Page 64 of Brutal Game

Like a whore?

Exactly.

Do. Not. Touch. Her.

I swear, Jack, I have no idea why she’s wearing my jersey. Maybe you should ask her.

Jack raised his stick midway, and for a moment I thought he might try to hit Dave in the junk with it. Even with layers of clothes between Dave and Jack’s stick, it could still be painful.

I waved.

“Superscary,” Tovah said.

Energy fizzled beneath my skin. I hadn’t felt powerful in so long. I also had never felt this reckless, but hey, high risk, high reward, right?

Joshua Jensen yelled something at Jack and Dave that I couldn’t hear. Jack ignored him, advancing toward Dave. Isaac skated over, touching Jack on the shoulder, who shoved him off. And then, shocking even me,Jack broke the cardinal rule of “protect your goalie” and smacked Dave on top of his mask,hard.

Shouts broke out, Jack’s teammates skating toward them to break things up before it turned into an actual fight.

“Jack!” Joshua Jensen barked. “What the hell are you thinking?!”

Well, thatI could hear.

“Holy shit,” Tovah whispered.

“Holy shit,” I agreed.

As Jack skated toward the coach, he stopped, turning to look at me one more time.

I swallowed, my mouth and throat suddenly dry. The cold disappeared, the rink and fans disappeared, until it might as well have just been him, and me, alone in space, nogravity, no nothing, the only thing keeping me from floating away the heat of his gaze on mine.

He broke my trance.

Run and hide, he mouthed through his helmet.

And even though a part of me wanted to, I lifted my head and stared at him, staying where I fucking was. I refused to back down, to cower in front of him like a punished puppy. To let him win.

He shook his head, saying something to Joshua before disappearing down the tunnel.

I exhaled, feeling dizzy.

“Well, that looked intense,” a chirpy voice said.

I glanced over to see Lucy and Leslie standing there, both in purple and gold Tabb jerseys, staring at me in amusement and shock, respectively.

“Omg, hey!” I said, momentarily forgetting Jack Feldman—or at least trying to.

We all hugged. Tovah and I scooted over, making room for Lucy and Leslie.

“I can’t believe he hit hisgoalie.You don’t hit your goalie. Your goalie is sacred,” Lucy said, awed. “What the hell happened?”

“Yeah,” Tovah asked. “What do you think happened, Aviva?”

“Wait,” Leslie said. “Aren’t you with Jack? Why are you wearing Dave Lawson’s jersey.”

“I’mnotwith Jack.”

“That’s not what I heard.”

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