Face off

He was supposed to be a stranger.

After an ugly breakup in high school, Isaiah Beckett and I made one thing clear: we wanted nothing to do with each other. No messages. No updates. No second chances. We started fresh. Different colleges.

Then I transferred to Ashton University and found him again.

Only now, he's not the quiet, awkward boy I remember. He's the star hockey player, the one everyone knows, the one who has scouts watching his every move and, apparently, the one who still knows exactly how to get under my skin.

Isaiah says I never understood what hockey meant to him.

I say he never understood what it meant to be left behind.

We used to know everything about each other. Now, we can barely stand being in the same room.

But old feelings have a way of resurfacing, especially when the person you hate is the only one who still knows how to hurt you.
And this time, neither of us is willing to admit what we might want back.