there was a hint of something beneath it. “But… there’s just something about Goldie.”
I kept my eyes on the ice as I asked, “Yeah? What’s that?”
He hesitated, a slight crease forming on his brow as he glancedaway, his fingers still tugging at the fabric. “I don’t know… it's feels weird talking about it but, it’s like I keep catching myself thinking about her, you know? Drawn to her.” His laugh broke up his words. “That sounds fucked, right?”
No. No, it didn’t. I was too, I suppose, ever since that night at theMoody Sundays concert. I found myself forgetting the lyrics that I wrote every time my eyes found her. My fingers tripped over the strings of my guitar and the stage felt unsteady beneath my feet, every single time I looked to her. Like a star, in the dead center of the night sky.
Yeah, she grabbed my interest and never let go.
And he was right—there was something about her. Hearing someoneelse talk about her like this, it made those thoughts I’d had only feel more validated.
It was also nice knowing that whatever Goldie was feeling, Henrywas clearly feeling it too.
I eyed him, leaning back in my seat. “So you like her, then?”
It was a stupid question, really, one I purely asked to keep us fromthe feared awkward silence, but I needed something to report back to Goldie—
“I guess…” He shrugged, and something about that boyish charmthat seemed to hover around him evaporated as his eyes fell on me. “But at the same time, I’m not limiting myself, this is college, Tristan.”
It was as though my head morphed into lead when he stoppedtalking, growing heavier by the second. Like the weight of his words was enough to make me collapse.
“Not limiting yourself?” I repeated, slipping into that deep cockneyangst that seemed to slick my words whenever I got frustrated.
Henry had the nerve to roll his eyes at me. “I mean… okay, when yougo cookout, you don’t spend all night eating brisket, you try a little bit of everything, right?”
I didn’t take my eyes off him, not even when the buzzer rang.“You’re confidently comparing girls to meat? ”
He blew a laugh from his mouth as he leaned back. “Well, when you say it like that, it sounds bad—”
“That’s because it is bad,” I cast my eyes over to the rink, barelytaking it in before my head whips back to Henry. “So, let me get this right, you’re attracted to Gold’s, you feel drawn to her, but you also want to get to know every other girl who looks your way because you, the boy who wears button-downs to his 9:00 AM classes, are a player?”
“'Player' is a bit nineties, but yeah, sure.” He shrugged, before his whole body shifted and he liftedhis finger, casting it around the room. “And I’ll tell you something else: every other guy in here is exactly the same; I bet even you are.”
The more I let his words hang between us, and I studied him, themore Henry looked like Andreas, in the moments where he’d slipped from the charming bloke who approached me, to the one calling me names for not snorting the lines he’d assembled so neatly.
“You don’t know the first thing about me, mate.”
I didn’t like the look in his eye as he leaned forward. “Maybe not,but if you’re telling me that you’ve never played into a girl’s feelings or fucked her for the fun of it, then I’d know that you’re a liar.” I bit my cheek again. “Are you a liar?”
I wanted to tell him that I wasn’t, but I couldn’t sit here, with ahand over my heart, and say that I’d never done that. In a flash, Jemyma’s face was in my head. Her fogged-up car windows were in my head. But none of that happened because I’d wanted to lead her on. It happened because some part of me saw potential with us. And we were high and stupid and had no idea what day it was.
When I saw her the next night, it was as though things were backto normal. She was icy, and distant. I was awkward, and submissive to our ever-growing group who only had a taste for one thing.
And that was it. It was sex, not some trick to get her to fall inlove with me, only to cast her to the side like leftovers.
Before I could say anything, a smirk that I wouldn’t have thought aguy like Henry was ever capable of crowning on his face. “See, we’re all the same, dude. Some of us are just more open about it.” He clapped me on the shoulder
I blew a laugh out of my nose, the slight coppery taste in my mouthfrom biting my cheek making me reach for the oversized plastic cup by my feet. I leaned back in my seat as I slipped the straw between my lips, watching Henry like a hawk as he rested his elbows on his knees and gave his attention to the game.
If he wanted to be open about this very well-hidden side of him,then I’d make sure he was open about it, and the only polite way to do that was by letting Goldie know what a misogynistic arsehole the milkybar kid grew up to be.
Goldie?
Today at 21:45PM
hey, are you free tomorrow? i was thinking we could hold up your end of this little arrangement.
are you sure you don’t just miss me?
how did you know that self-righteous attitude is exactly what i’m pining for?
lucky guess.
but yes, i’m free.
meet me at 9:00am at the entrance to washington square park?
9:00am? on a saturday?
you know what? maybe I can just buy a stick and ward away any unwanted female attention with that. consider yourself excused from fake girlfriend duties. t'ra.
you’ll also ward away every other person too, you lunatic.
sounds peaceful.
oh please, i catch you smiling all the time when your around us all.
stalker.
see you tomorrow at 12:00pm
9:30am
1:00pm
that's not how this works.
4:00pm next friday
tristan
3:00pm on sunday.
well now you’re just bargaining with yourself.
i’m sending you a link to where to buy sticks because maybe you are a lunatic.
i’m you’re lunatic, babe
goodnight, weirdo
see you tomorrow at 9 3
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