CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
JULIUS
I don’t know what’s gotten into us all today, but we better keep it around.
Especially Kaylah.
We’ve been playing a good fucking game against Mordon University, which is weird because nothing much has changed since the tense conversation Kaylah and I had the other day, or the argument she had with Tamarah a few days after. This should be a shit show of a game, but it’s not.
If anything, she seems more determined than I’ve ever seen her to be.
We’re in the last minute of the game now, I can only wish that the puck would be all mine.
But twisting my ankle earlier on in the game, so all I can do is watch as Daniel gets the puck in his possession.
He sees Kaylah before can tap her stick against the ice, and I hope he doesn’t make the same mistake many of us have.
She’s in good view of the net, and she’s in good view of Daniel, and I breathe a sigh of relief as he pasts the puck to her. She intercepts it so effortlessly, and treats the guys from the opposing team like they’re not even there as she controls the puck and sends it flying into the net.
She has an awkward relationship with most of the team right now, but the game’s done and even they can’t stop themselves from running over and showering her with praise after her performance. I can tell she wasn’t expecting it by the look on her face, but that she’s grateful for it anyway.
When I see Tamarah and Sierra hanging back, I’m quick to say to them, “I think you’re forgetting something, guys.”
They throw death stares my way, but I don’t falter with my own looks until they make their way over to our team.
I follow behind them and watch as they both give a mundane, “Well done,” to Kaylah.
Her eyes are on them as she thanks them and then they’re on me, a sad smile on her face which I take as my own thanks.
When I get home, a nap is my first plan of action, but as I wake up from it a few hours later I realise I fucked up by not ordering food.
I knew I would have to because my ankle isn’t in a condition that makes it easy for me to cook, but ordering food takes me a while because I never know what to get.
Thinking about whether there are any other options, I hobble to the kitchen to check my side of the fridge.
Maybe I left something there and forgot, a solution that would be ideal for me right now.
But when I open it, I find something in a container that I know isn’t mine. It only belongs to one person.
There’s a note on top that says, “I hope your ankle heals soon.” I let out a small breath and open the container to find the rice and mince dish I’ve known Kaylah to make a few times.
“Fuck,” I say to myself, because this is a woman who isn’t happy with me, but she still did this for me.
I know our love for Hockey is part of the reason she did it, having to watch the game unfold before me wasn’t what I wanted at all.
But there’s also something in how I’ve been wanting just a crumb from her all this time, and I finally got it when I don’t know if I’ll ever get anything more.
I like her, I know that. I just need to bring her back to me.