Prologue #2
I wanted to be there when he exited the shower, skin flushed and hair tousled.
I wanted to be there when he studied so hard his eyes turned red and he pushed himself away from the desk with a tired sigh.
I wanted to witness the moment his breathing changed when he fell asleep, then again when he woke up.
Most of all, I wanted to be the thing he saw first every day, even if I slept across the room.
We’d been dancing this careful little dance for the better part of the year. I never brought up what I wanted next because we had the same destination in mind. There was always time for that kind of talk later. We first needed to get away from our families and settle in at Northwood.
Cam’s eyebrows flattened and panic soared through me.
“I know we can make it work,” I blurted. “It’ll be fun. We can play games, study together, fuck whenever…” I choked a little as I dangled this opportunity in front of him, but he was stiffening all over and I knew I had already lost whatever this battle was about.
I was so fucking stupid.
As if sleeping with me was a lottery win. I was good enough for a small town kid who wanted some fun. But that was the extent of my worth in bed. Or anything, really. The only thing I knew how to do was chase that rubber disk. And even that, Cameron Martinez did better.
“Cam,” I said.
He sucked his teeth. “Fuck, Riley.”
The words rang through me until my fingertips vibrated with anticipation. “Wh-what’s going on?”
He closed his eyes and exhaled, then opened them and looked into mine. “We can’t…”
A quiver ran through my lower lip and I pursed them both to hide it. “We can’t what? Be roommates?”
“It’s just…” He looked away, up, then to my left, then into my eyes again. “We can’t turn this into a…relationship.”
“That’s not…” But I knew it was. That was my endgame. Even if I’d never said it aloud, I knew it in my heart. Cameron Martinez was my endgame. “We’re not…”
He cocked his head as if to challenge me to say it. “Riley, we’re not a couple.”
“I know that,” I said, a frown creasing my brow. “I never said we were. I’m talking about a solution to a practical problem. But if you want to share your room with some random stranger, be my guest. I don’t care.”
He held his breath and stared at me for a few heartbeats. Then, he said softly, “I won’t share the room with anyone.”
I snorted. My family was barely afloat financially — probably because of unwise purchases like a PlayStation 4 or the massive flatscreen mounted to the living room wall — but Cam’s were always one step from bankruptcy and one snide look from shouting their throats out.
He wasn’t getting his own place in a million years.
He’d end up in the team house just like me.
“Why? You could share the room with me, Cam. It’s not a fucking marriage proposal. We’re a good team.”
“That’s not gonna happen,” Cam said flatly.
I shook my head in disbelief. “Why?” I demanded in outrage. “You’ll end up with some random guy in your room. Why not a friend? I could be that guy.”
Cam closed his eyes as if not to see me. It was only after the words were out that I truly understood. I wished I had closed mine too so I wouldn’t see him either. “You can’t be that guy, Riley. You’re going to Detroit. I got accepted in Santa Barbara.”
It took me a long moment to understand the words that he had just said.
A car engine outside my room alerted me that we had less than a minute of talking openly before we had to pretend we were just hockey friends.
“What?” I whispered, already tuning myself for the company of my family in the house.
“I’m not going to Detroit,” he said.
My frown deepens. “You applied to SBU?” I asked.
He nodded, opening his eyes and looking at me emotionlessly. It was like arguing with a shark. There was nothing there. Not even hatred. Just pure survival and perseverance of the strong.
“You never said,” I whispered, my voice trembling with hurt and rage at this betrayal.
He shrugged like it was nothing. He didn’t have to defend himself. One of us was clawing desperately for a chance that wasn’t there; the other was stating facts. We both knew who was walking out of here victorious.
“Cam, for fuck’s sake,” I hissed as Dad killed the engine in front of the house. Car doors opened and shut. “Are you serious? You applied halfway across the country and didn’t say a word.” Not to mention that he was, actually, accepted at Northwood, too, but was choosing the other one.
He inhaled quietly, his chest rising. “I gotta go there, Riley,” he whispered when the front door opened and three chattering people entered the house. “I wanna be far away from everyone.”
“Including me,” I stated bluntly.
He winced for the briefest of moments, then deadened his expression again. “I’m sorry.”
“Oh. Great. We’re good, then.” I partially turned away from him.
“Riley,” he said.
I didn’t answer.
“You don’t get it.” His tone was far more accusatory now and that felt like a goddamn glowing rod of iron branding my ass.
“I don’t get it?” I spun to look at him, my eyes stinging.
I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry, so I blinked fast and bared my teeth.
“For years, I followed you, Captain, and never doubted you. Everyone told me to give up hockey and do something with my life, but I persisted. It was just you, me, and hockey. And nobody except you gets it. They all think I’m a failure.
Just another dumb guy skating on ice. I know what it feels like when you want to run away, Cam.
I’ve been dreaming of running away for years and it’s finally here.
I just never realized I’d have to do it alone. ”
Cam bit his lower lip and looked down, his body swaying shortly toward me like he was going to hug me. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to survive it. Instead, he whispered: “I’m really sorry.”
And that was it.
Cameron Martinez turned to the door and walked out without a goodbye.
Somewhere on the other side of the house, he was greeting my parents on his way out. It was a horrible reminder that I needed to march out of the safety of my room and eat my lunch with them like everything was normal.
They didn’t know. They could never know what had just happened to me.
And I had to sit with them and pretend like nothing had happened. Like my soul was intact and pieces of my heart weren’t scattered all over the place.
My fingers trembled as I rushed to my bedroom door and shut it, inhaling deeply and holding that breath for as long as I could. It slowed my heartbeat, but it did nothing to the welling sob in my chest.
I bit my lip until I could taste iron, then growled and channeled all my emotions into anger. Anger I could use. Anger was good. It burned and purified. It killed when it needed to.
Like a rotting limb, I needed to amputate this brimming sadness and the only way I knew how was with hatred. It was the easiest one to find so quickly. So I did.
On the other side, numbness awaited.