Page 35 of Find Me Under the Stars
“I don’t want to cry here, okay? Sometimes, it’s just hard, being around him after we broke up,” I admit, which is true.
“Why don’t you talk to him? I bet you two could work this out,” she offers.
I laugh at her, like a crazy kind of laugh, at the words she said so easily, as if it could be that simple.
“No. Leave it at that for tonight. Please,” I beg of her.
“Will you call me later?” she asks and reaches out for my hand.
After letting her brush my hand, I take another step backward and lean into the door. “Yeah. Now, please, I just want to leave without making too much of a scene. Go back to the party and have fun.”
“I love you,” she says with a saddened smile.
When I push backward, cool air wraps around me. “I love you too.”
Throwing the door open, I slink through it and gasp at finally being alone. Looking up, I try to see through all the bright lights, hoping to see my stars. But they’re undetectable, as is any ounce of comfort.
I can’t do this every time I see him. I can’t spiral and show that I still care. I need to be tougher than that. I will be stronger than that. I don’t have a choice if I want to save him from the anguish of loving me.
11
Reed
“That’s what I’m talking about!” I scream at Kos, as do the rest of our guys as we huddle around him.
Kos just tied the game up against the New Jersey Jackals with only four seconds remaining in the third period. There is almost no chance that we’ll be able to score again in the four seconds that remain, aside from a miracle. Which means that we are going into overtime. Which also means that the regular five on five turns into three on three. Three players from their team against three players from ours—and of course, the goalies too.
After skating in front of our bench for glove bumps with our teammates, we return to center ice for puck drop. The ref blows the whistle and then drops the puck. The Jackals gain possession, and both teams waste the clock because there’s not really a point in trying to run a play with that much time left. The buzzer sounds, and we skate to our benches for a quick break before the start of overtime.
After a quick talk from Coach Carrington, we are ready to get back on the ice and finish this game with a win. The ref at center ice blows his whistle, and our first overtime line skates out. Our first line consists of three forwards, which isn’t always a common grouping to leave out a defender, but we have found success with this, so we continue to use it.
Kos, Burnsy, and Costy ready for the puck drop—Kos at the center dot—and the whistle blows. The ref drops the puck. Kos wins the battle, kicking the puck backward to Burnsy. Costy is already practically waiting at the blue line to enter the offensive zone.
Burnsy must know before he even looks up because with a quick flick of the wrist, Costy has the puck and takes off toward the net with no Jackal players between him and the goalie.
He dekes out the goalie out by leading him to his left, and at the last second, he skates right, swings his stick wide, and flicks it into the top-right corner of the net.
The arena goes feral, the lamp is lit, and the bench is emptying out on the ice, taking off for our overtime scorer, Costy.
“Let’s fucking go!”
“YES!”
“Let’s go, boys!”
“Thatta baby!”
All the Nighthawks players continue to hoot and holler the entire way over to Costy, piling into him once we reach him.
“Woohoo!” I cheer.
After a moment of chaotic celebrating, we all bump helmets with Macky and head off of the ice. We’ve got places to be tonight—or rather, a place. The Penalty Box, the same bar we go to after every home game win.
As we skate off of the ice and begin walking down the tunnel, the wind gets knocked out of me.
I didn’t think she was going to be here tonight. As much as I wished I could help it, I looked for her, but I didn’t see her the entire game.
Charlotte is filming us walking past her, and the smallest grin lifts her plump lips. That is, until I fill the frame of her camera. Her eyes fly up over the camera lens, and for a brief second, all I see is sadness in her eyes. But as fast as it was there, it is quickly replaced by neutrality, like there isn’t a single emotion behind those annoyingly beautiful blue eyes. She looks back down at the camera and doesn’t say a word to me.
