Page 77 of Heart of Thorns

Marley laughs. “One year ago, I never would have guessed that I’d see you at a football game wearingthat.”

“Stop it,” I hiss.Do I seem totally out of place?

“Don’t get me wrong.” Marley scoots into the second row, and Lydia and I follow after her. “You look freaking amazing.”

“I look like I always do.”

It’s true. Sure, the sweater is soft and warm, but it’s not that much different from the rest of my sweaters.

“Wow, someone got a makeover,” someone says from behind.

We all three turn, and I catch the eye of some girl I couldn’t point out in a lineup if I had to. She looks like the rest of her girl gang.

Girl gang because they’re all four scowling at me with their bright-red lips and caterpillar-like eyelashes.

A harsh laugh falls from my mouth, and suddenly, everyone is staring at me.

“Sorry.” I smash my lips together.

Marley and Lydia both snicker quietly.

“Don’t you… like… play hockey or something?” one of the lookalikes asks, staring at all three of us.

I swear my knee aches at that exact moment.

“They do.” The blue-eyed one points at Lydia and Marley, purposefully signaling me out. “But she doesn’t…anymore.”

A flicker of red and orange flames loom on the outer part of my memories. I squeeze my fists tight to stay calm.

“Oh, why not?” one asks.

The blue-eyed girl shoots me a cruel smile, and that’s when I notice she’s wearing Thorne’s number.Oh, this ought to be good.

She whispers loud enough for everyone to hear, which turns out not to be a whisper at all, “She’s the girl who burned in that fire last semester. Remember?”

There’s a collective gasp, and I’m red hot with embarrassment.

Anger comes next, and if it wasn’t for Thorne’s parents being in attendance, I probably would have acted irrationally and pulled her by her hair to teach her how to keep her mouth shut.

“Tell us you’re jealous without telling us.” Marley doesn’t bother to hide her laugh.

A huff that comes out more like a shriek catches everyone’s attention. “Jealous? Ofher?”

I smile sweetly at the group of girls that I’m certain Mr. and Mrs. Thorne would much prefer their son to take to dinner instead of me. “Well, you are wearing my boyfriend’s number.” Iplop my lower lip out and show her some fake pity. “It’s kind of cute that you’re such a fan, even if he doesn’t know your name.”

“He does, too!” She stomps her foot like a brat, and I reach forward to pat her arm.

Only I don’t get a chance to because she flinches away from me. She flicks her blown-out hair over her shoulder and leaves her seat. Her friends skitter after her like little ducklings.

When I see that they’re gone, I finally exhale. I glance back to the field and try to calm my racing heart.

Practice.

That was practice.

The real test is coming, after the game when I’m face-to-face with Thorne’s parents.

Lydia leans in and shouts over the crowd’s growing volume, “That was impressive. I’ve never seen you hold such restraint. On or off the ice.”

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