Page 101 of Shutout
A strident squeal echoes through the classroom. More noise explodes as all sorts of voices join in, or laugh, or coo—and I don’t care. Because Liv’s turned into a statue.
Her hand feels like ice in mine. I squeeze it a bit, to see if that snaps her out of the shock. But nothing. “Liv?”
Finally, she gives a sign of life by blinking so fast, her vision must be like the shutter of a camera. “You what?”
“I want to be your boyfriend,” I say again, in English. Loud. “Not your best friend. Or just a friend. I want us to be together.” I take a step closer to her, inhaling the scent of her skin. “I want you.”
Tears spring to her eyes like it’s a magic trick. But instead of jumping into my arms and kissing me senseless, she jerks her hand free and turns to dash out of the classroom.
There’s more heckling than during an away game at the Bulldogs’ arena, and the lecturer’s straining his voice to keep the class quiet. I take off after Olivia. My stomach is so clenched, I fear I’m going to puke on my shirt.
She tries a door and I catch up to her as she’s slipping through a second one. She tries to shut it in my face but I’m so much stronger. Still, I’m not going to wrestle her. “Liv, please. Can I come in?”
After a moment, she stops putting her weight against the door and I slip inside. The room is tiny and crammed with overflowing shelves of boxes, books, loose papers, and even dusty trophies. None of that matters. Liv stands in the middle and when she turns around, her face is rain and thunder.
“How dare you?” The question slips out of her throat like a growl and I freeze.
CHAPTER 34
OLIVIA
Brooklyn is pale. He swallows hard as he rests his weight against the door, shutting us inside the small storage room. I’m so pissed that he physically shrinks.
“How dare you ask me to be your girlfriendnow.” I throw my hands in the air so hard that when they fall, they slap my thighs. “Why now? After all these years?”
“I—” He opens and closes his mouth. “Because I’m a fool and I only realized I’m in love with you this year?”
I blink hard against the blurring of my vision, my feelings spilling out of my eyes in steady streams. His words knock the wind out of me, and I sound a lot fainter as I ask, “You what?”
The sleeves of his white shirt tighten almost to the point of tearing apart as he combs both hands through his blond hair, pulling hard as if he was the angry one now. “I love you, Olivia.” Brooklyn drops his hands and just stays there, six feet away from me. “I’ve always loved you, I just didn’t know it. But when you were gone, I missed you so damn hard I had to carve you on my skin.”
He yanks the sleeve of his shirt so hard, the button goes flying. But he doesn’t stop until the tattoo lines are showing. “This? This was because of you. Because my heart has been so full of you, there was nothing left when you were gone. I tried to fill it with hockey or with other people and it wasn’t enough. It was always empty. Until you came back.”
With my hands pressed against my mouth, I say, “But now you’re the one leaving.”
The determination in his face cracks. “How… How do you know?”
Oh. So heisleaving. It’s certain now.
“I—I overheard your coach and the scout talking two weeks ago.”
“Two…” Brooke shakes his head hard. “Wait, is this why you’ve been acting so weird?”
“Yes.” I bite my lip and shut my eyes. This will be a lot easier if I can’t see him. “Brooke, do you want to know why I was so angry at you at that party, that I stopped talking with you for over a year?”
The only sounds from him are attempts at saying something and failing. The quiet extends uncomfortably, wrapping me in a cold vise I can only break free out of if I’m finally brave.
“That night…” I trail off, trying to use the sleeves of my blouse to blot out my tears. I keep sniffling as I talk. “That night, I had gathered my nerve to go confess my feelings for you.”
He sucks in air so sharp, it makes me look at him. Never have I seen pain like this on his face. Not the time he skinned his knees after chasing me. Not after getting his cheek cut by a hockey stick. Not even when his mother left him.
“Liv.” He shakes his head slowly, gulping so hard I can hear it. “You—You liked me back then?”
“Not just back then.” My blouse can’t absorb any more moisture and I give up. I just let the tears fall where they may. With a sad little voice, I say, “Since high school, or maybebefore. I couldn’t tell you exactly since when. Maybe since always. You’ve always been my one.”
Brooke presses the heels of his hands against his eyes, like maybe he’s trying not to cry. His jaw is so tight that a muscle jumps on his cheek. “I want to roundhouse kick myself right now. Or maybe I’ll just stand very still and you can kick me instead.”
“I’m not going to kick you.” I sigh.
