Page 17 of Tangled in His Game

Chapter 9

IFURROW MY BROW ASI watch Victor skate past his opponent, shoving the guy out of the way. The game is almost over, but there are still some seconds left.

The crowd collectively holds their breaths as Victor hits the puck. It looks like the goalie will catch it, but then there’s a roar from the crowd. Victor has done it again, and Emberwell has won.

But as his team celebrates and hugs, Victor skates away from them. First he throws away his gloves and then tosses his helmet to someone. He strips off his jersey and some of his protective gear.

Under it all, he’s wearing a plain black shirt. He’s turned away from me and I think there’s the word “no” written on his back, but the crowd on the other side is acting weird. Some are laughing. Some are gasping in shock. Some are looking around them in confusion.

What the hell is going on?

Victor turns around, and my heart stops. An image of me that he must’ve taken when he was in my home is printed out on his shirt.

Right above my photo is a question in big white letters, “Victor, will you fuck me?”

I curse under my breath as people around me start whispering and staring at me. Everyone’s attention is on me now, and I wish I could disappear. I shouldn’t have picked a seat so close to the rink, but I wanted to see everything better.

How did Victor know I was going to be here? Maybe he didn’t, but he still wanted to embarrass me. Everyone has their phones out and I’m sure the whole thing will spread like wildfire.

Why? Why is he doing this to me?

I get to my feet and race for the exit, followed by people’s snickers and laughs. Someone even tries to trip me, but I hop over his foot. What the hell is wrong with people?

I burst into the hallway, and then I keep running until I’m as far away from the rink as possible. When I’m sure no one is around, I hide behind a wall and pull out my phone.

My heart is pounding, my cheeks heated. Nausea rises at the back of my throat, and it’s a wonder I don’t throw up. Images from the game are all over social media. Victor’s name is trending, and the photos of his shirt are everywhere. Some people even had the nerve to tag me in their mocking posts.

Couldn’t Victor have picked a better photo of me? He must’ve somehow taken it when I looked up right at him from the kitchen, which means he must’ve been in my parents’ bedroom in the darkness.

He was right there, staring at me and taking photos, and I had no fucking clue. Who knows what kind of photos he could’ve taken while he was in my house. I shudder just thinking about it.

Has he seen me naked too? I hope not. He couldn’t have entered the bathroom and I didn’t go out without any clothes on. But he could’ve seen me in my underwear. Maybe. If he was in the right place at the right time.

I bite down hard on my lip. Can I use the photo to prove that he was in my house? I don’t think so. My face is zoomed in, and I can recognize the blurry objects behind me, but that’s only because I know that’s the most likely place the photo was taken.

Victor is an idiot, but he’s smart about this. He just wants me to know that he was there, but I can’t really prove it.

I stare at the photo. My expression is weird because I must’ve looked up because I felt something moving in the darkness, but I ignored the feeling. And I was biting my lip then, so it seems as if I’m epically failing at making a seductive pose. People will look at that photo and assume I was really trying to make a move on Victor and he rejected me.

I’m still not sure if he’s doing it for more attention and popularity, or if he and his friends are doing everything in their power to get me out of their college because they think I don’t belong there.

It hurts.

It fucking hurts.

Every ugly comment. All the hate. The insults.

How will I even go back to Emberwell tomorrow? Walk the hallways while everyone believes Victor’s story? I hate him so much I want to punch something.

If only I’d recorded him when he met with that guy. It wouldn’t even matter if the packet contained drugs or not. I could’ve uploaded it somewhere and let people conclude whatever they wanted. No one seems to care or think that Victor is lying about me.

I need to make him confess the truth. Maybe I can get him to do it in private and secretly record him admitting everything.

I head back to the arena and duck my head as I pass by some students. It’s impossible to ignore their stupid comments about me, but I grit my teeth and keep going. I still have my staff pass, since no one has remembered to take it away from me, so I manage to sneak my way into the hallway with the locker rooms.

I lean against the wall, facing away from players as they leave while I pretend to be busy with my phone. Every now and then, I glance over my shoulder to see where Victor is. But as time passes and the hallway goes quiet, I furrow my brow.

Is it possible I missed him and he already left? Before anyone else? Or did he get in trouble with someone because of his shirt? I would be really happy if he did, but I somehow doubt it.

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