Page 82 of Wildcat
“You’re right. From everything you’ve told me about Leo, it sounds like he’s a good one.”
“But?” My stomach clenches in warning. Is the other shoe about to drop?
“I don’t want to see you get hurt again.”
“Where is this coming from? You were the one pushing me toward him.”
“As a hookup, yeah.” She pulls out her phone, scrolls until she finds what she’s looking for, and then holds it out to me. It’s Leo the night of the photography exhibit, looking fine and smiling out front of the building. “Where were you in this photo or the dozen others from that night?”
“Inside,” I say, slowly connecting the dots. “It isn’t the same thing as Rhyse. We went in through the back because he wasn’t sure if I wanted to be seen with him since we haven’t told my dad. He went out front to get a few photos to make his agent happy. That’s all.”
Jade stays silent. I hand her phone back and repeat, “It isn’t the same thing.”
“Okay. You know the situation better than I do.” She squeezes my knee. “You deserve someone who wants to show you off. That’s all I’m saying.”
I head back home a little while later, unable to shake Jade’s concerns. It isn’t the same, one side of my brain says, but the other can’t stop worrying that I’m making excuses because I’ve fallen hard for Leo. I want this time to be different.
I open Instagram, and the first post on my feed is of Rhyse. The universe is obviously fucking with me. I give it the usual scan, but it doesn’t hurt the same way it did in the past. He’s no longer the guy I want to be with.
When we first started dating, I specifically avoided searching Leo’s social media, so I wouldn’t have to know the number or quality of his past relationships. We weren’t there yet. Until the past couple of days, we’d only briefly talked about those things, and I didn’t want to have it in the back of my head while I was spending time getting to know him. But now, with Rhyse popping up and reminding me why I didn’t want to date Leo in the first place, I decide to Google him.
How bad can it be?
The first thing that pops up is a news article dated today that makes a cold sweat break out over my entire body.Wildcats Leo Lohan in a New Relationship?
Under the headline, there’s a photo of the two of us at the photography exhibit. To anyone that knows me, it’s clearly me, but whoever wrote this article has no clue. In the small write-up, it states only that Leo was spotted with an unknown woman looking cozy, and then the article proceeds to detail out his dating history. Here it is, everything I wanted to know laid out in chronological order: Leo’s entire dating history.
It starts with the awful college scandal he told me about. A younger Leo, shirtless, with a girl on either side of him, stares at the camera with a hazy expression. That’s the tamest of the pictures from that night.
I skip past to see who else he’s dated since. He said none of them were serious, but that hasn’t stopped him from dating. And the girls he’s been paired with in the past two years are as stunning as I feared. Models, college girls, blondes, brunettes, redheads, all as beautiful as the next. The gorgeous blonde sports reporter his agent has been trying to get him to go out with is the latest woman he’s been cited as dating.
I groan, but now that I’ve ripped off the Band-Aid, I can’t stop. I type in his name and scroll through pictures of him at various events with dates. I skip over any sports-related news and go right for the trashy tabloids. I suddenly need to know it all. My stomach twists. Here he is with all of these women he said meant nothing, and I’m an unknown in a blurry photo that will probably be forgotten tomorrow.
I should be glad, but the irrational part of me that wants to be his in a way that these girls weren’t, wants the whole world to know—consequences be damned.
I get ready for the game. Leo has a standard pre-game routine, and I know if I text him and warn him, there’s a good chance it’ll screw with his game, so I don’t.
Still, I know that as soon as the game is over, I need to tell him about the article, and then we need to have an awkward conversation with my dad. I can’t wait for Sunday. If that’s the only reason he doesn’t want to be pictured with me, then I’ll know.
And Ineedto know.
28
JUST FRIENDS
LEO
When the final buzzer sounds,denoting the end of the game, I skate off the ice and follow my team down the tunnel. Losing always sucks, but never more than when you know you’re the better team.
Tampa Bay should have been an easy win. Three of their top players are out with injuries, and they’ve struggled to patch together a line that can get anything going. Until tonight.
Coach is grim-faced and quiet in the locker room after yelling for fifteen-minutes straight. He attempts a smile and tells us to keep our heads up. I cool down and then get summoned with Jack and Ash to the media room.
I pull on a Wildcats T-shirt and shorts and run through the things Blythe told me to say during interviews if I was stuck. I shouldn’t need to say a lot. The media loves Jack, and he’ll be happy to answer whatever they throw at him, but if I’m going to be a leader on this team, or any team, I need to be prepared.
The three of us take our seats behind the microphones placed along a row of tables, facing reporters and cameras. Coach comes in last and takes a seat next to me. He starts us off, fielding a few questions on what went wrong and how we move forward.
I’m starting to tune it all out when someone calls my name. I sit forward, so my mouth is near the microphone.
