Page 114 of That's Too Pucking Bad

“Hey,” I call out, trying to sound casual.

He looks up, surprised. “Shit, didn’t expect you to be here.”

“Yeah, well,” I smirk, “I thought I’d make myself a little more available. Since you’ve been so absent lately.”

He gives me a half-smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “I’ve just been running up the wall with hockey. You know how it is.”

“Is that it?” I ask, narrowing my eyes.

He shrugs, his smile still there but colder than usual. “Yeah. That’s it.”

Something feels off. I’m not dumb. He’s pushing me away.

And I can’t let it slide.

I ask, “You’re not mad at me, are you?”

He steps closer, pulling me into him with one hand, his other brushing a loose strand of hair from my face. “No, baby. I’m not mad at you.”

I hate how distant his touch feels, like he’s doing it because he has to, not because he wants to.

Before I can say anything else, his lips kiss mine. It’s rough at first, like he’s trying to prove something. I kiss him back, trying to pull him closer, but it doesn’t feel right. He’s not giving me anything back.

When he finally pulls away, he looks at me like he’s almost guilty, but it doesn’t change anything.

“I miss you,” I say, my voice softer than I want it to be. “I miss all of you... I want you… I want you to fuck me.”

His eyes flicker, and there’s a quick flash of something in them— desire, I think— but it’s gone just as fast.

“Later, baby,” he mutters, his voice rough, but not like before. “I have to get going.”

I open my mouth to protest, but he’s already opening the door to his car and sliding in.

“Call me later,” he says, his voice almost too soft.

I don’t even get a chance to respond before he starts the engine, throwing me a quick wave as he drives off.

Okay, now this is not normal.

I stand here with my arms crossed, watching him disappear out of the parking lot.

The next day, I don’t bother texting him. No point. I’ve already given him space, but it feels like I’m being ignored. He hasn’t even checked in, not once. He’s not even bothering to pretend anymore.

I can’t explain the hollow feeling inside me. It’s like there’s something missing, and I can’t put my finger on it. Maybe he’s just focused on the game, maybe he’s got his head in the wrong place. But whatever it is, it’s pissing me off.

I try to focus on class, but my mind keeps wandering. What’s going on? Why is he pushing me away?

By the time the day ends, I’m crawling out of my skin. I need to figure this out. I can’t sit here and wonder what the hell’s going on. I decide I need to talk to someone— Maya. She’s the only one who might get it.

I head to our dorm after class. She’s sitting on her bed, scrolling through her phone. She looks up when I walk in.

“Hey, funny seeing you here. It’s like you’re never here!” she jokes. “What do I owe the pleasure?” she asks.

I collapse onto the couch next to her, running a hand through my hair. “I don’t know, Maya. I’m really not okay.”

She raises an eyebrow. “What’s going on?”

“It’s Zane. He’s being a dick, fucking ignoring me,” I say, frustration creeping into my voice. “Like, more than usual.He’s barely responding to my texts, and he keeps brushing me off. He’s pretending that he’s fine. I don’t know, but I’m going crazy.”

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