Page 120 of The Puckable Playbook

I almost wish I didn’t.

The moment I think it, I crumple the thought up and throw it away, but the echo of it is still there. The selfish thought bleeds through my body until I feel dead inside.

What if I do only want him to see me? The crowd didn’t make the video for him. The people at the game tonight only supported him once. I’ve been by his side longer.

Maybe that’s the difference between Zaiah and me. I want to be seen by one person, and he wants the whole world to see him.

Coach puts out his cigarette against the side of the building, smoking all of it right down in the short time we’ve been talking.

He winks at me, spraying a mist of cologne over himself and throwing a mint in his mouth before he walks back inside.

What we’ll do to hide our defects from people when we should be throwing them out there and letting people choose. Take me or leave me. I am who I am, and I’m not changing.

So what if Coach wants to smoke from time to time? Or if I feel neglected? Right or wrong, it’s who we are.

I turn to walk away, heading toward Knightley. Pulling out my phone, I start a text to Zaiah telling him to go without me. I only get two words in when I stop, my feet hitting the pavement reluctantly. Is it duty that makes me want to turn back? To be the good girlfriend? Or maybe I want to leave because subconsciously, I want to punish him because he never celebrated my win with me.

“Len!”

Zaiah runs the few hundred feet I’d crossed within seconds. My name on his lips makes my eyes itch. Anger and jealousy rear up, and it’s not a good mix. Battling myself every step of the way twists my stomach, leaving me a confused mess.

“Hey.” He reaches for me, moving his fingers up my forearm. “I thought you were waiting for me? I’m going to drive, but if you don’t mind, can you drive back? I might want to drink.”

“Coach said not to.”

He shrugs. “I won’t have a lot.”

His business is his business. That’s the same thing I said to Coach.

A small grin crosses Zaiah’s face, and he moves a strand of my hair away from my cheek. When I don’t react, he tilts his head. “Something wrong?”

So many things. So many complicated things. It would be near impossible and exhausting to tell him every little thing I’m thinking right now. I’m even annoyed with myself, but I’m right about this. I don’t want to be anyone’s afterthought. “You never said anything about the article.”

Yes, he had a huge win tonight, but so did I. Is this how it’s always going to be? I can’t celebrate my wins because he’s too in his own head about his?

It shouldn’t be like that.

“The article was amazing. Look what it did!” He grabs my hands, face lighting up. “I think we made everyone hockey fans tonight.”

“We?”

“The team.”

I nod slowly. That they did. I got them there, but they pulled off an exciting one-sided win. Suddenly, I’m that little girl again, vying for my father’s attention. My nemesis was always hockey. Always.

“What if I told you that one of my articles went viral?”

“That’s amazing.” The smile stays on his face, but he isn’t buzzing like he is with hockey.

“Social media picked it up, and it’s been reposted a few hundred times.”

“Wow, Len. That’s great.”

“It’s spawned so many reactions.”

“Of course it did. Because you’re awesome.”

I bite my lip. “Zaiah, I’m talking about the article that came out tonight. You already knew it went viral.”

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