~Pucker face~ Charlie Conway

Chapter Eighteen: Our Truth

Five seconds left.

My gaze quickly shifted from the ticking clock to the puck bouncing from Adam to Ken, then to Russ. Finally, the buzzer sounded, and everyone took a deep breath. Another win.

We had been playing games left and right, very little rest in between. It was almost like Coach got such a thrill out of seeing us win, that it was like a drug to him. More, more, more. We were working our asses off and inching towards the greatest success. The state trophy. Our wins were piling up, which pushed us towards the daunting match.

We all walked off the ice and towards the locker room, chatting and planning a celebration dinner. I walked off into the bathroom to see how my black eye was.

To the touch, it was just a really bad bruise. It still shined an ugly greenish purple, stretching around my upper cheekbone to below my eyebrow.

Every time I looked in the mirror, my eye reminded me of my resentment for the boy with brown hair. Luckily, it wasn't questioned further by Julie and Connie, but I still saw Charlie pining for answers. He was hanging close, and I didn't like it. I would separate myself when he was around, and now I just wouldn't do anything. Hardly spoke, made no jokes, just went along with the flow. He was the one who picked up on my subtle shift of personality, but also was in the dark about why like everyone else.

Charlie constantly asked me if I was okay, and my best effort to keep him out of my head was to not respond. Eventually, it started weighing on me. I was being mean, this couldn't keep going on. I had talked myself into trying to tell him about my feelings so many times over the last few days, it was almost all I could think about. As the sun kept setting over campus, I would convince myself it would be best to sleep on it. Think, rest, repeat. A pattern that continued for at least two weeks.

🏒🏒🏒

The next Monday, Coach was home sick so we all just hung out at the rink and practiced our shots. Adam came way late, and he skated over to me with an envelope in his hands.

"Hey. This is for you. Found it by my stuff."

"Um..okay." I answered, taking it from his hands, reading the writing on the back.

It had my name, and as I lifted open the flap, instructions.

Coach Orion's office. Half past four.

There was nothing else in it, which seemed pointless.

It was 4:23 now, so I told Adam I was going to the bathroom and took off towards Coach's office.

The hallway was extremely quiet, and dark. Nobody was around, no other athletes. A light flicked on, shining through the window of an office door. It was his.

I stepped towards the door, wondering wether or not I should open it. Right when I got close, the light turned off, and the door opened from the inside.

"Whoever's in here, it's not fucking funny." I warned, stepping through the door frame.

I tried to comb through my memories of the last half hour and who I hadn't seen on the ice. It was pitch black, and besides a bit of shuffling here and there, not a single voice rose in the air.

"God this is pointless. Whoever's in here, I'm leaving."

"No!-" a voice sounded in the darkness, then a commotion followed. The door slammed and a body tripped into mine, causing me to fall and hit the ground, knocking the wind out of my system.

My eyes opened to see the same figure that caused the mess nearby, and all I could think to do was kick.

"Turn on the light or let me leave!" I demanded.