Shea
I can't remember when this video was taken.
Fuck.
I know I said some nasty shit in the past. Even played the part. Now it's all going to backfire on me. Not that I should be complaining. I deserve everything that's coming for me. The wrath of Karma.
Me, Brenna, and the rest of our friends stand in the middle of the hallway, the door open and letting the spring air seep inside. Brenna's still gripping my shirt, and I can smell her perfume. Or maybe it's her mango chapstick.
We watch as the video continues to play on. For the first portion, Connor victimizes himself. He plays the role well. A sad, insecure boy who's just lost his position on the team that's portraying his frustrations through anger. Because that's the only way men are allowed to show emotions, right?
I'm tempted to bang my head against a wall.
It's a fucking bet, Connor!
I cringe when I hear my voice. First, it doesn't sound like me. The pitch is all wrong, almost whiny, and it sounds a little hollow. Second, it's robotic. As if...
The truth dawns on me. The bastard edited the video.
In my arms, Brenna flinches. I tighten my arms around her, hoping the comfort makes her realize the context is wrong. Whatever I've said in this video is either fabricated or being taken out of its original context.
A few more seconds pass before the finale comes. Video me says: I hate Brenna Harrison more than your pathetic mind can comprehend. Sleeping with her was the plan.
The screen goes blank, and then Connor is crossing his arms and grinning at us with his smug grin. It takes every ounce of self-control to not lunge and beat him to a pulp. Why can't he just leave us alone? We played the game and fooled him. That's not our fault. It's his fault for thinking he could fuck with Brenna Harrison.
When Brenna turns to me, I shoot her a pleading look. Then squeeze her hand. "That video is out of context, Bren. Someone edited it. Connor and I had this conversation after Boxing Day. Hell, I kicked his ass after telling him the bet was over. "
Several seconds pass before Brenna squeezes my hand and smiles. I breathe a sigh of relief, feeling some of the tension ease from my shoulders. I never should've doubted her.
Still holding my hand, Brenna turns around. I can't see her face, so I'm not sure what her plan of action is. Usually I can gauge where things are going by reading her expressions.
I can, however, see Connor. He still looks as smug as ever. He raises his eyebrows, staring at Brenna. "How does it feel, Harrison, to be played?"
Brenna shrugs. "Not sure, Connor. How does it feel?"
Connor's expression doesn't falter.
She gestures to where the video was just playing. "Do you really expect me to believe this? It's clear someone edited the video. The tone of Shea's voice isn't normal. People talk in cohesive sentences, not choppy, robotic ones. Even when they're nervous, the tone still makes sense."
Connor glances at his friends and makes a pouty face. "Look at that. She's analyzing every route in order to avoid a heartbreak. How cute."
Beside me, I hear KJ snort. Everyone knows that's not what Brenna's doing. She's pointing out the obvious signs everyone saw. This video is a fake. Connor's trying to make me look like the villain all over again. And I've worked too fucking hard to be viewed as a villain again.
Brenna rolls her eyes. "For fuck's sake. You're daft. What baffles me is you're a goalie and you have no strategy. How can a mind like yours even comprehend the game of hockey?"
Connor grits his teeth, and I rest a protective hand on Brenna's waist. Brenna could easily defend herself, but I want the satisfaction of kicking Connor's ass for her. For too long, I was part of the problem. Now I want to be a solution. If Connor strikes, I'll make sure Brenna is nowhere near his fist. Even if I have to shove her out of the way.
Resting her hand atop mine, Brenna cocks her head to the side. "It must bruise your ego to know you made Shea and I happy. This bet was beneficial, so maybe I'll thank you for it." She nods at me. "We put our differences aside and figured out how to work together. We gained each other's respect and trust. Yet you're still trying to make it seem like we hate each other. It's quite funny."
I cough to cover up a laugh. She's right—it is funny. It's like Connor thinks everyone lives in his world. In reality, nobody is complying to his antics anymore. He held some power over us until we realized he's just an insecure asshole. He isn't a threat. He's weak. And the reason he's bullied Brenna, me, and the rest of my friends is because he's scared of us. To him, we're a threat.
Brenna shakes her head. "You know what, this is a waste of time. Let's get out of here."
I freeze. No. This isn't good enough. Walking away from Connor will only piss him off. He'll retaliate. He needs to know we're done. That these games are over and that if he ever fucks with us again, there'll be hell to pay. When Brenna turns around and tries to guide me to the door, I step around her.
"No," I say. "We're not finished here."
Crossing the hallway, I level myself with Connor. Then jab him in the chest. "You're a fucking bully, Connor. Beating up Jayden in the locker room. Threatening to hurt my friends. Pulling Brenna into a bet without her permission. Touching her without her permission. Teasing KJ about his relationship with Ella. Fuck, man, the list goes on and on. You're a pathetic piece of shit."
Rage burns in Connor's eyes. "You're no different, Smith." His gaze flicks to Brenna, then back to me. "You were planning on fucking her over."
"Yeah," I shrug. "That's correct. But you can redeem yourself with accountability. That much I've learned. My mistakes will haunt me until the day I die, but I'm thankful for that. They'll remind me about what kind of person I want to be." I snort with disgust. "And it's nothing like you. I don't care if you're going through a rough patch at home or some other victimizing excuse. You control how you react. You control your behaviour. Nothing excuses your behaviour. Do better, Connor."
With that, I turn back to Brenna and loop my arm through hers. When she looks at me, I have this strong urge to kiss her. It's a mix between awe and pride. A warm feeling spreads through my chest. I like this version of myself better. The one who can do the right thing, even when it seems difficult.
And I have Brenna to thank for that.
Behind me, I hear the scuffing of shoes against hardwood. Then, before I know it, I'm on my hands and knees on the floor. When I turn around and look up, I see Brenna and Connor facing off.
From here, Brenna looks like a raging queen. Powerful and strong. Defiant.
"You want to fight someone?" Brenna spits. She shoves Connor. "Then fight me. I'm the one who annoys you, remember? Karma's a fucking bitch, Connor. " She cocks her head and lifts an eyebrow. "Or are you too scared?"
The rage in his eyes burns stronger, and I feel completely helpless as Jayden and KJ help me back to my feet. As much as I want to intervene, something's holding me back. Brenna's handling the current situation. If it escalates, then I'll intervene. But I have to let her do this.
Even if I don't want to.
Although Connor is after me, I know Brenna needs this moment. Connor's put her through enough shit. It's time for retribution.
Connor's gaze meets mine. Again, the rage burns. "Get out of the way, Harrison."
She shoves Connor again. "What's wrong, Watt? Are you scared?"
Her voice is taunting. It reminds me of the chirps she tosses at me while we're playing hockey, but with a helluva lot more venom. Connor better be careful with his next moves. Otherwise, Brenna'll kick his ass.
"Of a girl?" He sneers. "Hell no."
Connor lunges, throwing his fist.
With grace and the fluidity of a viper, Brenna avoids the punch and throws one that connects with Connor's jaw. Connor stumbles, clutching his sore jaw. There's already a red welt forming.
Brenna then seals the deal with a knee to the balls.
As much as I hate Connor, I still cringe, remembering the time she did that to me. It was a much softer hit, but it still hurt like hell. I can't imagine the pain he's feeling as he falls to his knees and gasps for air.
"Fuck," he curses.
KJ rests a hand on my shoulder and whoops. "If the bro-code weren't in effect, I'd have done that a long time ago. Beautiful."
KJ has a point. No matter how much another man is pissing you off, it's immoral for a man to knee another man in the balls. For a man, it's very weak move if you ask me. For a badass woman like Brenna, fucking priceless.
Leaving Connor on his knees, Brenna turns to me. I stare at her in awe, wondering if now would be a good time to kiss her. When she smiles, a smug grin spreads across my lips and I wrap my arm around her shoulders. My lips press against her cheek.
"Ready to go?" I ask.
"Yes," she nods.
Relief hangs heavily in the air between me and my friends. We're finally done with this shit-show.
But then Connor has to open his mouth again.
That's right, Smith," Connor drawls. "Keep walking with that slut hanging off of your arm. By tomorrow, everyone's gonna be glad that abrasive, ball-busting bitch is off of the market."
I freeze against Brenna, every muscle in my body tense with anger. My arm drops from Brenna's shoulders, and I turn around, staring him down. "Want to repeat that?"
Connor crosses his arms, keeping his fiery gaze locked on Shea. "You heard me, Smith. Everyone knows you two are fucking, but what will the league think when they catch wind of Brenna sleeping with the entire team?"
Without looking at Brenna, I can gauge her reaction. The small gasp that escapes her lips is enough to make my temper snap. Connor knows what a rumour can do. How biased the league, aside from Aiden and Coach, is. They'll believe Connor before they believe Brenna—even with support from me and the guys and our coaches. The upper powers in the league...
I step forward, quickly followed by KJ, who cracks his knuckles. "See, now you're just a downright moron, Connor. You should not have said that." KJ shakes his head in disbelief.
"What are you going to do?" Connor challenges.
KJ's grin is smug. "I will not do anything. But we will."
He gestures to the group. Me, Jayden, Hunter, Drew, Ian. We're all here, ready to stand up for Brenna and kick Connor's ass. Although we're from different teams, we stand united for our friend. Brenna is somebody. She deserves to have people that support her.
A look of concern fills Connor's features, and he takes a step back.
I take that as my opportunity.
Without giving him a chance to react, I swing my fist and connect it with Connor's nose. Just like he did to Jayden, there's a crack that's followed by a waterfall of blood.
Then I have Connor pinned to the ground, getting another good punch in. My rage has overtaken my logic. This fucker deserves to pay. "You fucking bastard." I grip his shirt, pull him up, then slam him against the concrete. "You have ten seconds, Watt. Give me one good reason I shouldn't smash your skull into the concrete."
Connor spits. A mouthful of blood stains the ground. And I can taste blood from my split lip. Huh. He must've thrown a few punches, too. Come to think of it, my eyebrow is aching, too.
"What makes you think you can spread rumours about my girlfriend?" I yell.
Connor wipes away the blood from his nose. "Possessive, eh? At least you know who's in control."
"We're exclusive to each other," I spit. "I don't own Brenna, but I'm still allowed to say she's my girlfriend. Just like she's allowed to say I'm her boyfriend."
Connor snorts. "Still sounds possessive."
The rage intensifies, but when I make eye contact with Connor, something changes. Why am I doing this? Why am I wasting my time with violence? Throwing punches and saying shit that he'll never adsorb. Connor is a one-minded being. He doesn't care what other people say or feel. All he cars about is himself.
I slouch, letting my hand drop to my side. Then I stand up and step away from Connor, staring down at him with disgust. "You know what? You're not worth my time. The game's over Connor. You lost. But if you so much as try to spread a rumour about Brenna, I will destroy you on the ice. Be it an injury that benches you or kills a potential career."
I lower my voice, making sure he gets the memo. "Don't fucking test me."
For the first time, genuine fear fills Connor's eyes when he looks at me. I feel a rush of pride. He doesn't control me anymore. No one ever will.
Still staring at him, I say, "We're leaving."
Turning around, Brenna meets me halfway, throwing her arms around me. I embrace her hug with joy and relief, breathing in the smell of her perfume. It grounds me, making me feel more human than I did a minute ago.
"Let's go," I murmur.
Without looking back, we leave the house without hearing another word from Connor.
* * *
During the walk back to the vehicles, something overtakes me. Maybe it's the sudden depletion of adrenaline. Or, maybe, it's because now that my issues with Connor are off the table, my other issues have now risen to the surface.
Every so often, Brenna looks at me. Her expression soft but worried. And when we arrive at her vehicle, she passes the keys to KJ. "Take everyone to Shea's house. We're going to walk."
I'm standing with the guys, talking about everything that just went down. So Brenna thinks I don't hear her, but I do. I stare ahead, the house that still has its Christmas lights on. Whatever the fuck these homeowners are on, I don't want any. It's a crime to have your Christmas lights up in the middle of April.
Getting back to reality, my house isn't far from Connor's. Maybe a good fifteen minutes or so. While my mind continues to spin, I come to the conclusion that walking will be good for me. All I can think about is hockey, school, and Chelsea now, and I'm on the verge of being sick.
Jayden claps me on the back. "You were so badass, man! I'm surprised Connor didn't piss himself."
Hunter, who is sipping from a flask, nods. He pulls the flash away from his lips, cringing. Then passes it to Drew. "I agree," Hunter nods. "I would've pissed myself. You were a fucking beast, Smith. Honestly, though, it's shame I didn't get to punch Watt. He's such a dick."
The flask continues to make its way around the circle. When it comes to me, I take a small sip, letting the liquid burn my throat and warm my chest. I cough, passing it to Ian.
"What, man?" he grins. "Are you a fucking lightweight?"
I shrug, directing my attention back to KJ and Brenna. They exchange more words before heading over to us.
"I'm gonna start a group chat and invite a few people over," Jayden announces. "KJ, is it cool if I invite Ella, too?"
Although KJ looks a little uncomfortable, he nods and says, "Yeah. No problem."
Jayden nods, then lists off all the contacts. "Cat, Evren, Ella, Willa..." He trails off, wrinkling his nose. "God, hockey is fucking sexist." He fires off the text, then explains why Nick won't be able to make it. "Nick's sister is home from university. He wanted a quiet night with the family."
Ian, who has been eyeing Jayden all night, steps closer. He brushes his hand against Jayden's forearm. "I can pick up the pizza. And if any of the ladies need a ride, I can pick them up. Also, what to we want for drinks? Superstore is open until eleven. Sparkling water? Pop?"
Ian's mundane suggestions spark a debate. Half the group wants to drink. The other doesn't want pineapple on their pizza.
All I want is a strong drink and a slice of pizza with a shit-ton of pineapple on it.
But before I can express that, I'm tugged away from the group by Brenna. We head down the sidewalk for a good five minutes before I ask, "Where are we going?"
It's a false question. I know we're heading to my house. But I don't want Brenna to know I overheard her conversation with KJ.
She looks at the sky and says, "It's a beautiful evening. I thought we could walk to your house."
My expression stays neutral. That's not why she dragged me down the sidewalk, away from the group. It's obvious she wants to talk about something. Ever since the fight, I've been distant. She probably wants to know why I'm acting this way.
Being this in-sync with Brenna scares me. It makes me question what the future has in store. Will we break up or try a long-distance relationship? Will I stay here or move to Boston, despite the home issues? Despite all that, I can't prevent myself from thinking about hockey. It's my dream to make the NHL. Receiving a letter from Boston University is my first step toward being drafted.
As selfish as it is, I don't want to give up the opportunity.
But I may have to. I can't leave Chelsea behind to deal with my parents alone. Even with Noah's help, it's not enough. She deserves to have a supportive framework. Without me, that's nonexistent.
Brenna takes a deep breath and interrupts my thoughts. "Are you okay?"
Her questions makes me flinch. It's an innocent question. She cares about me, so I can't blame her for asking it. But my answer is so complicated. My mind can hardly fathom the response.
"Please tell me Connor was lying, and I didn't just make a fool of myself."
Despite the shock that radiates through my body—how could she even think that question—I keep my gaze focused on the ground as I organize my thoughts. Once I have, I stop and shove my hands in my pockets before turning to Brenna. I search her blue-violet eyes, looking for an answer to all my problems. Whenever I see Brenna, she reduces my stress and makes me think of all the good things that have happened.
But right now, all I can think about is Connor and the shit he caused.
"At first," I say," I didn't know when that video was taken. It scared the hell out of me. I thought I was going to lose you. But I swear, Bren, that video was edited. My intention that night was to stand up to Connor—which I did. He's manipulating my words. I swear. Believe me."
Brenna doesn't hesitate. "I believe you. "Excellent communication skills are part of the foundation that contributes to a healthy relationship, though. Our emotions are valid. Sometimes we need confirmation. Just because I asked doesn't mean I don't trust you, Shea. I do. We've proven to be trustworthy to each other." She pauses, gnawing on her tongue. "You've been off all day. Is there anything else you want to discuss?"
Turning away from her, I kick the side of the community mailbox. A loud bang echoes through the neighbourhood.
"What else is bothering you, Shea?"
I straighten my posture and turn to Brenna, my muscles tense and my head on the brink of a migraine. "Why are you always so calm?"
She snorts. "Calm? You've seen my temper before, Shea. Don't call me calm."
I can't prevent myself from smiling. "Okay. You have a point."
Brenna hesitates before reaching over and brushing a strand of hair away from my forehead. Ever since the playoffs ended, I've been reminding myself I need a haircut. Things have just been too busy. Maybe I'll try to get one next week.
I can't help but internally laugh. A haircut is the last thing I should be worrying about.
"Something else is bothering you, Shea," Brenna continues. "Even when you're pissed, you don't use aggression like you did tonight. Something's tipping the scale."
Frustrated, I unzip my coast and remove the envelope from my pocket. Every time I touch it, it feels like my hands are burning. I run my thumb over the crease before handing the file to Brenna.
She frowns and flips it over, peeling back the sticky portion before removing the papers inside. It's folded in half, so she tucks the folder beneath her arm and unfolds the paper. I watch as her eyes read over every word. There's a crease between her brows and she's chewing on her thumbnail.
Halfway through, she starts to cry. I want to comfort her and tell her everything's okay, but I can't. Lying to Brenna isn't healthy. Plus, she understands how extreme this scholarship is for me. There's an undeniable weight on my chest.
"Shea..." she whispers.
"I'm declining it," I say.
She gapes at me. "No you're not! You are going, Shea. This is a scholarship! You'd be a fool to decline."
I run a hand through my hair. "I'm a fool either way, Brenna! If I leave, my sister suffers from my selfish parents. If I stay, I miss out on hockey. My family is more important. God, I'm so fucking sick of this shit!"
Brenna stares me down and crosses her arms. "Then you miss out on making the NHL."
A wave of emotions devours me. I can feel my nose burning as the tears threaten to spill. "That too."
She reaches up and wipes away her tears. "Go. Promise me you will."
I throw my hands up, letting the anger consume me again. "But what if I don't want to leave you? Or my friends? What if I miss home too much? And what about Chelsea? I can't leave her here!"
My voice cracks, and that's enough for the tears to start streaming. After all the shit that's happened, I'm tired and burnt-out. There is too much pressure on me. Instead of worrying about my sister, I should be worrying about making friends in Boston. These responsibilities aren't mine to handle. I drop my face into my hands and begin to sob, letting the emotions overtake me.
I press the heels of my hands into my eyes. "I c-can't do this anymore! Why can't life be simple? It's... it's supposed to be e-easy!"
Brenna rushes over to me. Tips my chin up. "Life is never easy, Shea. Deciding is the hardest part. We don't want them to hurt other people, but we also want them to benefit ourselves. But Shea? As much as we love each other, we still have our lives ahead of us. There will be obstacles. And... and maybe university is an obstacle. Don't let our relationship prevent you from fulfilling your dream. Go to that fucking school. Accept the scholarship. That's my stance on the situation. I can't speak for your friends or family. But I think you should go. Because if two people love each other enough, they will make it work no matter what."
Overwhelmed, I pull her into a hug and bury my face into her neck. She smells like home. "I love you, Bren."
She tightens her arms around my neck. "I love you, too, Shea."