Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
SUTTON
The arena is packed.
I'm sitting in the student section with Keira, both of us wearing our Avalon gear. I’m a little sore after a rough hit during my game, but we won, and it was awesome.
"I'm so hyped," Keira says, bouncing in her seat. "First game energy is unmatched."
"I know. I love it." I scan the ice, watching the guys warm up. I spot Declan immediately.
God, he's beautiful to watch.
"He looks good," Keira observes.
"He always looks good."
"I meant his skating, perv."
I laugh, but she's right. He makes skating look like floating, even when he’s loaded down with all his gear.
Behind us, a group of parents is settling into their seats. I hear Mr. Hayes's voice immediately—loud, authoritative, and impossible to ignore.
"Excuse me, those are our seats," someone says politely.
"We're sitting here," Mr. Hayes responds. "Find somewhere else."
I roll my eyes. Of course, he's being difficult.
Keira leans over. "Is that Declan's dad?"
"Unfortunately."
"He seems intense."
"That's one word for it."
The parents behind us continue their conversation, and I try to tune them out. But it's hard when they're literally right behind my head.
"So is it true?" a woman asks. "About the Pacific Northwest scout?"
"Very true," Mr. Hayes says proudly. "One of the best in the business. He's here specifically for Declan."
My stomach does a weird flip.
"That's wonderful," someone else says. "Your son must be so excited."
"He will be once he signs."
Wait. What?
"He's already got an offer?" the woman asks, surprised.
"As good as. We’ve been in communication for weeks. Barring any disasters tonight, Seattle wants him. We'll finalize everything after the game."
The blood drains from my face.
"That's incredible," another parent chimes in. "How did you manage that?"
"I pulled some strings, called in some favors. That's what connections are for." Mr. Hayes's voice is smug. "Declan's got the talent, but talent only gets you so far. You need someone who knows how to work the system."
“Is he looking forward to finally getting into the league?” someone asks.
“Absolutely,” Mr. Hayes answers.
Keira nudges my shoulder. “What’s wrong? You’re stiff as a statue.”
I can't respond. I can't breathe.
Everything clicks into place like a terrible puzzle.
The way Declan's been acting. The distance. The secrets. The weird comments about California and Seattle. The way he's been avoiding talking about the future.
He's known.
He's known for weeks that he was leaving, and he didn't tell me. Is he even going to graduate? Is he going to walk away from his last year in school to play in the NHL? Is he going to walk away from me?
"Sutton." Keira's voice is more urgent now. "Breathe."
"I'm fine," I whisper.
“Do you want to leave?”
"No." I force myself to sit up straight. "I want to watch the game."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
I'm not sure of anything. But I'm not running.
The arena lights dim, and the announcer's voice booms through the speakers. The starting lineups are called. Declan's name gets a huge cheer.
He skates to center ice with Ashton and Crew. I’m so proud of him.
And so damn pissed.
The puck drops.
The game is incredible.
Even though I’m hurt and angry, I can't deny that Declan is playing like he's possessed. He's everywhere—stealing pucks, setting up plays, and driving toward the net with a ferocity I've rarely seen from him.
"He's on fire," Keira murmurs.
She's right. The arena erupts when he scores.
I should be cheering. I should be on my feet screaming.
Instead, I just sit there, numb.
Behind me, Mr. Hayes is beside himself with pride. "That's my son! That's what I'm talking about!"
I want to throw up.
The game continues. Declan assists on another goal. Then another. He's playing the game of his life, and everyone knows it.
"The scout must be losing his mind," someone behind me says.
"He's exactly what Seattle needs," Mr. Hayes responds. "A center who can think three plays ahead."
I don't know why I'm torturing myself. Maybe I need to see this. I need to see him succeed at the thing that's apparently more important than me.
With two minutes left, he makes one more play—a spin move that leaves two defenders in his wake, followed by a no-look pass to Pierce, who buries it.
The arena loses its mind.
The final buzzer sounds. Avalon wins five to one.
The team celebrates on the ice, hugging and shouting. Declan is mobbed by his teammates. Even from here, I can see him smiling in a way I haven't seen in weeks.
A few girlfriends, including Bree, make their way down to congratulate their guys.
"Do you want to go congratulate him?" Keira asks.
"No."
I stand up and push my way through the crowd.
I make it outside before the tears start.
Keira races after me.
"I'm fine," I tell her.
"You're crying."
She doesn't say anything for a moment. “You didn’t know?”
"No."
"That's so messed up."
"Yeah." I wipe my eyes. "I can't believe he didn't tell me."
"Maybe he was trying to find the right time."
"There's no right time to tell your girlfriend you're moving across the country. You just tell her. You don't hide it and hope she doesn't find out." I laugh bitterly. "God, I'm so stupid."
"You're not stupid."
"I am. I fell for it again. The whole time, he was planning his exit."
"You don't know that."
I give her a look. “Did you not watch the same game I did?”
"What are you going to do?"
“I don’t know. Go home. I can’t be here.”
“Do you want me to come with you?”
I shake my head. “No. I need time to think.”
"Okay. But call me if you need me. Any time, I don't care if it's three in the morning."
"I will. Thank you."
She hugs me tight. "Good luck."
"Yeah. Thanks."
I go home to the empty house, which feels really weird. It’s too quiet.
I pace my room, trying to organize my thoughts and figure out what I'm going to say.
How could you lie to me?
How long have you known?
Were you ever going to tell me?
Do I mean anything to you at all?
The questions pile up, each one more painful than the last.
I think about the past few weeks. The way he's been distant. The way he shut down whenever I asked what was wrong.
It all makes sense now.
He was pulling away, protecting himself, and making it easier to leave.
And I was so busy trying to trust him and be the cool girlfriend who doesn't overreact that I completely missed what was happening.
My phone buzzes. It's Declan.
Declan: Where are you? We’re heading out to celebrate!
Celebrate.
He wants to celebrate.
Like everything is fine. Like he didn't just play the game that's going to take him away from me.
I don't respond.
I just sit there in the dark, my heart breaking into smaller and smaller pieces.
He's leaving.
I just got him back, and now he’s gone.