Page 21 of Beautiful Collide

I park my Mustang in my usual spot and fling open the door, hopping on my hood. The morning light glints off the glossy paint as I pull out my phone and add all the guys who texted me to a group chat, one by one.

And then I name it: All Hail Hudson.

Hudson:Since my time is valuable, this was easier.

Aiden:What is this?

Hudson:It’s a group chat. Duh.

Mason:One called HUDSON IS AN ASS.

Mason changed the name of the chat to “Hudson is an ass.”

Hudson changed the name of the chat to “Saints of Redville.”

Hudson:I thought it was cute. Guess not.

Dane:Why do we have a group chat?

Hudson:It’s easier.

Aiden:For whom?

Dane:Not for me, that’s for sure.

Mason:I like it.

Hudson:I knew you were my favorite.

Dane:Why am I here?

Hudson:Cause we’re friends.

Dane:Are we?

Hudson:Ouch.

Aiden:It’s a legit statement.

Mason:Damn, guys.

Hudson:I’m on my way. There was a complication.

Dane:Again, why are you telling us this?

Hudson:Ouch again. I’m starting to get a complex and think you don’t like me.

Dane:. . .

I pocket my phone and jog into the locker room, my steps echoing in the empty arena. It’s darker than I’m used to. The place feels weird without the usual chaos. Just silence. A small light from the office is the only thing illuminating the space.

If I didn’t know better, I’d think no one is here.

I head straight to my locker, digging for my keys. I need to grab something. While I might not have as many pregame rituals as Aiden, I do always carry a picture of my family with me to every game I go to.

Opening my locker, I grab it from the shelf just as a voice cuts through the quiet.

“Hello?”

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