10. OLIVIA

CHAPTER 10

OLIVIA

F riends forever, my ass .

An unrequited crush on a best friend is a sweet little way to package what essentially is ulterior motives.

I had the hots for the guy who was my best friend for years. It turned me into a chicken shit who needed years to gather her nerve to confess, at the risk of losing his friendship if things got too awkward. Then it became a self-fulfilling prophecy. Last week, I gathered a lifetime's worth of nerve to challenge him to kiss me—and he did.

And all that still changed nothing. Friendzoned again.

I accept my fate now. Fully. And yes, it's taken me perhaps too many wine coolers, one of which I'm sipping right now. And maybe I've also soaked my pillow through from crying a few nights this week.

But I get it. There's no way B-heart-O is happening, ever. That dream is finito. It'll take some time for my heart to catch up to what my head now understands—especially because I have to see his pretty face all semester—but it'll get there. Even if I have to gaslight myself into not feeling like this is a second breakup in a row.

If not, I'll always have my ten thousand Instagram followers.

I sniff and suck wine through a straw at the same time, which is not the sole extent of my multitasking. I'm sitting in the living room couch, editing a video on my phone that I'll upload tomorrow. I'm doing a series where I whip up a quick and healthy recipe, including allergen modifications in the captions, to the tune of some heavy metal. It's funnier because I keep a deadpanned, almost arrogant expression on my face as I record. You'd think Beethoven is playing in the background.

My account has been active ever since I started college, but it's really taken off after chopping my hair off and playing the music I actually like. I've gained half of my followers in the past two months alone.

And one of them is Brooklyn. Now that he's unblocked from my life, he's spent the past five days liking every damn video and giving me commentary on the side. His favorite so far has been the strawberry and date smoothie, and I don't know if it's because he has a sweet tooth or because the background song is one of our faves from Memphis May Fire.

The straw makes that gurgling sound that means I've reached the end of my wine cooler, and even though it's only five thirty in the afternoon, I consider getting another one. Or maybe switching to something that won't get me plastered on an empty stomach.

I have my head buried in the fridge when my roommates arrive together.

"Um, hi, Liv. How are you feeling, sweetie?" Dee's tone is so careful, it weirds me out enough that I abandon the quest.

Closing the fridge, I mutter, "Fine? What's going on?"

She and Mina exchange a glance and Mina sighs in relief. "Okay, at least she sounds more human now. "

" What ?" I scrunch up my face.

Dee toes off her sneakers and drops her messenger bag by the door before joining me in the kitchen. She goes straight for the cereal. Dry. Like a monster. "Well, you've been kinda weird this week. Unresponsive."

"Catatonic, more like." Mina's eyes zero in on the wine cooler still clutched in my hand. "And also you single-handedly went through our entire wine stash."

"Oh." I toss the empty container in the trash and push my hair away from my face. "The start of the semester was rough. That's all."

"Wanna talk about it?" Dee asks between crunchy mouthfuls.

Maybe I should. Fessing up might relieve some of the burden. But I know I'm the one acting like a brat, so I don't know. I don't want to get set straight quite yet. I want to wallow for a bit longer. Maybe ten more years.

"Actually, I just don't want to think about it."

"Fair." She goes back to crunching.

"Hmm." Mina narrows her eyes at me, obviously dying of curiosity. But she surprises me by saying, "What you need is a change in your routine to really distract you from whatever this is that you're gonna tell us all about later."

I snort. "What do you have in mind?"

She folds her arms. "Get dressed to find out."

"I am dressed." I motion at my sweats.

"In something that is more chic than hobo, please."

I turn to Dee. "Do you know what she's planning?"

"No, but whatever it is, I'm in."

I frown. "I'm not sure I like this."

"Just trust me."

Those are famous last words for a reason. And an hour later—because that's how long it takes for Mina to approve of my outfit—I try to cling to the car door while Mina uses her entire weight to pull me toward the St. Cloud hockey arena.

"Nope! Not gonna happen."

"It'll be fun, I promise."

"I hate hockey and you all know it."

"And yet you know almost more about it than Dee."

The alluded stands placidly off the side and says, "Well, she's the sister of two hockey legends, so…"

"Mina, I don't—oof."

My words are drowned by the blow. I land partially on her, one of her knees digging into my butt cheek, my elbow knocking the wind out of her.

This is my chance to escape her evil crutches. I roll to the side and push up on all fours. But I'm not even able to get on my feet before Dee stands in front of me, crouched down ready to check me against the car. She plays defense and is clearly on Mina's side, so she definitely would.

Slowly, I stand up and raise my hands. As if they were marching me into prison and not to the hockey arena, Dee grabs me by one arm and Mina by the other. If Dee isn't playing, it obviously means that tonight is some Bolts game. We're two weeks from the opening of the season, which must mean this is a pre-season game.

We walk into the premises and the smell of popcorn assaults my senses, making my stomach grumble like a lion. I mutter, "If you're gonna kidnap me, at least have the decency to feed me."

"Fine." Mina shrugs. "Dee, convey our guest of honor to our seats while I get us some snacks."

"Yes, ma'am." Dee promptly obeys by pushing me toward one of the doors down to the stands.

And down we awkwardly shuffle through the steps. And down some more. The ice is getting dangerously close. "Hmm, don't tell me we have front row seats. "

"Sure do!" Dee beams up at me from a rung below. "It took pulling some strings, but we got them."

I make another attempt to escape, but there's no way I could possibly out-maneuver an elite hockey athlete. She may look cute and sweet on the outside, but Dee's made of solid muscle. Like someone else I know. Someone I'm dreading to see.

Yet, the second my behind is parked on what apparently is my seat, my eyes immediately dart around looking for blue jerseys with grey and white details. But the ice is devoid of any players yet.

Funny how relief and disappointment can mix so well in someone's gut, huh?

This is why I don't like hockey. It can bring you up and down faster than a rollercoaster. Like when you're six years old, watching your older sister skate up the ice like she's a superhero, and then she gets checked so hard that her spine breaks and she doesn't get up. Or like when your older brother and your best friend are still obsessed with the game after that, even though they saw the accident too. Like that.

My knee starts bouncing. Every time I watch a game, I spend the whole time praying that no one gets hurt too badly, which sucks any fun out of it. For the year and change when I shut Brooke out of my life, I still checked the news after games to make sure he was fine. I do the same for my brother and my brother-in-law in the pros. Thankfully I don't have to keep tabs on Luz anymore now that she's officially retired from playing. But somehow I can't escape this damn game.

"Okay, I got salted popcorn for the hostage, salted caramel for the athlete, and buttered for me. And my purse is full of soda and water bottles. Grab what you want," Mina announces as the shuffling of the line begins and I end up sandwiched between them. Mina sits on my left and starts passing goodies along .

Corn is thankfully a safe food for me, and my roommates know very well that I can't do dairy. Even if tonight sucks, I at least get a free popcorn and Coke out of it.

"Okay, can someone please tell me what we're doing here now?"

Dee motions at Mina. "Please, do the honors."

"Very well." My other roommate turns her hair behind her ears, dyed platinum blonde and styled in waves. "Back at the party that eventually led to the breakup, Dee and I noticed how Brooklyn Tatum stood up for you."

It takes me a moment to realize she's talking about the breakup with my ex boyfriend , not the one with my ex best friend .

Mina continues, "You never told us why and well, we know how hard all of this has been for you, so we didn't want to press. Until now."

I clutch at my popcorn tighter. My heart rate goes from normal to full steam. "Why now?"

"Here's where Dee comes in."

We turn to her. "Jenny, who is Maggie's roommate, said she saw you and Brooklyn all chummy chummy in class. And Maggie told me at practice two days ago."

"Who the heck is Maggie?" I ask, doing my best to not screech with the horror I feel on the inside.

Dee gives me a look. "Um, our goalie."

"Don't give me that look, I'm not your groupie."

"The point is," Mina says, drawing my attention back to her. "It looks like you have found the perfect target for your rebound. And since he's the new captain of the Thunder Bolts, what better chance to get his attention than cheering for him tonight?"

I stare at the board across from me for a moment, without really registering anything.

Closing my eyes, I mumble, "I know you guys are trying to help, but this is entirely the opposite of that. "

"What do you mean?"

The floodgates open—and by that, I mean players from both teams emerge onto the ice. I raise my popcorn bucket to hide behind it, but it's not like I'm the only person sitting in the stands. The arena has been filling up with people steadily, and I'd say at least seventy percent of them are girls. No way Brooke will spot me. I should be safe.

"It's not like that between Brooke and I," I say, ignoring how Mina repeats Brooke in a little squeal. Squirming, I decide the time to fess up is now. "Remember the guy I told you about in freshman year?"

Dee's brow furrows. "The childhood best friend you were going to confess to, who turned out to be a total jerkface?"

"Yep." I suck in a deep breath. "That guy's Brooklyn Tatum."

Mina mutters. "Oh, shit."

We sit in silence for a good moment, even as the audience cheers at the Bolts circling the ice and warming up. I grab a handful of popcorn and eat it like a squirrel, trying to store my weight's worth of food in my cheeks.

And of course, that's when a Bolts player abruptly brakes right in front of us, raining sludge against the glass boards.

Slowly the sludge slides down and my eyes fall on the C stitched on the chest of his jersey. I lift my eyes up.

Brooke rests an arm against the glass to lean forward. He's wearing that grin I've always found annoying, and even more now that I know what his lips feel like against mine.

And his eyes twinkle like damn fairy lights.

"Well, well, well," Brooke says, loud enough that we can hear him through the glass and over the noise. "If it isn't my best friend. Did you come to watch me?"

I recover enough to spit out, " Former best friend. And no, I was dragged under duress."

"Sure." The word drips with sarcasm and his smirk deepens. " But it's okay, I'll make it worth your while." He winks before skating away.

Winks .

At. Me.

Pretty sure my friends know they could fry an egg on my face right now.

"I feel like I'm missing more details," Mina says on the verge of laughter.

Sliding lower onto my seat, I launch on the epic tale of my old unrequited crush.