Page 3 of Pucking Only

Once I’m back in the house, I run up the stairs and back to Grace’s room. She’s still not back from helping her mom, which is a relief. I don’t want her to see me like this either. I slip into Grace’s bathroom and shut the door behind me, locking it. Only then do I let my tears fall.

A sob breaks from my throat as I press my back to the door and slide down until I’m sitting on the floor. I pull my knees up and drop my head on them as I cry. I have to push my glasses out of the way so I can wipe my eyes.

I’ve never felt anything like this before. There’s a pain in my chest and my stomach is churning with anxiety. Carson doesn’t like me… he just wants to be friends.

I’m not girly enough. For some reason, that’s the thing that devastates me the most. It’s never bothered me before when people have told me I’m too much of a tomboy. That I shouldn’t be so blunt. That I should wear more dresses and not just wear my hair in a ponytail. I always shrugged them off and moved on, ignoring their words as I just continued to be me.

Knowing Carson thinks that way too is devastating. I can’t just ignore what he said and shrug off his words. They keep repeating over and over in my head.

I hate this. I hate this so much. Is this what heartbreak feels like? If it is, I never want to experience anything like thisever again. As my tears start to slow, I clench my jaw and curl my hands into fists.

I’m not going to ever let myself feel this way again. It was a mistake for me to have feelings for Carson. What was I thinking? I’m not the type of girl to let a boy have this much influence over her or to cry because he hurt my feelings. I’m tougher than that. Part of me hates Carson for making me feel even a little bit self-conscious about the type of girl I am.

He doesn’t like me because I’m not girly enough? Screw him. I don’t like him anymore. I’m over him and I’m never going to let another guy make me feel this bad ever again.

Suddenly, I hear someone come into Grace’s room. A moment later, there’s a knock on the door. “Skyler? Are you in there?”

I let out a short breath of relief. It’s just Grace.

“Yeah!” I reply, wiping my eyes as I scramble to my feet. “Be right out!”

Moving to the sink, I look at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. My eyes are a little red and I’m afraid she’ll be able to tell I’ve been crying, so I wait a few moments, willing my eyes to clear up.

Once my eyes are dry and I can pass off any lingering redness as allergies or something like that I plaster on a smile and open the bathroom door to rejoin Grace. She’s back on her bed, reading her magazine. She looks up at me with a small frown.

“Are you okay?” she asks.

“Yeah,” I nod, keeping my smile in place. “I’m good, sorry. I think I’ve got a little stomach ache, though. I should probably go home, just to be safe.”

She furrows her brow and sits up, studying me closely . “Are you sure that’s it? There’s nothing else going on?”

I swallow as I continue to fight my rising nerves. Can shetell? That’s just what I need…to be caught by my best friend after crying over her stupid brother. That’s more embarrassment than I think I can take.

“Nope,” I assure her. “Nothing else. I think I just had too much ice cream earlier. You know that gets me sometimes. I’ll just go home and take it easy the rest of the day.”

“I mean…if you’re sure…”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be back tomorrow,” I tell her, hurrying toward her bedroom door before she can try to stop me. I hate keeping the truth from her. Grace and I tell each other everything, but I can’t tell her this. I just can’t. That's just one more reason to throw my feelings for Carson to the side. He’s forced me to keep a secret from Grace.

I hate this…I might even hate Carson.

What I know for sure is that I’m never going to let anyone make me feel this way ever again.

CHAPTER ONE: A MAN’S WORLD

SKYLER

TEN YEARS LATER

My fingers hoverabove the keyboard as I glance at the game build running on an adjacent monitor. A small character jumps from platform to platform, the movements fluid yet lacking the polish I envision. With a furrowed brow, I open the physics engine, tweaking variables and adjusting the gravity scale. My mind buzzes with calculations, visualizing the impact of each change.

“Skyler? Skyler! Hello? I’m talking to you!”

When the beady eyes and pursed lips of my least favorite coworker suddenly appear in my line of sight, I jump and let out a gasp.

Narrowing my gaze into a glare, I yank off my headphones and snap, “Samuel! What are you doing? Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

Samuel, AKA Captain Douchepants, steps back and looks down at me over the bridge of his nose. He always does that, and I know it’s meant to make me feel as small as possible. He’s not even that tall, but he’s tall enough to be annoying.It doesn’t help that I’m a pipsqueak and only come up to about his nose, so I’m always forced to look up at him. Samuel reminds me of a weasel — not just his personality, but strangely enough, his looks too. His build is long and lanky, and his facial features are sharp and pointed. Even his hair, a dull brown that is flat and cut in a sharp bowl cut, gives me rodent vibes. He’s only 28, but he has the temperament of a middle-aged man who doesn’t want kids running across his lawn. For some reason, ever since I started, he seems to have it out for me. Personally, I think it’s because he knows I have more skills than he does when it comes to code. He just can’t stand the idea of a girl being better at his job than he is.

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