Page 178 of The Pucking Coach's Daughter
“No more incidents?”
I shake my head. My cheeks heat. “You guys haven’t left me alone?—”
“Don’t give me that,” he interrupts. “If you wanted to, you’d find time alone.”
I spin in a slow circle. The cuts on my ankle are still ugly, but they’re scabbing over. By some miracle, I’ve resisted picking at them. The ones under my watch—which sits on the counter—have progressed even farther.
“This week has been… better.”
He waits.
“Hard to get out of bed sometimes,” I admit. “And when I’m at school, all I want is to be back in bed. Peopling is hard. Doing my schoolwork is tiring. Remembering to do everything I have to—eat, go to bed on time, brush my teeth, wash my hair, laundry—is exhausting.”
His gaze softens. “But you’re still doing it.”
“Mainly because of you guys.”
I shed my shirt, my only remaining article of clothing, and drop it on the floor. The water is steaming, which I appreciate. I step into the water and wait for Carter to join me.
“You give us too much credit,” he finally says. “You’re stronger than you think.”
fifty-five
sydney
Penn and I walk into the gymnasium. Purple-and-white-clad students line the bleachers, and I shrink in on myself. He squeezes my hand and leads me to a few open seats. I make myself busy unzipping my coat, fiddling with my hat…
“No one’s looking at us,” he says.
He finally told me about my dad’s “practice” on Monday evening. “So if the hockey players are suddenly going out of their way to be nice, you’ll know why,” he added at the time.
I haven’t experienced that, but it seems like they might be talking about me in a better light? Because not a damn person has glared at me since Monday. No one’s purposefully not held a door or knocked their shoulder into mine.
I crane around. “Do you see them?”
My attempts to get Brandon or Dylan to talk to me has utterly failed. Maddy, however, was quick to sympathize. And after a strongly worded apology from both of us, we’re good again.
I think.
“There’s Maddy.” Penn points to where more students are filtering into the gym. He waves frantically, even standing and bouncing up and down, until she spots him.
Then me.
She joins us, sitting on my other side, and smiles. “Glad you could make it.”
“Yeah.” I focus on breathing and not puking. “Did you tell Dylan or Brandon?”
She shakes her head. “I haven’t seen either of them much. Dyl’s been super busy with practices and her class schedule, and Brandon… playing the avoiding game.”
“Love that.” Penn squeezes my knee. “They’re assholes.”
“Eh.” I shake my head. “They’re just…”
“I told him he was an idiot,” Penn continues. “And now he’s just proving it.”
Maddy smiles.
I… don’t. Because my father is striding into the gym like he’s on a mission, and it only takes him a minute to find me. I swallow hard, glancing at Penn. He’s talking to Maddy now, going on about how my track record with friends is unfortunate.