Page 27 of Rules

I don’t need anybody to save me.

I’ll do it on my own.

I’m fine on my own.

Chapter Ten

MAX

NOW

I look at Brook’s back as she runs away, her head bowed down, dark mass of hair falling over and concealing her face.

Always hiding.

Always trying to stay invisible.

Helplessly, I look between her retreating form and the open door to the counselor’s office. I want to go after her, but Miss Jenkins already saw me so there is no escaping our meeting.

“Good morning, Max.” She offers a weak smile.

“Morning.” I mumble back the greeting, my eyes straying once again to the hallway, although I know Brook is long gone. “Is she okay?”

She looks at the hallway, pensive. “I hope so. Some people are determined to do it all alone. Brook is one of them.” Pushing back whatever happened in this office just moments before, she looks at me, her lips spreading into an inviting smile. “Come on in.”

Reluctantly, I follow her inside, closing the door behind me.

“You wanted to see me?” I ask, squeezing my body into a small chair.

Miss Jenkins sits opposite of me, folding her hands on the stack of files that are sitting on her desk.

“Yes, I did.” She smiles kindly, but I don’t let that smile fool me. She called me in here for a reason, and whatever that reason is, I’m sure I’m not going to like it. “Your coach reached out to me not that long ago with concern for your grades.”

My blood turns to ice.

Shit. I told him I’d take care of it. Itookcare of it. Didn’t I?

My Adam’s apple bobs as I swallow. “It’s been taken care of. I passed my make-up tests.”

“Mhmm…” My palms grow sweaty as she looks through the files until she finally pulls one out. “Did you decide on which college you’re going to?”

“I sent out some applications,” I say non-committally.

I tried doing what my last school counselor told me to do—leave my horizons open and apply to different schools. Both division one and two.

Money wasn’t an issue for my family, but only division one colleges with a great hockey team could bring me one step closer to my goal—playing in the NHL.

And those schools, the ones I was hoping to get into, wanted the whole package.

There is still the Ice Globe Tournament.

I could only hope that my stellar performance on the ice will outweigh my shitty academic record and they’ll take a chance on me.

“Anywhere specific you’d like to go?”

“As long as they have a great hockey program…” I leave the rest of the sentence hanging in the air. I don’t think she wants to know I don’t give a damn about school and just want to keep playing.

She nods, her eyes scanning through what I suppose is my file.

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