Page 58 of The Puck Secret

“Because I didn’t want to be reached,” I lie, which technically is not that much of a lie because I probably wouldn’t have answered his call today of all days anyway, but mostly it was so I didn’t reread the messages from Nova again. All night long was enough.

Brad studies me closely, not that he knows me well enough to know if something is truly wrong, but he is still perceptive, and my red swollen eyes are a dead giveaway. “Is there something going on that I should know about?” he questions me, standing up tall off the hood of his car and towering over me.

He is smaller than Nova, and all his height does is remind me that he isn’t him, the one that I will forever be forced to remember as the one that got away. Or I guess I should call him the one I forced away. This is all my fault after all. Thoughts of him threaten to crush me once more, those tears from last night stinging at the back of my eyes yet again, as I force myself to swallow thickly. “No, there is nothing going on, not anymore.”

I’m done here.

I almost crumble under the weight of his stare until he finally nods. “Good, let’s keep it that way.” He steps a little closer again, and I hear my brother get out of the car followed quickly by my best friend, as Brad lowers his voice bringing his mouth close to my ear. “It’s time to put away the hockey shirts and come and watch some real men play, darling.” When he straightens up he smiles wider. “We have a meeting with a party planner next weekend to make all the final arrangements, I will pick you up at 6 on Friday, be ready.”

He is already climbing back into his car by the time my brother reaches us, and I swear the look in his eye is like one I’ve never seen before as he stares down Thorne until he backs out of the driveway and leaves. When he looks back to me, his stare still doesn’t soften. “Are you okay?”

I almost laugh, of course I’m not okay, but still I smile as I look at him. “Of course I am, I’m always okay.” The lie tastes more sour than usual as I force it past my lips, and Josh looks like he doesn’t buys it for a second, but I don’t stick around to find out.

Moving towards the house, I unlock the door and head straight upstairs, not saying a word to either of them before I lock myself in my room and let the tears fall again. When I turn my phone on, I don’t bother stopping on any missed calls from Brad, instead my fingers start tapping until I reach Nova’s number under the name I gave him, and hover there as I choke back a sob. I want to call him, I want to call him and tell him I’m sorry, that I made a mistake, that I never should have done any of it, but what use would that be?

Like he said…I’m done here.

So, I put down my phone and cry myself to sleep instead.

The whiskey tastes bitter on my tongue as I swallow it down, praying that this will be the night that it finally makes me forget about her. That it will erase the taste of her on my tongue, and the imprint of her on my heart. I highly doubt it will work, considering I have been half-drunk for the entirety of the last week in the same attempt, but hey, try and try again.

I’m not sure how I got here. How I went from not caring about any girl I ever hooked up with, to being completely and utterly infatuated by the Mayor’s daughter. I never wanted this, to be consumed by someone else, to give them power over me. To love me, or worse, hurt me. I saw what happened when my dad left my mom, and when the Mayor left her too. She fell apart, her life obliterated just because they didn’t choose her, and I vowed I would never let it happen to me. Yet here I am anyway, heartbroken, drunk, and alone.

I wish I could say I didn’t care, that when I walked away from Maddie last week that it didn’t affect me, that I haven’t thought about her since, but that would be a lie. She hurt me, yes, and I hurt her too, but that’s not the problem. The problem is that Icarethat I hurt her. I shouldn’t care, I don’t want to care, but ever since the night she dropped to her knees for me, something inside of me changed when it comes to Madeline Peters. It’s like I now have this deep rooted need for her. Like she has poisoned me with affection, and now the very essence of her has wrapped itself around my soul.

Where once there were vicious barbs and vile taunts, now lies wicked wonder and bruised lips. Except now it’s gone. The wicked wonder turned into lovely lies, and bruised lips turned into a scarred soul. That affection is now bitter and cold, and the image of her on her knees is tainted with her arguing with the man who will get to keep her. A man I thought I was saving her from that night I walked her home, when what I should have done is walked away and saved myself, because then none of this would be happening.

When the door flies open and heavy footsteps descend against the hardwood floors, I startle a little, pulled from my longing and desperate thoughts to find the eyes of my roommates. Reign and Harper share a worried look as my best friend steps forward and looks at me with an annoyed glare.

“You missed practice,” he draws out slowly, before lowering his voice and adding, “again.” My best friend comes to a stop right in front of me, his gaze softening slightly as our eyes collide. “Coach is pissed.” I shrug, pretending his words don’t affect me. I hate knowing I am disappointing Coach and letting down my team, but right now I need to just not exist.

“From the looks of things, so is he,” Reign cuts in, moving further into the living room and assessing the mess around the spot I haven’t moved from in days. When he reaches me, he smiles tightly, he knows all too well what I lost, he had a taste of it himself. Ignoring the heated anger now burning in my stare at just the thought, he asks, “Do you want a cup of tea?”

Harper laughs, the half-British side of Reign alway causing us amusement as Archer curses, “Of course he doesn’t want a cup of fucking tea, Alexander, he is heartbroken.”

Reign nods, clearing off some of the trash from the coffee table and plonking his huge frame down on it. “I know, but drinking alone is just sad.”

Archer remains standing, too disgusted to touch anything as Harper unhelpfully adds, “Plus the smell in here is getting pretty ripe.”

I scoff, “Feel free to all fuck off at anytime.” I move to tip back more of the whiskey before I realize the bottle in my hand is now empty. I toss it to the floor and flex my fingers in search of another.

“Look, Nova,” Archer exhales. “I know you really like her, but this needs to stop now before-” I cut him off.

“I more than like her, Arch,” I admit out loud for the first time, and the silence that follows threatens to swallow me whole. I know it’s more, I knew it that night when the floor was ripped out from under me by her lies. When I watched her phone ring and her delicate, traitorous hands answered it. When I sunk inside her and felt nothing but fear and regret. If I am truly honest with myself I knew it before then, before I even really had her, and I know it even more now that I’ve lost her.

“Well, shit,” my best friend eventually sighs in defeat.

“Yeah,” I add, in a forced whisper, ignoring the heavy glares from all three of them as my eyes begin to search for some more booze, snatching an unopened bottle from the table beside Reign.

Before I can open it, Archer cuts in again. “Reign’s right, drinking alone is sad.” He grabs the bottle from my hand and I think he is about to join me in my pity party, but all he does is survey the rest of the room slowly. “Harper, you take out all the trash, Reign, you vacuum and rinse out whatever that stain is, and I will straighten him out.” He nods his head towards me, before dipping down and dragging me up from the sofa in one swoop. “Come on, time to shower and get changed so we can all go out drinking together.”

For the first time in a week I smile. I knew I picked the right best friend.

Not even an hour later and I am showered, freshly dressed, and settled in a booth at one of the popular sports bars just off campus. I’m nursing my third Old Fashioned and pointedly ignoring every girl that looks in my direction. I’m done with women.

Archer is by my side, still on his first beer, and Reign is on the dance floor entertaining some bunnies. Harper ditched us for his longtime girlfriend yet again, and I pretend that it doesn’t leave a swirl of jealousy in the pit of my stomach.

Poor, lucky, unfortunate bastard.

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