Shut Out (Bayard Hockey #1)(71)

My belly muscles go rigid, hot pressure building inside me. My chest feels like someone just drilled a puck into it.

I know I screwed up, but not nearly as badly as she thinks I did. And I know my attitude has changed after being here, being with her, going through that training. But I was so tired of defending myself after that happened, trying to explain the truth to people who didn’t believe me. That shit hurt. And I’m not going to do it now. If she thinks that little of me, then she’s not the friend I thought she was.

I make my feet move. “I can’t believe you think so little of me without hearing my side of things. I’m out.” I stride away, not looking at her.





Chapter 26


Skylar


Classes are done and it’s study period, with exams starting later this week. I just want to get it done with. Some of the pressure has eased, knowing that I just have to get through this and the next semester will be different. I’ve already got my courses picked out and I’m thrilled with them. I’ve heard good things about the profs. I want to get on with it. And yet, I can’t blow things off this semester. I still want to do well.

Which tells me something. The pressure to do well wasn’t just coming from my parents—it was coming from inside me.

How about that.

I got a long email from my mom, telling me that they never expected me to be a doctor like Elisha and that they will support whatever I want to do. She said she was shocked when I said that, the day we had lunch after church, because she thought I wanted to be a doctor. She apologized for making me feel I had to be like Elisha, because they love me and are as proud of me as they are of her. I can still think of so many times they made me feel I didn’t live up, but I can now also see that I was putting pressure on myself. Pressure to try to be as good as Elisha, when really I am as good as her…I’m just different.

Mom also asked how they could support me after the rape, and I sent her some links to websites she and Dad could go to for information.

The night classes end is our pizza fundraiser at Santorelli. We’ve got some great prize donations—thanks in large part to Jacob. Santorelli is donating the pizza, which is being sold at a cheaper-than-usual price to entice all the students. Of course, they’re ordering drinks and other stuff too, so the restaurant is still making money.

The Italian restaurant is crowded, everyone letting loose a little before exams start. A lot of the Bears are there, hanging out, laughing with people, signing the affirmative consent pledge. And I know there are a lot of other people there because of that. It makes my chest hurt to see this. Jacob really came through.

He’s there too, sitting at the table with Grace, selling silent auction tickets and charming people into spending more money than they wanted to with his easy smile and chin dimple. I can’t stop looking at him. Doubts have been nudging me. I remember the stiff, hurt look on his face when he walked out.

I wish I had more to do, but things are so well organized, the event is practically running itself.

With a glass of lemonade in my hand, I lean against the wall, talking to Grace.

“This is going great,” she says happily. “You did a fantastic job, Skylar.”

“Thanks.”

She bumps my hip. “And Jacob did a ton of work. He’s so awesome.”

I say nothing and inspect my drink.

“Hey. You okay?”

“Oh yeah.” People keep asking me that, so clearly I don’t look okay. I have to do a better job of keeping my happy face on. I give her a wide smile. “So after our last exam, we’re going out to celebrate, right?”

“Right!”

We discovered we both finish the afternoon of the twentieth, and our plan is to go straight from the exam to the bar. I think I might not stop drinking until New Year’s.

Ha. I’m exaggerating, of course. Sort of.

But I’ve been sticking to my plan, trying to make new friends and move on with my life.

“I need another piece of pizza.” Grace pushes away from the wall. “Want one?”

“Yeah. Sure. Pepperoni.”

I haven’t had much of an appetite lately, but I’m faking that tonight too. And Santorelli’s pizza really is the best.

I glance over at the ticket table and this time my gaze collides with Jacob’s, who’s watching me. He doesn’t look happy right at that moment either.

An ache blooms in my chest, a throbbing longing. I miss him so much.

I can’t take my eyes off him.

I hate him.

No, I don’t.

Fuck, I’m mixed up.

It’s so hard to stop thinking about him, and what he did. Or what he was accused of. After I tortured myself by Googling him and reading everything there was to find about that incident, I learned that there wasn’t enough evidence to lay charges. He claimed he wasn’t even there. There were some people who confirmed he went upstairs with that girl and his teammates. There were also some who said they’d seen him leave shortly after. So it was never proved that he did anything. He did get kicked off his hockey team, though.

I hate him, but I find myself aching for him. Then reminding myself he’s an * and deserves everything he’s gotten.

I close my eyes against a wave of pain, turning away from him.

“Skylar.”

I look up and he’s standing there in front of me.