Page 107 of The Import Slot
Nobody replies though. Everyone is busy watching, myself included.
I’ve turned my chair to face the window. Vicky’s standing at the home bench; her mouth is opening and closing at speed, and she bangs on the nearest bit of glass to get the attention of Ryan, who’s running skating drills with Scott.
The guys come to an abrupt halt, a spray of snow soaring into the air as they stop. They have confusion etched on both their faces, and Ryan powers back to the bench, gesturing with his arms and waving his stick in the air.
Vicky keeps talking at him, her finger pointing at his chest, her face red with fury. It goes on like this for a few minutes before she storms off. Ryan hops onto the rubber matting of the benches after her. He’s running and catches up with her quickly. She spins on her heel, saying something else before storming off.
Ryan throws his stick onto the rack and looks up at the window, directly at me.
As soon as his eyes meet mine, I see a flash of desperation and in a split second, he’s running back to the dressing room.
Everyone hustles back to their desks, just in time to hear Vicky’s heels click on the floor as she makes her way back to the offices.
As soon as she rounds the corner, she lets out a puff of air.
“You aren’t being taken for a fool, Jenna.” She gives me a stern look. “Both Preston boys are the goddamn same.” She sits back at her desk, eyeing the Sharpie before picking it up.
“For the love of Christ, if you borrow a pen, put it back!” she shouts at no one in particular.
“I don’t think he did anything,” I say to Vicky.
“He says he didn’t, but who knows, given the opportunity?”
I let it pass, anticipating that Ryan would soon stride into the office at any moment.
I pull out my notebook and run through a few things, checking my source code as I go, trying to look busy.
“Oh, hi, Ryan.” I hear Bella say, her tone slightly higher than usual, but I already knew he’d come in. My head snaps up. He gives her a curt nod before striding over to where Vicky and I are sitting.
“What the hell was that?” he yells at Vicky. He’s still in his practice uniform, his skates fitted with guards and his helmet dangling from his gloved hand.
“I’m done talking to you,” Vicky says.
“You can’t just do that, Vicky. Making a goddamn show for no reason!”
“Oh, I have a reason!” Vicky fumes back. She stands up and leans over her desk. “Who do you think you are? Sleeping around and then broadcasting it online like you’re trying out for man-whore of the year.”
“What?” Ryan’s confusion is apparent.
“I can’t cope with this, Liam!” Vicky yells.
My jaw drops.
Vicky gasps, covering her mouth with her hands before rounding her desk and jogging toward the corridor.
“Jen, what’s going on?” Ryan directs at me.
“Bella noticed someone on the forum boasting about a good time with you during that night out,” I explain. “The poster wants to ‘conquer the other twin’,” I add.
Ryan tuts in disgust. “Who is Bella?” he asks.
“I’m Bella,” Bella says, her cheeks flushing.
“I don’t believe it, don’t worry,” I tell him.
“Good, because nothing is going on, Jen. I swear.”
“You don’t need to swear. I believe you.” I stand up and walk to the corridor, Ryan following me. The last thing I want is another opportunity for people to eavesdrop.
