Twisted Turnaround

Chapter 2

ANDREA

"Fucking asshole," I shout as soon as my brain finally sees the real way the night had happened. I thought that there was a guy who genuinely wanted to be with me and liked me enough to sleep with me but it was totally the opposite. I didn't see it then but I do now. I see exactly how that night went down.

The noise in the locker room silences with the shout that comes out of me. The players are all still as they watch me and I knew what they were thinking. How did a girl who barely raised her voice all of a sudden started to shout? The guy that was standing next to Miles glances at me and then at the guy I was glaring at his teammate. He curses under his breath and then automatically steps away from the scene.

Miles, the guy in question, has the audacity to look confused as he stares at me, brows forrowed.

"You fucking shit," I shout, this time moving closer to him where I slam my hands into his chest. He loses his footing for a second and as soon as my hand touches his chest, I feel a thrill of adrenaline go through me. But I move my hand to my side and instead fist them up. Then I look up at him, glaring behind my eyelashes. "You are really a shit."

"I—"

"Don't," I say shaking my head. I didn't want to hear how he would have a way to explain himself out of this. How he would be able to manipulate me into thinking it happened another way. "I don't need to hear a way you'd get out of this. It's simple really. You slept with me to get what you want."

It seems the entire locker room is at a more of a silence now. I can hear the sound of my heavy breathing, at the way blood was rushing to my head. I hear myself take a sharp breath in and for a second there, the only second, my breath is shaky. I swallow hard and then say, "Fuck you."

I turn around to leave, done with wasting my time actually thinking a guy like this would actually like me. It's beyond me. I don't do this and yet I decide to do it with the only guy who had the worst reputation around here. In the end, it's really my fault.

I feel a hand on my wrist and it automatically it causes for me to jump out of my skin. "Andrea," I hear my name, a soft whisper and it causes for me to shout. I've never shouted this loud in my life before. I see Miles flinch at my scream when I turn around to him abruptly. That causes for me to get even more angry as I move closer to him. I'm stalking toward him and before I can stop it, my hand moves on its own accord and I slap his right cheek. The noise that goes through the locker room is even louder than my shout and it causes a satisfaction through me.

I move my hand again but when I go to pick it up, there's fingers around my wrist. I feel everything that was remotely angry turn into regret when I turn around to see that I was being held back with the coach. I avert my gaze but I feel the way he was looking at me. "Why are you slapping my best player on the team, five minute before he goes out on the ice?"

But I cannot feel bad for the fact that I had slapped that piece of shit. I look up at the coach and then yank my hand away from his grip. "Your best player," I say to him, starting off with a sweet voice and then glance at Miles. "Is a piece of shit who could care less about anyone other than himself. So good luck having him on your team." And before anyone could say anything else to me, I turn around. Before I can get out of the locker room, I turn around once again.

I hold up the newspaper, and then look back at Miles. "No," I say with a little shrug. "You may have coerced me to write this," there's a loud noise of the sound of newspaper ripping in between my hands. "But there is no way in hell I'm publishing it." I rip the rest of the newspaper in half and then drop it at my feet. I look back at Miles one last time, at the way his face was set hard and there wasn't anything I could read in his face and then turn around on my heel.