25. Kennedy

The airin the rink is electric, filled with the sharp, metallic scent of ice and the excited buzz of the crowd. Shane’s team is playing a home game, and I’ve come to watch, despite my better judgment. Since my father’s birthday weekend, Shane has been… different with me. If I had to choose one word to describe it, I’d say distant.

I sit in my usual cold, hard seat, my hands tucked into my coat pockets, trying to keep warm. The cheers and shouts of the crowd are deafening, but my mind is elsewhere.

I keep thinking about Shane, about the tangled mess that is our relationship. I try to push the thoughts away, focusing on the game, but it’s no use. My heart feels heavy, and I can’t shake the sense of impending doom.

As the game progresses, I notice a group of students standing in a seating section nearby, talking animatedly. In the center of them is Lisa. She looks perfect as usual in a matching sweatsuit that accentuates her curves and a cropped-down jacket that looks like it cost a million bucks. It’s no secret that she has set her sights on Shane. Since the two of us have never publicly admitted that we’re anything more than friends, she still believes that she has a shot with him. Hell, maybe she does.

I don’t want to give her the satisfaction of eavesdropping, but their voices carry over the noise of the crowd, and I catch snippets of their conversation.

“Yeah, Shane’s been dealing with a lot of crap lately,” one of the guys in the group says, his voice loud and confident. “That girl he’s been hanging around with, Kennedy, she’s been a real bitch.”

My stomach drops, and I strain to hear more, my pulse quickening.

“Oh, she’s been a piece of the work from the start,” Lisa says, her tone dismissive. “I don’t get it, she’s not even that pretty.”

“Yeah, I heard she’s always at the ice house being super clingy,” the guy replies. “Always up in his business, freaking out over every little thing. I heard the rest of the team doesn’t want her there but Shane just doesn’t know how to cut the bitch loose.”

“Yeah, she might go crazy on him or something,” a different girl adds. “Last thing Shane needs is some stalker fucking up the season.”

Anger and hurt surge through me, hot and overwhelming. Where are they getting their information? Is Shane saying these things about me? Is that how the team sees me?

“Well, I know her. She’s just insecure,” Lisa says. “I mean, Shane’s a hockey star and she’s a nobody. Who is she if she isn’t hanging with Shane Sullivan?”

“So true,” the rest of them agree, laughing at my expense.

My hands clench into fists inside my pockets, my nails digging into my palms. The words sting, each one a dagger to my heart. I feel exposed and betrayed. Is this really what Shane thinks of me? That I’m some clingy, insecure girl who needs him?

“Do you think they’re fucking?” someone asks.

“Absolutely not,” Lisa answers. “Shane can do so much better than her,” she says, her voice dripping with disdain.

“Yeah, he needs someone who can handle his lifestyle, not someone who’s going to freak out every time he talks to another girl. He wouldn’t ever be serious with someone like her.”

“I heard their parents are fucking.”

“Oh, damn.”

“What!?” Lisa reacts. “That explains so much then. He’s babysitting his sad little stepsister.”

I can’t listen anymore. I stand up abruptly, my vision blurring with tears. I need to get out of here, away from the rink, away from these people, away from this suffocating sense of betrayal.

I push my way through the crowd, not caring if I bump into people or if they stare at me. I just need to escape. As I reach the exit, I hear someone calling my name, but I don’t turn around. I can’t. If I do, I’ll fall apart.

And I don’t cry in public.

I burst through the doors and into the warm night air, my breath coming in ragged gasps. Shit, I can’t stop myself. The tears are flowing freely now, hot and relentless. How could Shane do this to me? He’s been talking to someone about all of my business. About me.

I find a familiar bench outside the rink and collapse onto it, burying my face in my hands. My mind is a whirlwind of pain and confusion.

This is my fucking fault.

When you let your guard down, this is what happens, Kennedy. You know better. No one ever has your back. You have to do a better job of protecting yourself, idiot.

“Kennedy!” a voice calls out, and I look up to see Shane running towards me, his face etched with worry.

I’m not sure how long I’ve been sitting here but the game must be over if he’s outside.

I stand up, my body trembling with anger. “Stay away from me, Shane,” I spit out, my voice shaking.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” he asks, his eyes wide with concern.

“Like you don’t know,” I snap, the words laced with venom. “I heard what people are saying about me in there. You’ve been talking about me behind my back, telling them about our parents, calling me clingy and jealous. Do you know they think I’m some sort of stepsister stalker to you? Is that what you really think of me?”

Shane’s face pales, and he shakes his head vehemently. “You know me, Kennedy. I swear, I never said those things. My friends must have misunderstood or twisted my words. I would never talk about you like that.”

“Twisted your words?” My head cocks to the side. “So you were talking about me?”

“Not like that.”

“You’ve made me look like a fool in front of everyone!”

“I’m not sure what you heard but you have to believe me,” Shane pleads, stepping closer. “I would never intentionally hurt you. My friends don’t understand our relationship. They’re just trying to protect me, but they’re wrong.”

“How do they know about our parents?”

“I told Bass and Neo about them. That’s it.”

“Why?”

“Our parents’ relationship is my business too, Kennedy. Did you ever think that I needed to talk about it with someone too?”

I step back, putting more distance between us. “This isn’t just about what you told them. It’s about you. I’ve always felt like you never truly protected me, that you never respected me. The girls walking around half naked in the house who you’ve clearly fucked before. The girls in the stands who you constantly flirt with. And now, hearing this... it just confirms what I already knew to be true. Whatever this was between us is done.”

“Whatever this was?” he echoes back in pained tones. “This isn’t high school, Kennedy. I’m not John. I’m not your parents. All I’ve ever done is care for you and protect you since the day we fucking met!”

“So I’ve heard,” I retort.

“Not like that,” he exhales roughly, running his hands down his face. “Look…” his voice breaks, and I can see the anguish in his eyes. At least I think it’s anguish. “Don’t let a few uninformed comments from people who don’t matter come between us. We can fix this.”

My heart aches at his words, torn between wanting to believe him and the overwhelming fear of getting hurt again.

But once again, fear wins.

Fear is now my protector and the only thing I can trust, so I tell him unceremoniously, “There’s nothing left to fix.”

And I walk away.