Pillowtalk S2 | D.O'B.

4. It Happened One Night

Rory has no goddamn clue what she's doing here.

Sure, she had agreed to go to Dylan's hockey game when he asked, but around an hour later...she realized how outrageously idiotic it was for her to have agreed in the first place.

Yes, she's happy they can be civil. Yes, she's happy they can be okay...but she can't...she can't do this with him. She can't get attached again.

She can't be his friend.

She has Sage, and she has her studies, and she has...—

She doesn't need him.

However, Sage was thrilled with the idea of going to the hockey game, forcing Rory between a rock and a hard place.

She tried not to overthink it. She tried to accept that she and Dylan could be friends. That they could find a way back to each other...platonically.

She wanted to believe it. She wanted so badly for that to be true.

But Dylan...her Dylan...would never be hers again.

And having to accept that for a second time...wasn't something Rory thought she could do.

Nevertheless, here she sits, second row back behind the glass as Sage eagerly bounces in her seat.

Thankfully, they arrived late enough that Rory was spared from having to speak to him before the game started, but she sensed he was surprised she came.

She couldn't see his face very well, but she was able to place him when she recognized his last name emblazoned on the back of his dark blue jersey.

And his number.

Number five.

Her favorite number and she momentarily wondered if that just so happened to be a coincidence...or if he had specifically requested it.

She decided it was best if she didn't know.

"Oh, they all look so good," Sage gasps from beside Rory, hands clasped in front of her stomach as her eyes flick across the ice. "I just love hockey. My dad used to take me to games when I was little. It's so exciting, you know?"

Rory nods, lips pulled into her mouth. "Mhm."

"It's like...all the best parts of all the other sports," she continues breathlessly. "Brute force, elite skill, strategic hand-eye coordination. Plus...you have to do all of it on ice? I mean...it's perfect."

"Yup."

Sage straightens up, leaning from left to right in an effort to see. "Which one is your friend again?"

Rory feels the hairs on the back of her neck bristle. "Uh...number five. O'Brien."

"Ah." Sage nods, the corner of her mouth slipping up. "He's good. Cute, too. Think we had a class together last year."

"That's nice," Rory manages to grit between her teeth. Truth be told, she's not sure who she's more jealous of. "He's...fine. I guess."

"Stop, he's sweet," Sage argues, feigning insult. "And he's good, too."

"Yeah, you mentioned."

"Well—" Sage laughs. "Look, hockey is a difficult sport, and most of the guys that join a college team are absolute shit. So, I'm just surprised he's...you know, not."

But Rory isn't surprised. Dylan always did find a way to be the best at everything.

"Yeah," is all she mumbles instead, eyes finding the familiar boy as he skates his way toward his teammate. "I guess he's all right."