Playing the Part

19. date

Everett

I hate Thursdays. 

Maybe it's the fact that I've got six straight hours of statistics and calculus (a product of being a hungover pissant when choosing my schedule) or maybe it's the fact that I'm still reeling from that night, a couple of days ago. 

I've been actively avoiding Allie because it's the only way I'll get over it. 

I'm too attached, thinking about her too fucking much for something that's play pretend. 

Even as every fibre in me is craving some sort of contact with her, I need to stay away. So like the pros say: out of sight, out of mind. 

After my last (thank Jesus) data analytics class, I walk across to Elo's rink with a pounding headache but we've got a game tomorrow. And any extra practice to secure another win is non-negotiable. 

Right as I'm about to push into the locker room, I spot Tori with her usual pretentious catwalk coming toward me. 

"Hey." She's a certified locker-room lurker. 

I cough. "Yes?"

"Jeez, a hello back would be nice." She's looking up at me with her lips pressed into a thin line, like she's not impressed or something. 

Like I give a shit. 

"What do you want?" 

"So, I've been thinking about," she waves her hand around, "us. And I want to give it another shot. Look, my bad for cheating on you an-" 

"Whoa," I stop her and scrunch my eyebrows, "I'm dating someone. What do you mean with giving it another shot?" 

Tori cocks her head and scoffs, "your someone's going on a date with Zach. I thought the two of you were over." 

She's what?

"Aw, Everett, don't tell me you just found out your girlfriend is going on the date with someone that's not you." She's smoothing her hand over my bicep and I don't know who gave her the right to touch me. 

Wasn't fucking me. 

"Tori, we're done. I don't care if she's fucking the entire Boston population; you and I are never happening again." I shake her hand off me and for the first time, I see her usual aloof demeanour crack. 

She takes a shaky breath in, runs her hand through her pin-straight hair and I'm guessing I should be really terrified right now. 

But I'm not. 

Instead, I'm pushing the door into the locker room and fucking confused about the fact that she's hiding this from me. 

And I feel like a goddamn idiot for ever entertaining the idea of us, even if it was for a fraction of a moment. 

"Yo, someone shit in your cereal, Evie? You didn't have to break the door to get in, ya know?" Leon shut up right now, please. 

I throw my duffle onto the ground and run my hands through my hair. 

Why the fuck am I so pressed about this? This was always the plan, I should be fucking celebrating the fact that I accomplished both things. 

Hell, I can go back to hooking up with nameless girls while bearing the thought that Tori deeply regrets breaking up with me. 

So then why am I still feeling like my internal organs are on fire? 

"It's about Allie, isn't it?" Nick says.