Page 17 of Unloved

“Oh yeah?”

“You’re incredible.”

I’ve heard those same words so many times, but the way she says them, they sound more genuine somehow. Like this isn’t about my body at all. Sex is easy to me; I’ve been a quick study since I was far too young. Hockey is eveneasier, and I’m better than most because I work hard beyond how much comes naturally to me. But outside of that? I’m… nothing. I’m a fucking failure at using my brain—anything beyond the physical is pointless for me to even attempt because I’m nothing when I’m not using my body.

But… this feels different.

“Thanks. Big hockey fan?”

“Sure.” She nods profusely. “Never been to a game, but I’m sure it’s amazing. I’ve seen videos. Very cool.”

I laugh because she looks confused and sympathetic all at once. Like she’s appeasing a kid who wants to talk about his obsession with dinosaurs. Something that makes my chest feel warm.

“Videos? Of who?”

“Just like top NHL plays and stuff. Or like if it’s on TV. They’re pretty amazing. I think Sidney Crosby is very handsome.”

I reach out boldly to tuck a curl behind her ear and spin my hand through her mass of ringlets. “You haven’t seen amazing yet, princess. Not till you see me play.”

It’s a fucking line, and probably one of my worst. And I watch her sink back a little as it has the opposite effect than I wanted it to.

“I’m gonna get in now.”

Rosalie is up and gone too quickly for her words to register before my eyes shoot wide and I jump up to follow her. She climbs the side ladder onto the top of the tall storage shed at the edge of the cement pathway around the pool’s edge. The frat calls it a “high dive” where the more adventurous partygoers like to flip and dive off—but more than one person has broken a limb misjudging their jump.

My stomach lurches as I realize exactly what she’s about to do.

I race over to stand in front of her, heart in my throat for reasons I don’t want to think about.

“Hey, princess—whatcha doing?” I ask, voice shaking slightly.

“I wanna do something fun.”

“Talking was fun. You want to play a game?”

“I want to be someone else,” she blurts, and her eyes start to well. I want the stars back, the bright honeyed hazel eyes that look at everything with wonder. “I want to be like you.”

“No, you don’t,” I laugh sharply.

“I’m not brave or cool or anything fun, I’m just… I’m careful. I’m good, and it’s still not enough. I want to be more.”

“You can be whatever you want to be.”

Like my words have caused her physical pain, she shuts her eyes tightly. “I wish—” Her feet slip a little and my stomach somer-saults.

“Rosalie,” I bark. “Wait for me.” I flick my eyes around, noticing that we have an audience now, before walking to grab one of my shoes and yanking out the lace.

Fuck it. The shed is a bit taller than my reach, but if I can jump and latch on to it with my hand, I can pull myself up without taking my eyes off her to get to the ladder.

So I do, gritting my teeth at the sharp metal of the shed roof cutting my palms as I pull myself up to stand in front of her. I grab her by the waist like I’m a little worried she might try to jump anyway.

“What are you doing?” She sounds breathless, and I have to close my eyes not to let my imagination run away from me.

“If you’re jumping, I’m jumping.” I shrug.

“You are?”

“Why not?” I smile. “Unless you want to do it alone.”

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