Chapter 2
Chapter Two
SUTTON
Iwake up to sunlight burning through my eyelids and the immediate, crushing memory of last night.
Declan lied to me.
For weeks.
I roll over, and my pillow is damp from crying. My eyes feel swollen, and my throat is raw. I grab my phone to check the time. I have forensic pathology in thirteen minutes.
I don't move.
I can't. My body feels like it weighs a thousand pounds. The thought of getting up, getting dressed, sitting in a classroom, and pretending everything is fine—I can't do it.
I texted my professor some excuse about being sick. Not entirely a lie. My heart is sick. Does that count?
My phone buzzes.
It's Keira.
Keira: How are you holding up?
Me: I'm fine.
Keira: Liar. I'm coming over.
I don't have the energy to argue.
I pull the covers over my head and try to sink into my mattress. Maybe if I stay here long enough, this will all become a bad dream. Maybe I'll wake up, and last night won’t be real.
But I know it’s real. It’s happening.
He's leaving.
The knock comes thirty minutes later.
"Go away," I mumble.
"Absolutely not." Keira opens the door anyway. “Get up.”
I peek out from under the covers. Used tissues clutter my nightstand, my mascara-stained pillowcase is a mess, and the cheese fries Declan brought me last night sit untouched on my desk, congealed and gross.
"I said I'm fine."
"You're not fine. You look like you got hit by a truck." She sits on the edge of my bed. "Have you talked to him?"
“Yes. No. I don’t know.”
I check my phone—twenty-three unread messages from Declan. I delete the notifications without reading them.
Keira sighs. "Sutton, I'm not defending him. What he did was shitty. Really shitty. But you have to at least hear him out."
I sit up, pulling my knees to my chest. "He had weeks, Keira. Everyone knew.”
“I didn’t.”
I glare at her.
"You have to get up," she says finally. "Hiding in bed won't make it better."
"It won't make it worse either."
"Yes, it will. You'll just lie here spiraling." She stands up and pulls back my covers. "Come on. Shower. Get dressed. You have a lab this afternoon."
"I don’t want to go."
"Too bad. Sutton Webb doesn't let some boy destroy her."
She's right. I hate that she's right.
I drag myself to the shower and stand under the hot water until it runs cold. It doesn't help. I still feel hollow.
"Are you going to eat?" she asks.
The thought of food makes me nauseous. "No."
She doesn't push it.
We leave the house together. She walks me to my lab like I’m being delivered to my first day of kindergarten.
“We’ll meet up later,” she promises.
“Yep.”
Lab is torture. We're analyzing blood spatter patterns from a mock crime scene, and normally I'd be fascinated. Today, I can barely focus.
After the lab, I have two hours before my shift at the restaurant. I don't want to go home, so I head to the quad with my textbook, pretending to study.
I'm staring at the same page for twenty minutes when someone sits down beside me.
Too close.
I look up and groan internally.
Cole Crawford. My ex from junior year. We dated for three months before I realized he was one of the most arrogant, insufferable humans on the planet.
When I broke up with him, he acted like I was the one being unreasonable because I didn’t want to date a future plastic surgeon.
He expected me to stay home and be pretty.
"Hey, Sutton." He flashes that smile that used to work on me. "Long time."
"Hey." I don't return the smile.
"Heard you're living in the hockey house now. That's wild." He leans back, all casual confidence. "Is it true you got back together with Declan Hayes?"
My stomach clenches. "It's complicated."
"So that's a no." He grins. "Good. Guy's a tool."
"He's not—" I stop myself. Why am I defending Declan right now?
"You deserve better than some dumb jock. You need someone who’s smart enough to hold a conversation and has all of his teeth." His hand lands on my knee. "You should come to my place tonight. Have a drink. I’ve missed you."
I don't have the energy to tell him to back off. I'm too exhausted, too emotionally drained to deal with his obvious intentions.
Cole wasn’t a bad guy, but he was just so into himself. It drove me crazy.
"Sutton."
My head snaps up.
Declan is standing three feet away, holding two coffee cups. He’s wearing jeans and his Avalon Hockey hoodie. His hair is a mess. He looks like he hasn't slept.
His eyes move from me to Cole. To Cole's hand on my knee.
I see the anger and hurt.
"I brought you coffee," he says quietly. "Your favorite. But I can see you're busy."
He turns and walks away, dropping one of the coffees in the trash. He doesn't even look back.
Cole laughs. "Wow. That was awkward. If you were my girlfriend, I would have knocked my ass out."
I fight to keep from rolling my eyes. Cole wouldn’t raise a hand to anyone. Those were his moneymakers. And his fighting for me was laughable.
I watch Declan disappear into the crowd. I want to chase after him and tell him this isn’t what it looks like. I want him.
But I don't move.
Because he didn't fight. He saw Cole touching me, and he just walked away.
Just like always, Declan Hayes disappears as soon as things get rough.
"I have to go," I say, standing up abruptly.
By the time I get home, it's almost five. I skip my shift, texting my manager another excuse. I can't serve tables with tears streaming down my face.
The house is quiet when I walk in. Too quiet.
Ashton is in the kitchen, making dinner.
"Hey, Sutton."
"Hey." I can't meet his eyes.
"You okay?"
"I'm fine."
"You don't look fine."
I don't respond. What am I supposed to say? That his best friend broke my heart, and I'm barely holding it together?
Crew bounces in, oblivious. "Hey, Sutton! Did you hear about Declan's amazing—" He stops when Ashton elbows him hard in the ribs. "Ow! What?"
"Read the room, idiot," Ashton hisses.
Crew's face falls. "Oh. Right. Sorry, Sutton.”
"It's fine." I brush past them toward the stairs. "Excuse me."
Pierce is coming down as I'm going up. He flattens himself against the wall to let me pass, his eyes carefully averted.
They all know.
Of course, they all know. They’re his best friends. They all knew about the potential offer and didn’t tell me.
I’m the outsider here.
Declan's door is closed.
I want to knock. I want to burst in and demand answers. I want to scream and cry and make him understand how much he hurt me.
But I don't.
I go to my own room and close the door.
He didn’t text me and accuse me of cheating on him with Cole. He didn’t say I hurt him.
He just gave up.
There's a soft knock on my door.
My heart leaps.
"Come in."
It's Ashton.
Disappointment crashes through me.
"Hey," he says gently. "Dinner is ready.”
He's holding a plate of spaghetti. The gesture is so kind that it makes me want to cry again.
"Thank you." I take the plate even though I can't imagine eating.
"For what it's worth," Ashton says carefully, "he's miserable, too."
"Good."
"Sutton, you really should talk to him."
"I don't want to hear it, Ashton. I know you're his friend. I know you have to take his side."
"I'm not taking sides. You're both my friends. And you're both hurting." He sits on the edge of my bed. "But maybe you should talk to him. Really talk. Not just yell."
"What's left to say? He made his choice. He chose hockey. Just like his dad wanted."
"Did he?”
I stare at him.
“You’re not being fair, Sutton. Making him choose isn’t cool. You’re not even hearing him out."
“I’m not an idiot. I knew he was destined to play, but he led me to believe there was an option.”
“His dad's been controlling his entire life, and he doesn't know how to break free." Ashton stands up. "I'm not saying you have to forgive him. I'm just saying, maybe listen before you both do something you can't take back."
He leaves before I can respond.