by Maya Hughes
Coming back to the water was different than stepping onto the rink. The beach had been where I went when things went bad. When things were fucked and I’d needed to clear my head. When I’d needed to yell at the top of my lungs because the pain was so sharp and all-consuming that I couldn’t hold it in anymore.
I hadn’t felt this bad in years.
Every light in the surrounding houses around me was out. The streets had been empty as I’d driven through the quiet shore town. It was still off season. Still too cold for anyone to entertain sitting out in the water and soaking up some rays. Not that anyone would be out late at night either.
Walking to the water’s edge, I braced myself against the freezing water. The waves rolled up onto the sand, sending the icy biting salt water hit rushing against my skin. The sand was dragged out from around my feet, and it felt like it might drag me away too.
This wasn’t how the night was supposed to go. The memory of the sting of hurt in Kara’s eyes made me double over. I rested my hands on my knees and stared out at the water.
Why couldn’t she see how bad things could get for her? That she’d be throwing away everything trying to give me what I needed. Things had been scary for a while. It was harder to keep a handle on the anger, and it was burning even hotter with Preston gone. The flames were stoked even higher. The way she had to put her hand on my arm to hold me back from the guy who’d threatened her. She knew what I might have done. She’d seen it and yet couldn’t see why I needed to step away. That fear still lurked in me. That there was a flip that could switch one day and I’d find myself becoming a person like him.
Leaning back, I stared straight up at the pitch-black sky. Everything I’d bottled up for years came pouring out. My yell sliced through the still night air. The waves did little to drown them out as I clenched my fists and let out everything I’d bottled up.
Every flare-up. Every time I’d shoved the boiling back down and clamped the lid on tight ripped out of my chest so fast and ragged that I was left panting with my hands on my knees, watching the waves crash into my legs.
I squeezed my eyes shut tight against the visions racing through my mind. The way the tears had pooled in her eyes. She’d blinked them back because that’s who she was. Her strength and independence had drawn me to her. Walking in that bar door, she’d hesitated. Assessed the situation and said fuck it. Pushed ahead even when she was unsure. She deserved the life she’d envisioned for herself before I’d shown up.
Backing away from the water, I collapsed into the sand, falling flat on my ass. Dragged my knees up, I rested my arms on them and tried to get a hold on my world.
With a raw throat and choppy breaths, I stared up into the ink-black sky and wondered if this wasn’t for the best. Kara could wreck me with a look. Topple every bit of restraint I’d had to protect her. The walls I’d put up when my mom and I had made that car ride across country, still beaten and bruised, came tumbling down when I was near Kara. And it scared the shit out of me.
31
Kara
Sending the e-mail off to Stevenson should have been scary. It should have made me want to hide under the sheets for the rest of the weekend, but that would have only left me dwelling on how I hadn’t heard a peep from Heath. Our next meeting was tomorrow.
Mak had seemed so sure that once he had some time to process everything, he’d call me. He hadn’t. My phone was collecting cobwebs. Despite myself, I’d checked on the scores of his team. Since the day after the memorial, they’d been on fire. Won every game since then—and not messy wins; decisive and overwhelming victories.
Seeing pictures of Heath online hurt. I’d finally stopped looking at the articles and stuck to the stats. They’d made it into the playoffs. Our other sessions had been canceled because he was traveling for games. My stomach was an absolute mess in anticipation of tomorrow. Would he even show up? What would he say when I told him I’d quit the PhD program?
I’d already put in a few applications to some writing fellowships and programs. This late into the academic year, most of the deadlines had passed, but there were a few still open. I’d scoured every program to see which might be the best fit. No one had ever seen my writing. The thought was equally exhilarating and nauseating.
It had been long nights taking old composition books, rereading what I’d written, and submitting the best samples. Then there had been the job applications and apartment hunting. The savings I’d had since high school were finally coming in handy. I figured it was time for me to really leave the nest. Stop worrying that if I wasn’t home anymore, I’d no longer be a part of the family.
Making all these plans still felt like I was making plans for a different person. I moved through the motions, but it was still someone else’s life.
“Who’d have guessed Miss Perfect herself would end up fucking one of her students?” Jason leaned against the doorjamb of the office with his arms crossed over his chest like the smug asshole he was.
I gritted my teeth.
“Who’d have guessed someone with a nose as brown as yours would be threatened by someone who actually knows their shit and does their job?” I closed my laptop. This place was officially on my do-not-study list. I might not be going into the PhD program, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to finish on a bad note. It wasn’t in my nature.
He scoffed and stepped into the office. “If you think I’m going to let you waltz in here and take a prize that belongs to me, you’re out of your mind.”
“I didn’t waltz into anywhere! All I’ve done since freshman year is work my ass off and do everything I can to get where I am now. You mean to tell me there weren’t any donations in your name to get you your spots?” I shoved back from the desk, and my chair smacked against the wall.
“You’ve always thought you’re better than everyone else, but I saw through you from the beginning. You’re trash and always will be.”
The loud, sharp laugh shot straight out of my mouth before I could stop it, not that I would have wanted to. A month ago that might have stung. It might have been enough to send me into an impostor syndrome-spiral, trying to figure out how he’d seen through me, but now I saw it for what it really was. The flailing of a pathetic guy who needed to belittle other people to try to make himself feel better.
“I was comforting a friend after his good friend died. He happens to be a student, but I would never let that kindness affect the way I grade. A grade, I might add, that doesn’t even really matter for him. He’s finishing out the season and going on to the NHL. How much do you think walking across the stage and getting that piece of paper matters to him?” I crossed my arms over my chest.
Jason’s nostril’s flared, and he looked like a cartoon villain. The only thing he was missing was mustache twirling.
“It’s still inappropriate.” He jabbed an angry finger at me.
“Maybe it was, and maybe I am trash like you said. But I know what I’m not, and I’m not a pretentious asshole who gets his rocks off on being a dick because I feel inadequate in every way possible.”
I let my gaze drop to his crotch to really hammer it home.
His face turned a nice bright shade of red. If he said anything, he could get Heath’s grade voided and then the team would be screwed.
I crossed my arms. “How about I give you what you want?”
His eyebrows scrunched down, and his gaze traveled to my breasts. Of course that would be what he’d want. I was vile and trash unless I was willing to spread my legs for him.
“I’ll withdraw from the running for the fellowship. Isn’t that what you want?”
“Not that you would have won anyway,” he sneered with his haughty I’m-better-than-you-because-I-was-born-into-a-family-with-money look.
“Maybe I would, maybe I wouldn’t, but now there’s no question. I’m out. You’re in. We’re done.”
And he stormed out. I probably shouldn’t have poked the bear. I shouldn’t have let myself revel in making him feel like shit l
ike he’d tried to do with me. If he said something to Stevenson or anyone else about me and Heath, I had some plausible deniability. Going with him to the memorial wouldn’t constitute a breach anyone would hold over me. Extenuating circumstances were always considered, and since Heath had left me standing in the middle of the brick walkway crossing campus, we weren’t anything more than TA and student. Had we been more than that? There wasn’t a label on what we’d been doing.
We’d had a few dates and had some awesome sex. Was it more than that? It had been to me. The way he’d made my body sing, made me laugh, and how he’d taken care of me even when he was hurting. It wasn’t something casual. A shiver shot through my body as I imagined we were back in the shower and his fingers were sinking into my scalp. I’d bit back a moan because it hadn’t felt appropriate then. But his firm yet gentle touch and the way he’d worshipped my body on more than one occasion meant it was beyond anything I’d experienced before. He’d helped me discover some things about myself that I’d tried to hide from for as long as I could remember.
32
Heath
The teeth-shaking blare of the horn signaling yet another goal filled the stadium. I skated past our bench and climbed into our team box. Sweat poured down my back, and I stared out at the ice as the guys changed positions and foraged forward, keeping the momentum going.
Glancing up at the scoreboard, I gritted my teeth. 3-3 and there were only forty-five seconds left in the game. My blood pounded in my veins. With my fingers gripping my stick so hard I thought I might snap it, I stood as one of the juniors on the team made a breakaway. His jersey flapped in the wind created by his speed, and he shifted the puck back and forth with his stick before faking out the goalie and sinking it cleanly into the back of the net.
Our bench exploded, and the guys grabbed each other, shaking the nearest person like they were trying to choke them out. Sticks and pads flew everywhere.
We’d done it.
We’d made it to the final four. I wrapped my fingers around the ledge of our box and ducked my head.
Only four games sat between us and the championship. The one we’d been a lock for at the beginning of the season. The one we’d decided to win to show Preston we could still kick ass even if he was laid up, and now the one we needed to win to put this team back together.
Everyone around me shouted with excitement and relief. We’d done the impossible and come back from the cusp of disaster. Somehow it all felt foreign and hollow. The gnawing pit in my stomach hadn’t let up since I’d turned my back on Kara. Walking away from her was the hardest thing I’d ever done. Sometimes when I was on the ice, I’d go blank and I was right back outside watching the tears glitter in her eyes. A hurt so bad I’d double over and have to take a knee until the wave of guilt and pain ebbed away enough for me to suck the air back into my lungs.
I had a singular focus: Win these games. It helped keep the dreams at bay, stopped the thoughts of what I’d walked away from crushing me under the universe’s boot.
I’d been so stupid; if that asshole said anything the class was voided, our wins for the semester wouldn’t count, and Kara would be in deep shit. Everything we’d accomplished would be washed away in the snap of a finger.
I should have thought about that before I went to her. I should have thought about that before I let her kiss the numbness away and turned my heart over to her. Tomorrow we’d see each other for the first time in a long time. I didn’t even know how I was supposed to sit in that room with her breathing the same air, watching her lips move and hearing her words.
Declan’s hands landed on my shoulders, not to hold me back but with an excitement that vibrated off him. I couldn’t hold back my own smile at his pure joy.
“We did it!” he screamed in my ear.
I threw my arms around him, and he thumped me on the back. “Preston would be proud, man. He’d be so fucking proud.” Declan’s hands fisted my jersey. The rest of the guys piled in around us, and we were under the crush.
But I knew he wouldn’t be proud.
I’d crossed the line I’d said I wouldn’t. Done the thing he’d warned me about, and tomorrow I’d have to sit across from a woman I’d torn down with my selfish need a little over a week ago. The guys deserved this chance, and I may have jeopardized everything.
We filed out of the stadium and onto the bus. Water dripped from my hair and down the back of my shirt. I couldn’t get tomorrow out of my mind. I needed to stop myself from doing what I truly wanted. What I’d wanted to do since the moment I’d told her it was over between us.
Everyone was wiped on the bus. It was so much more subdued than you’d think coming off a win like that, but it was a long drive back to campus, and we still had two more games to make this season count.
With my head pressed against the bus window, I shoved my earphones in and turned up the volume. The thumping beats of the music warred with the pounding in my head. Tomorrow I’d see her. Tomorrow I’d sit in front of her and hope she didn’t see that my heart broke a little more every second I made myself stay away. But I owed it to the guys to not implode the season. I owed it to her to not ruin her life, and I owed it to myself to never hold someone else’s fate in my hands and make it turn to ash.
“Mom, I got the onions. They had to go into the back to get enough.” I flopped the sack on the table. The letter I’d snagged from the mailbox was burning a hole in my back pocket.
“So you’re not avoiding me anymore.” She came into the room and hesitated.
I squeezed my eyes shut. I’d been avoiding her since the memorial. I didn’t want to see the disappointment in her eyes at what she’d almost witnessed.
Her arms wrapped around mine. “Why’ve you been running, sweetheart?” The sadness in her voice made my throat tighten.
I opened my eyes. “I’m screwing everything up.”
She let me go and tugged me down into one of the chairs at the kitchen table.
“What’s going on? I saw what happened at the service.”
“I don’t know what got into me. He was saying that stuff about Kara, and I lost it. I snapped.” My mouth opened and closed as I tried to find the words.
“I’m not talking about that.”
My head snapped up. “I almost hit her, Mom. I nearly hit her.”
“It was an accident.” She cupped my cheek. “Accidents happen.”
“Not like that. I know all about the accidents you had and I’ll never have that kind of accident.”
“Oh, honey.” She squeezed me to her. “There are so many things I regret, but one of the biggest is that you’d ever think you’re capable of doing what your father did.” Letting go, she looked up at me with so much caring it made it hard to swallow.
“I was so angry.” I fisted my hands in my lap, tears welled in my eyes.
“You don’t think I get angry? You don’t think sometimes I want to break something? That doesn’t mean you’re an abuser, Heath. If you don’t let it out, if you try to bottle it all up inside it’s going to come out in ways you can’t predict. Explode out of you when you can’t contain it anymore.”
I nodded.
She put her fingers on my chin and made me meet her eye. “Is that why you walked away from Kara?”
“One of the reasons.” I dragged my fingers through my hair.
“What is going on? You used you tell me everything.”
That was all it took for me to spill everything.
Mom covered my hand with hers. “Wow, that’s a lot you’ve got going on.”
I hung my head. “I’ve always got to go after the women I have no business being near.”
“Heath, stop. I know you, probably better than anyone, and I know what’s in your heart.” She pressed her hand against my chest. Tears welled in my eyes.
“Remember those seashells you used to bring me? You’d always look for the biggest and most colorful ones to try to get me to smile. There isn’t a doubt in my mind that you won’t figure
out a way to get through this. You’re strong. So much stronger than you should have had to be at your age.”
“Mom, there’s something else I need to tell you.” I slipped the letter from the parole board out of my back pocket. “I took it a few weeks ago. I didn’t want you to worry.”
Her eyes got wide and she took it from my hand, reading it over.
“We’ll deal with this later. Don’t worry. I love you, and you are my joy.” She pressed her lips to the top of my head. “Now, be a dear and help me cut these onions.”
I wiped my nose with the back of my hand. “I guess I’ll be crying for real in a little bit.”
“You’re strong, honey. You can handle it.”
I left my mom’s house and drove back to campus. Sitting in my car, I stared at everyone walking around in their backpacks, going about their lives. The weight of the secrets I’d been keeping from my mom were lifted, but the rest of it was still there, sitting like a stone on my chest, making it hard to breathe.
Less than ten minutes until I met Kara. I climbed out of the car and walked into the last of the unrenovated buildings on campus.
I leaned against the wall outside the door to the office. It was a place that had been equal parts torture chamber and retreat over the semester; now it was something worse. The email I’d sent asking if we were still on had gone unanswered. Not that she owed me one. I was the one who’d walked away.
Sliding my phone out of my jeans, I checked the time. Ten after. So it wasn’t my mind playing tricks on me, skewing time. I shoved my phone back in my pocket and adjusted the strap to my backpack. My foot was propped up against the wall, and my sneaker squeaked off the tile in the deserted hallway.