The Game That Breaks Us

by Micalea Smeltzer

  But, again, don’t judge a book by its cover.

  I play the part of the attentive boyfriend by asking, “Do you need anything, baby?”

  Grace jumps slightly and looks at me with startled eyes. “No, I’m good.”

  She’s uncomfortable, and she’s going to blow our cover if she keeps this up. Everyone thinks we’ve been dating since the start of the school year so her unease isn’t going to look good.

  I touch my fingers lightly to her flushed cheek and her lips part. “You have an eyelash,” I say as an excuse to touch her. She buys it. I brush the invisible eyelash away and she ducks her head. I take her hand in mine and relax into the seat.

  The game begins, and my stomach plummets as the guys skate out onto the ice. I should be there. My grasp on Grace’s hand tightens as I hold myself back from jumping out on the ice and making a spectacle of myself.

  “Bennett?” she asks nervously.

  “Yes?”

  She looks at me and then out to the ice. “Never mind.”

  “What is it?” I coax.

  She shrugs. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry you can’t play. I know it must be really hard for you to sit here and watch your team play without you.”

  I release a pent-up breath. “Yeah, it really fucking sucks.” I don’t see the point in lying.

  I’m tense for the first period. My team is behind by a lot. Luckily, they catch up in the second period and I can relax. When the second intermission comes, I know it’s show time.

  “Are you enjoying yourself?” I ask Grace, dropping my arm over the back of her seat.

  She lifts her head and smiles. “Actually, yes.”

  I grin and lean close and her breath catches. “Smile,” I whisper in her ear. “There are cameras on us.”

  “What are you up to?” she whispers back as I lean even closer.

  I don’t answer her.

  Not with words anyway.

  I take her face between my hands, allowing myself one second to marvel at how small her face is in my grasp, and then I lower my head and kiss her in front of all the thousands of people filling the stadium. I hear the shouts of, “Ooh!” and “Yeah, kiss her good,” and I know that our image is being projected on the screens. I don’t let that divert my attention, though. Instead, I kiss Grace like it’s only the two of us. At first, she’s tense in my hold, but she gradually relaxes and I can feel her throat vibrate with a moan. She kisses me back with a fervor I didn’t expect and I feel her fingernails dig into my shoulders. I angle her head back, deepening the kiss and the cheers grow in volume.

  I break the kiss before it reaches R-rated levels and press my forehead to hers. We both breathe heavily and I swallow thickly. It was supposed to be just a kiss, but suddenly it feels like so much more. Like I want more. Like maybe I wish it was real.

  I am so fucked.

  “Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!”

  “What the hell? Go away.” I try to shove Elle off my bed, but her skinny ass isn’t going anywhere.

  “Wake up,” she demands. “You’re famous.”

  That gets me to sit straight up in bed. Elle bounces by my feet, absolutely giddy.

  “What do you mean?” I ask.

  “Look.” She shoves her phone in my face. “This is everywhere.”

  I snatch the cellphone from her hand and look at the screen. An image of the kiss Bennett and I shared at the hockey game is plastered across the screen along with an article about us. I scroll down. It talks about how we’ve been dating for a month now—nearly two months actually, but whatever—and that I am a freshman. They even list my hometown and talk about the fact that I’m a Wentworth and therefore worth billions.

  A fact I’ve kept a secret about myself. Not even Bennett knows. I mean, it’s not a huge secret but since we keep to ourselves and don’t really infiltrate with the high society life outside of our home state, it’s not common knowledge.

  “You have to be kidding me,” I mutter.

  “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you’re rich. I mean, I kinda guessed it based on the way you dress, but billions? I had no idea.”

  I shrug. “It’s not important. It’s old family money. My dad owns a mechanic shop now. He didn’t want any part in the business. My uncle Trent has more to do with the business than him, but still not much. It’s just not a big deal.”

  Elle raises a brow like she begs to differ. “But you’re like … royalty or something.”

  I snort. “Hardly. We live in a normal house, in a normal neighborhood. We’re a normal family. I promise you.”

  She takes her phone from me and hops back to her side of the room. “This doesn’t change anything,” she says softly. “Just so you know, you’re still Grace to me and I still think you’re way too prissy.”

  I snort. “Thanks, Elle.”

  I shove the covers off and decide to get ready for the day. It’s Saturday but I still have a helluva lot of homework to do.

  I dress comfortably in a pair of jeans and a sweater and apply my makeup. I don’t feel like messing with my hair, so I gather the long dark strands into a ponytail.

  When I’m ready, I grab my backpack and a stack of books. “I’m going to study at the coffee shop,” I tell Elle.

  “Cool.” She nods, looking at her phone. “I’m going to meet Ryland for breakfast.”

  “Have fun,” I tell her with a small wave, but she’s too busy looking at her phone to see.

  Outside, the air is nippy, and I curse myself for not grabbing a coat. I still haven’t adjusted to the cooler temperatures here. Back home, it would be ten degrees warmer than this.

  The campus is beautiful, though, with its cobblestone paths and old gothic-style buildings. I had a hard time picking a college, especially with my parents begging me to stay close to home, but I know I picked the right one. This is where I’m supposed to be.

  I step into the coffee shop and inhale the smell. To me, a coffee shop smells like home and comfort. I love it.

  I step into line and place my order for a coffee and sandwich and then snag a seat in the back where it’s quieter. I scatter my books around the table and place my order card where someone will see it.

  Before I can sit down, my phone rings shrilly in purse.

  I pull it out and see MOM flashing on the screen.

  “Hey, Mom,” I answer in a bright tone. I try to call her at least once a day in the evenings, but I forgot to yesterday after the hockey game. I came back to the dorm and crashed. Hockey games are exhausting even when you’re not the one playing. “I’m sorry I forgot to call you.”

  “That’s not why I’m calling, Grace.”

  I know instantly that I’m in trouble. Parents just have that tone they get and you know it’s game over. “What did I do?” I cut to the chase.

  “Apparently, you have a boyfriend and didn’t tell us.”

  Shit. I completely forgot to tell them about Bennett. I mean, it’s kind of hard to tell your parents you’re fake dating someone you told them you weren’t dating—sounds like total bullshit, right?

  “I’m sorry,” I say.

  “I’m hurt that you wouldn’t tell me. We talk every day. I understand not telling your dad, but me?”

  The hurt in her voice kills me. “I forgot with all that I have going on.”

  “Hmm,” she hums like she doesn’t really believe me. “You have a bigger problem on your hands, though.”

  “What?” I grip the phone tighter and tip my head at the guy that brings my coffee and sandwich.

  “Your dad saw the same photo I did—it’s everywhere—and he’s on his way to campus.”

  “No,” I gasp.

  “Yes.”

  “He’s going to kill me.” I close my eyes and drop my head into my hand.

  She laughs. “No, he’s going to kill Bennett. Your brothers are with him.”

  “Not both of them,” I cry.

  Granted, Dean is more of a lover than a fighter but still, I’d rather not deal
with the two of them. Maybe I could distract Dean with some Pokémon cards. I wonder if anyone on campus sells them? Lincoln, on the other hand, will be more difficult to distract. He might be my little brother, but he’s still insanely protective and as a football player he’s huge.

  “Why didn’t you come with them?” I ask.

  She sighs. “Your dad grabbed his keys, yelled that he was picking up Dean and was gone. I saw the photo on his computer which is how I found out, so I put two and two together and figured he’s on his way there.” She pauses. “Plus, I tracked his iPhone.”

  “Mom, you stalker.” I laugh.

  She laughs too. “Hey, you do what you have to do.”

  “I was going to study, but I better go warn Bennett.”

  “I hope he’s treating you well,” she says, worry in her tone. “I googled him—because I mean, he had to be someone important for your picture to show up on the internet—and he’s been pictured with a lot of women, Grace. So be careful.”

  “I will, Mom. Promise.”

  “I love you.”

  “Love you too.” I hang up and eat my sandwich as quickly as possible. She didn’t say when they left, but I know it’ll take them at least ten hours without stopping, so I have some time.

  I throw away my trash and gather up my stuff again and head over to Bennett’s dorm. I figure I can tell him and he can skip town if he wants. Granted, it’s not like my dad and Dean are all that threatening: they’re both tall and slender, whereas Bennett is tall and bulky like Lincoln—but Lincoln is young—besides, I really don’t think it will come to a fight. At least, I really hope not. But if my dad googled Bennett like my mom did, he might be pissed enough to hit him.

  I make it to Bennett’s dorm and a guy that’s going out lets me in.

  I’ve only been to Bennett’s dorm two other times—he usually comes to mine—but I remember where it is.

  I bang on the door but there’s no sound on the other side. “Bennett,” I hiss. “Open this door right now. Bennett.” I bang some more.

  The door behind me opens up and a guy with messy brown hair and sleepy eyes glares at me. “Can you keep it down? It’s Saturday.”

  “Do you know where Bennett is?” I ask.

  He shrugs. “Probably the rink.”

  “Thanks,” I mumble and the guy disappears back into his room.

  Fucking great. The hockey arena is all the way on the other side of campus and I’ve already hauled my heavy books around this far. Bennett will be lucky if I don’t chuck one at his head when I find him. After all, this is his fault. If he hadn’t kissed me in a stadium full of people we wouldn’t have this problem.

  But oh, my God, that kiss.

  I spent all of last night thinking about it. I’ve never been kissed like that. But what sucks is that I know it wasn’t real. It was all for show. Bennett knew it would be projected on the screen and that it would invariably end up online and in the tabloids. I knew what I was agreeing to, but it still hurts, and that’s what really sucks. I have to keep reminding myself that it’s not real. So far, that isn’t working, though. When I agreed to Bennett’s stupid idea to be his fake girlfriend, I thought there was no chance I’d fall for the egotistical hockey player. But I’ve gotten to know him and he’s really not so bad.

  I head back across campus to the arena. Since it’s the weekend it’s open to the public. It’s big but I follow the signs and eventually find myself entering into the seated area. I walk down the steps and I can hear the slapping sound of a hockey stick against a puck. Bennett just looks a small speck from where I stand, but the further down I go, the closer I get. He hasn’t heard me. He’s too focused on slinging the pucks into the net. I drop my stuff into one of the seats and then stand in front of the glass so I can watch him better.

  Once he’s shot all the pucks into the net, he skates down the ice and climbs over a wall. He tears his helmet off and spits out his mouth-guard. His hair drips with sweat and he pushes the longer strands out of his eyes. He picks up a bottle of water and gulps it down.

  I head over to him. “Hey,” I say softly.

  He startles and nearly drops his water. “Fuck, I didn’t hear you.” He wipes some water off his jersey.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to sneak in. You were just really into it.”

  He flashes me a lopsided smile. “I take it you missed me? Come back for another kiss?”

  I push his shoulder but of course he goes nowhere. “Hardly. I came to warn you.”

  “Warn me?” He raises a brow and takes another sip of water.

  “My dad saw the photo of us and he’s on his way here.”

  I expect Bennett to look scared but instead his grin only grows. “Aw, overprotective daddy? I should’ve known Princess would have one.”

  I roll my eyes. “Sometimes I think about killing you just to shut you up.”

  He laughs. “You’re funny.”

  “I was serious.” I cross my arms over my chest. “My brothers are with him too.”

  He chuckles and says, “Okay. We’ll take them out to dinner then.”

  “Bennett,” I cry. “How can you be so blasé about this?”

  He shrugs and takes another large gulp of water. “Because it’s not a big deal. Your dad getting pissed over a photo is the least of my problems. You’re not even my real girlfriend.”

  My jaw drops, and before I can stop myself, I slap him right across his too smug face.

  He looks at me, stunned, and I stare back.

  I can’t believe I just did that. It’s not like me at all but Bennett infuriates me more than anyone else can.

  Only seconds pass before I turn and run.

  I’m halfway back to my dorm when I realize I left my backpack and books sitting on one of the seats in the stadium.

  I halt in my tracks and groan. I feel so incredibly frustrated. I don’t know why I even bothered warning Bennett, because he’s right: this isn’t real so it’s no big deal to him anyway. It is a big deal to me, though, and that’s where the problem lies. I don’t like keeping secrets and I definitely don’t like my dad being mad at me, but it’s not Bennett’s problem, it’s mine, and that’s something I have to come to terms with.

  I know I should turn around and go back to get my stuff, but I don’t want to face Bennett again. I hit him—and not a little smack, either. I’ve never been a violent person, but something about what he said struck a chord and it hurt. I know we’re not a real couple but I did think we were friends and what he said isn’t something you’d say to a friend.

  I decide to go back to the dorm like I’d originally planned. Thankfully, Elle is still gone. I pull back the covers on my bed and burrow myself beneath them, wishing they’d swallow me whole.

  I feel ashamed of myself and I hate that icky feeling. It sucks.

  I don’t know how much time has passed in my burrow of shame when someone bangs on the door. I know instinctively that it’s Bennett even before he shouts, “Grace, let me in.”

  “Go away,” I yell back, my voice muffled by the sheets.

  “Don’t make me break down this fucking door because I will. Try explaining that one.”

  “Ugh.” I throw back the covers and march over to the door, throwing it open.

  Bennett’s changed into a pair of sweatpants and a long-sleeve shirt, my backpack and books in his arms. He comes inside and drops them on my bed.

  I close the door and lean my back against it, putting as much distance between the two of us as I can.

  “I pissed you off,” he states. His cheek is tinged red where I slapped him, but the stubble on his cheeks helps camouflage it. Even still, it glares at me.

  “Yes,” I reply. “But I still shouldn’t have hit you.” I look down at the pale-pink polish on my toes.

  Suddenly, his sneaker-covered feet appear in my line of vision and then his fingers touch my chin and he lifts my head up so I’m forced to look at him. I know he can see the shame in my eyes.

  “I’m
a dick,” he says seriously, no traces of humor in his eyes. “I deserved it. I shouldn’t have said that to you.”

  I try to step back, but of course, the door’s still behind me so there’s nowhere for me to go to get away from him. “You’re right, though,” I start, pushing his arm down so he’s not touching me anymore—I can’t think straight when he touches me, “I’m not your real girlfriend. I’m nothing to you.” I move around him and to my bed.

  He grabs my arm before I can get too far and keeps me from retreating. “That’s not true, Grace. You’re not nothing. You’re …”

  “I’m what?” He licks his lips and his eyes dance over my face. “See, you don’t even know.” I shake my arm from his hold.

  He shakes his head roughly. “I don’t know how to describe it. I’ve never had a girl that’s a friend, but I guess that’s what you are. I like you.”

  I sit down on my bed and push my books to the bottom. “You can go now,” I tell him, not even looking at him. “I’ll deal with my dad on my own when he gets here.”

  Bennett stands there not saying a word.

  I force my gaze to his and glare. “You can go,” I say harshly. He looks at me strangely and stalks forward. “What are you doing?” I ask nervously.

  Before I can blink he lifts me up and my legs wrap involuntarily around his waist. He crushes his lips to mine and I startle, not having expected that. I grab onto his shirt to push him away, but instead, I pull him closer. My body doesn’t seem to realize what my mind wants to do.

  This kiss is different from the first because it’s real and not for show. I know it shouldn’t be happening, but I’m powerless to stop it. In fact, I’m hungry for more.

  I shouldn’t want to kiss Bennett.

  I shouldn’t like it.

  I shouldn’t, I shouldn’t, I shouldn’t.

  But I do.

  His tongue tangles with mine and I moan, desire pooling in my belly. I’ve liked plenty of guys, but none of them have ever made me tingle all over the way Bennett does. The kiss in the arena was electric but this one makes that one seem like a peck on the lips. This is intense and all-consuming. It makes me feel things—want things—that I shouldn’t want with Bennett, of all people.