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“I hope that changes with time. I really care about you, Eliott.”
He scoffs while he studies me again, and then he walks away. I watch his back disappear through the door. I’m not sure how long I sit here, just staring at the empty sidewalk that he vanishes down.
“Do you want that in a to-go cup?” a soft voice asks from beside the table.
I glance up at the barista, the same one who was talking to Eliott earlier. She has a sympathetic expression on her face, making me think she’s just the type of girl that he should be with.
“Sure. Thanks.”
She takes my mug and transfers the coffee into a Styrofoam cup, handing it to me when she’s done. I rise and leave the shop, knowing I won’t be back. The only reason I ever came to this part of the city was to see him.
My heart is hurting. If someone were to ask me right now if it’s easier to be the one breaking things off or the one being broken up with … I think I’d pick the latter. Because I hate hurting people. Especially people I care about. But I also know how practical Eliott is, and I don’t think he’ll be down for long. He’ll put one foot in front of the other and focus on medical school. It’s been his priority the entire time we dated anyway, and that won’t change. And he’ll find someone who fits his life better than I do. He’ll be happy. Thinking about that makes me feel better.
As I walk down the sidewalk toward the train, I know I did the right thing. Because the heaviness that was weighing me down on the way in is no longer there. I feel sad for things lost, but light and free with thoughts of things to come. And the relief only grows as the train takes me farther away from my past and toward my future, whatever that might hold. There’s something magical about not knowing where I’m headed, and I try to grasp on to that with both hands.
I open my screen and dial Suki’s number. It rings once, twice …
“Hello?” she answers breathlessly.
“Where are we going on Friday night?” I ask.
I sense her smile through the phone.
It feels like the world might just be mine for the taking for the first time in a while.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
SAM
I jump the wall and take off, my skates gliding over the ice like a rocket taking flight. My feet are barely touching the ground right now. Ollie passes me the puck. I pass it back and fly toward the middle of the rink, lowering my shoulder into the defender who tries to push me out of the space. The puck finds my stick again, and I shoot. My slapshot hits the empty space over the goalie’s left shoulder and flies into the net. The buzzers erupt, along with the crowd. My teammates swarm me.
I didn’t realize how much of a difference a clean diet and a good night’s sleep would make with my performance. But I’m playing the best I ever have. I’m barely drinking these days. I haven’t had takeout in a couple of weeks. I wake up alone, well rested and refreshed in the mornings. I’m faster, and my reflexes are sharper. My body feels like a well-honed machine, and my energy level is unmatched these days.
I win the drop at center ice and stay in the game for another minute before I switch out for the next line. I take the seat next to Ollie on the bench.
“Nice pass,” I say, adjusting the tape on the end of my stick.
“Nice goal,” he reciprocates. He glances over at me and back at the ice. “You keep playing like this, and we’ll make the playoffs again this year.”
“You would’ve made the playoffs without me here.”
“Maybe.” He shrugs. “Maybe not. But our chances are better with you on the team, playing like this.”
“I couldn’t make you look bad after you went out on a limb for me.” I see Ollie study me for a moment from the corner of my eye.
“I knew you had it in you.”
“You might be the only one,” I murmur, thinking back to the first day I walked through the doors of the arena.
Ollie chuckles before growing serious. “Then, prove ’em wrong.”
“I plan to,” I say with confidence.
“You already are.”
We knock our fists, and then both of us slide over the wall to relieve the last line. When the final buzzer sounds after period number three, the score is 3–2 in favor of us.
The locker room is buzzing after the game, everyone flying high now that the team is really gelling. The coaches are happy. The guys are satisfied. We’re on a winning streak. Home games, away … it doesn’t seem to matter where we play. It feels so good.
