Chapter 6

six

GAMES & GOODBYES

T hank god I asked Colby if she wanted to get ready with me before the game. Not only was getting ready at her apartment so much more convenient, it gives me that much more time before I have to see Xander’s stupid face.

Each moment without him is another moment I can hold onto my sanity.

I’ve been brewing in a state of distress for the last two days about that stupid hallway incident. Flip flopping back and forth about what it meant and what it means that we haven’t talked since he left game night early.

Not even a text to make sure I’m meeting him in our regular seats.

“I love those boots,” I say as Colby pulls them out of her closet and lays them next to her bed. It seems like she’s indecisive about wearing them, but I think it’s a no brainer.

Her cheeks turn pink as she looks down at her oversized gray jersey with Wilder’s name and number on the back over her dark blue jeans. “You don’t think they’re too much for a game?” She leans down and picks up a pair of beat up tennies but I’m already shaking my head .

“Absolutely not,” I protest, batting the shoes out of her hands and picking up the sparkly cowboy boots to hand her. “I think they are just enough.” They elevate the outfit in such a fun and unique way. We are not leaving this apartment until those boots are on her feet. I would tell her exactly that, but I don’t want to scare her too much when this is the first time we’ve ever hung out just the two of us.

There’s only a three month difference between us, but she has always been Zac’s friend. And one thing about my little older brother? He can be very possessive of his people, and Colby is definitely his people.

Playing with Tate again has started to ease some of that with the increase of overlapping friends, teammates, and events they attend. But if I want Colby to be my friend too, I can’t come on too strong and send her running this first time.

She’s sat with us at a few games, but we’ve always had at least Isla and Xander both there with us.

I study her face as she takes the boots, her cheeks have reddened even more but she smiles. “Thanks, Em.”

Score. We are on the way to being the bestest of friends now.

She shakes her, her smile dropping. Oh no, maybe not?

“Sorry,” she apologizes and I can’t for the life of me figure out why. Her eyes drop from mine and hit the floor as she takes the boots and starts to turn away. “Zac and Wilder always call you Em, so it just kind of came out.”

Relief floods me and I start to laugh. “You don’t have to apologize,” I assure her. “You can call me Em.”

Her head lifts back up, her bright green eyes only partially hidden by her curls falling in her face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” I nod. We are killing this new friend thing.

She sits on her bed and starts putting on her boots. “I don’t like being called Col,” she admits, “but you can call me Colbs if you like. It’s not that great of a nickname, but Col makes me think of Cole Smith.”

We both scrunch our faces at the memory of another boy in their grade. “Can’t blame you,” I agree, even though I know I’ve heard my brother and Wilder call her Col before.

As if she can read my mind, she stands, wiping imaginary lint off her jeans and shrugs. “I made the mistake of telling the boys that and now they use it when they’re trying to annoy me or get me riled up.”

I slip my own jersey over my tank top and shake my head in commiseration. “They are the worst like that.”

She giggles and I’m surprised by how well we’ve clicked without my brother around. It can be hard for me to connect with people, but it feels so easy with her. “And don’t worry, I’ll come up with my very own nickname for you.”

“Deal,” she agrees and leads me out of her apartment. Her eyes flash to me and I catch myself checking my phone again and internally groan. Xander has me all messed up in the head. Instead of dwelling on that realization though, I start a group chat with Isla and Torryn. Thank god Isla thought to give me both of their numbers after watching a couple games together. There is absolutely no reason I need to even acknowledge Xander’s existence.

Only Isla responds, but I’m not surprised. “Isla and Tor also just left the hockey house,” I tell Colby who nods and fidgets with her purse strap.

“Do you guys watch every game together?” she asks after several silent moments as we walk across the business square.

“We started cause of Xander.” There he is again, invading my thoughts like a parasite. “He promised to keep an eye on Torryn, but you know my brothers.”

She laughs, a soft trinkle of a sound and I know she understands without having to explain more .

“Torryn doesn’t come to every game because of work, and Xander sticks to her like glue. But Isla didn’t have anyone else to watch with, and my best friend thinks hockey is boring.” I shrug off the comment about Becca, but it’s still something that’s been bothering me. She used to have no problem coming to all of the games with me. I don’t even know when that changed. But after being blown off three games in a row, I stopped asking and started reaching out to Isla instead. I’ll be devastated if she and Wells ever break up. “Now we just kind of assume we will meet up at the games.”

Colby’s boots catch the street lights as we walk under one. My fingers twitch towards my camera but there’s a moment of hesitation. Will she think it’s weird?

Oh well. I bet Wilder will like it at least.

“Keep walking,” I instruct her as I slow my steps and begin to fiddle with the settings on my camera. I want to catch the sparkle as the light shines down on her. I drop to my knees and I’m sure I look like a crazy person, but I ignore the other people milling about and take a couple shots of Colby walking with her back towards me as she reaches the next light before turning on my flash.

As soon as she sees the first flash, she turns on her heel, her copper hair fanning out around her with the speed of her turn. I can’t help but smile, knowing I just got a perfect shot. “What are you doing?” she asks, rushing back towards me. I notice the hue of her cheeks and cringe. I didn’t mean to embarrass her.

“I’m sorry. I just really liked the lighting. Especially with your boots. They looked so shimmery.”

Her eyes drop to her boots and I fiddle with my camera to look through the shots I took, picking out my favorite to show her. She smiles when she sees the photo where her hair is caught in motion, a subtle blur to the whole photo that I know will look amazing once I get to edit it, but the color on her cheeks only gets darker.

“Don’t apologize,” she mutters. “I was just surprised. I’m not used to people wanting to take my photo.”

I turn my camera off and we start walking again. “Does it bother you?” A hint of my own insecurity slipping through the words despite my best efforts to smother it.

Colby takes a moment to answer and dread builds in my gut. “I think it’s cool,” she finally answers after several extremely long moments where I was very aware I was holding my breath. I finally exhale and more relief floods me at her smile. “Is that why you always have a camera with you?”

I tilt my head to the side, surprised she noticed. I don’t carry one around as often as I used to. But I guess all the times she sees me, are times that I still do.

Westbrook is one of the only places I still continue to never be without it. “I like to capture moments,” I explain and before I know it we’re entering the arena. I barely even remember how we got here. Once we started talking about photography and Colby asked if that was what I wanted to do with my career, the conversation took on a life of its own. No one has ever got it the way Colby does. Maybe because she can relate to the feeling, only instead of through a camera, she feels it through pen and paper.

“I’m officially stealing you from Zac,” I declare as we take our seats. Her laughter comes more easily now and I can tell she’s letting her guard down around me too.

“I’m telling him you said that,” a deep voice comes from behind us, making us both jump.

Torryn shoves Xander, pushing past him to take her seat. “I thought babysitters were supposed to be nice, so why are you such an asshole?” she asks him .

This is why I love her. She doesn’t give as good as she gets, she gives better.

Her and Isla take their usual seats and I lead Colby down the row in front of them. It makes it easier to talk to everyone rather than all sitting in a line. Xander usually sits with me, but today he takes a seat on Tor’s other side. I pretend it doesn’t sting.

“Aren’t the babysitting jokes getting old?” he grumbles.

I trade looks with Tor and we both shake our heads, but I don’t say anything, letting her be the one to taunt him back. He’d probably ignore me again anyways.

“You think you’d be in a better mood hanging out with four pretty girls.”

He rolls his eyes, but doesn’t say anything back, his eyes never landing on mine.

The game seems to go on forever with the tension weighing on me every second that stupid idiot lurks behind me. His presence looming over my ability to have a good time. I don’t know if we say a single word to each other, but when he comes back from concessions with Torryn he hands me a plate overflowing with nachos and a large cherry coke.

Talk about mixed signals. Nachos have never been so depressing.

At least, the game is one full of action and good plays. I barely have any time to dwell on my inner thoughts when our butts barely even hit the seats, we’re too busy cheering for the Wolves who are dominating on the ice.

If I didn’t already know Tor was in love with Baylor, I would with the way she cheers for him after his goal. I cheer for my brothers, but she lights up at her man’s success.

Isla has Baylor’s polaroid camera and she takes more photos of all of us like it has become our game ritual. I’m pretty sure their house must be overflowing with polaroids at this point. Not that I’m one to complain. I love not being the only one pointing a camera in people’s faces.

I barely lift my camera in the direction of the ice, knowing we aren’t close enough to get the kind of action shots I strive for, but I do get plenty of candids of the crowd and each of my friends. There are a few of Torryn I know I’ll be sending to Isla for her to add to her evidence of love book she plans on using to convince Torryn. I’m not sure it’ll be necessary anymore though. They’re figuring it out, slowly but surely.

Deciding to get a couple more shots before putting my camera away, I turn around to where Xander is giving Torryn a hard time about her room. I wasn’t really surprised to hear about him moving into their place. I’ve never been, but a hockey house makes the most sense and he’s already started to bond with the whole crew there.

Xander turns in my direction, his eyes meeting mine through the lens and I swear they darken. A fire starts low in my belly and I hit the shutter-release with almost no thought, too lost in the ocean depths of his eyes. Desire pierces me through my camera and I know I didn’t imagine anything in that bathroom and that might be the very worst realization I could ever have.

Annoying, impulsive, and stubborn Xander Channing is everything I shouldn’t want. Even if he does make my heart beat faster and his touch leaves an impression on more than just my skin. Even if he can spark more desire with one look than all the other boys who have ever attempted. None of that can matter when I can’t have him.

I can’t make myself look at the moment I just captured on my camera. Somehow I know it’ll be one of the best photos I’ve ever taken, and one that is no doubt going to haunt me.

There’s no use in even denying it any longer, I have a crush on my brother’s stupid best friend .

It’s the most stupid and pointless and borderline delusional thing I’ve ever done, but here we are.

I turn my head to Colby and ask her what her middle name is, anything to distract myself from the realization that has fractured my mind in ways that would be embarrassing if anyone could read it.

I really hope sparkly Mormon vampires don’t exist.

“Camila,” she answers, confused at the random question, but I snap my fingers together.

“Got it,” I answer, and her look of confusion quickly turns to one of concern. She’s definitely starting to regret being my friend and we’re really only on day one. Too late now, I’m sticking to her like white on rice. Especially because internally, I am, in fact, having a meltdown that may lead to bangs. Or a bob. Neither of which I have the bone structure to pull off.

“Cece,” I explain. “Your new nickname that definitely doesn’t remind you of the boy who used to jerk off underneath the bleachers at the high school football game.”

She bursts out laughing, her head thrown back and her entire body shaking. Torryn sticks her head between the two of us, “I’m going to need a story time.”

Colby is wiping tears from her eyes, and I can’t stop smiling because no matter how much weird I keep throwing at her, she keeps rolling with it. Opening up a bit more with each moment, as if me being myself is helping her be herself too.

If only the whole night could go so well. But all good things must come to an end.

I just wish it didn’t feel like my fault.