Page 41 of Becoming Selfish

“Yes, you do.” I try to make eye contact with her again, but she’s avoiding me. I need to look into those green eyes of hers so she can assure me that she didn’t mean what she just said; that she does actually care. Even if she doesn’t say the words, her eyes will tell me for her.

“No, Eli. I don’t care,” she states. “Because you showed your true colors tonight. You’re exactly who everyone warned me you would be.” She looks at me again, but her eyes don’t show me any of the validation I was hoping for.

“What does that mean?” I back away, creating space between us.

She sighs. “It just means that I know you’re used to getting whoever and whatever you want, but I’m not playing your game anymore.” She stares at me, emotionless. I don’t think she’s even upset anymore.

“No, Logan, it’s not like that—” I begin to explain myself and my actions, but she interrupts me.

“It’s exactly like that. Go home, Eli. I’m done.” And with that, she turns away, closing the door in my face, leaving me in shock from her words.

I didn’t think the conversation would go this way. I was sure she would forgive me; they always do. But, once again, Logan has proven to me she’s not like any girl I’ve met before. I have to fix this, but I don’t know how.

I place my hands on either side of her doorframe as I ponder my next course of action. As soon as I see her light turn off, I say a quiet, “Fuck,” as I rest my forehead on her door, realizing that she is, in fact, done with me. Inhaling a deep breath, I start my lonely walk home.

Does she really see me the way everyone else does? I’ve only known her for a short time, but she’s the first person, outside of my family, that I’ve begun to open up towards. But, maybe she’s right. Maybe I am the man everyone considers me to be. I was a total asshole to her tonight, and for what? Because she hurt my feelings? What the fuck is wrong with me?

As I approach my house, the argument I had with Marc replays in my mind. I need to apologize to him, but I don’t think I have it in me to do it tonight. Besides, I doubt it would mean much coming from me tonight. The house is still packed with people as I make my way upstairs, but I ignore anyone who tries to stop me as I go straight to my room and lock the door behind me. There’s no one here I want to talk to tonight. The one person I actually want to talk to will probably never speak to me again.

I lie in my bed knowing I won’t fall asleep, but for once, it has nothing to do with anxiety over hockey or my career, and everything to do with a green-eyed girl who has taken up occupancy in my head, rent-free.

Chapter 35

Eli

My alarm went off at seven o’clock this morning, but I’ve been up, tossing and turning, most of the night. The alcohol has worn off, and the hangover has begun to set in as the pressure pounds against my head. The way my night ended has not sat well with me, and I’ve been going over what went wrong, ever since.

My phone dings on my nightstand, and I grab it to see a couple of texts waiting for me—two from Alyssa, and one from Tony, the maintenance guy. Unfortunately, nothing from my brother, which I assume is because Marc is still pissed off at me from our argument last night.

Without looking at the texts from Alyssa, I delete them, but read the one from Tony.

T: Maddison, we are working on the glass paneling at the rink today, so if you’re coming to skate, can you wait until 9? Thanks.

I usually try to get to the rink by eight o’clock on the weekends, hoping to get in some time on the ice by myself, so I guess now I have an extra hour to kill.

As I lie in bed, I contemplate using my hour to get some sleep and quickly realize it’s a futile plan. My mind has been going all night. I hop out of bed and start putting my hockey equipment into my gym bag, being sure to grab my skates, pads, and helmet. I glance at the clock; I’ve only wasted five minutes.

I know what I need to do with my extra time, but I have to swallow my pride in order to do it. I need to apologize to Marc for how I acted last night, and while I’m there, maybe I can convince Logan to talk to me.

I dress quickly, throwing on a pair of basketball shorts, a long-sleeved T-shirt, and running shoes. Before I leave my room, I spot a baseball cap on my desk, and I throw it on, hoping it will hide the lack of sleep that’s surely evident on my face.

The drive to the grad dorms is only a few minutes from my house, so I should have plenty of time to apologize before I need to get to the rink. The stereo blares as soon as I start the engine, but I shut it off. I need to use these few minutes to think about what I’m going to say to both Marc and Logan.

The common area of the grad dorms is packed with students. There are guys playing pool and girls sitting around the tables, chatting. I’ve been to these dorms a few times this week already, but have yet to see anyone out of their room. I guess grad students hibernate until the weekend comes around.

I get in the elevator, head to the C floor, and begin a different type of walk of shame down the hallway. Without thought, I pass Marc’s dorm and head straight to Logan’s. Marc will forgive me eventually; we are family, but Logan I’m not so sure about, and our conversation is the one that’s weighing heavier on me.

I knock on the door and wait for her to answer, but she doesn’t. I contemplate if I should start pounding like I did last night, but my sober mind is much more aware of how rude that was. I’m probably here too early for a Saturday morning. She did get home late last night. I knock one more time just to be sure, careful not to hit the door too loudly and wake her up, knowing that would put me in even more hot water.

Still no answer.

A voice from down the hall calls out, “She’s not home right now.”

I turn around to find my brother standing in his doorway, halfway between the hallway and his room, looking in my direction.

“Hey,” I say sheepishly, not knowing where we stand at the moment.

“Hey,” he responds flatly.

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