Page 51 of Don't Leave
“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong? You’ve been all mopey since you came back from the library,” she asksas we sit in the bleachers, waiting for the game to get under way.
Unable to stand the way she continues to eyeball me, I mutter, “No.” I keep my gaze trained on the Zamboni as it slowly sweeps water over the ice to smooth out all the rough patches as my mind tumbles back to the ride home with Cole.
None of this would be happening if I’d found my own table to work at. I wouldn’t be sitting here in the stands with a pit the size of Texas at the bottom of my belly, feeling as if Cole and I are on the precipice of something terrible.
Brooklyn refuses to take the hint. “No, there’s nothing wrong. Or no, you’re going to keep it all to yourself and not tell me what’s going on.”
“I’ll go with what’s behind door number two, please.”
Before she can respond, the Zamboni disappears into a garage type door at the far end of the rink and both teams jump onto the ice for warm-ups. My gaze fastens onto Cole as hestretches, making wide circles. There must be something in my eyes that clues Brooklyn in on what’s going on.
“I should have known this had something to do with Cole.”
My shoulders collapse in defeat. “I don’t want to talk about it. There’s too much going on and I just need some time to figure out what I’m going to do.”
She throws her hands up like I’m the one who’s breaking some kind of friendship code by not spilling my guts. Does that really make me a lousy friend?
I have no idea.
Maybe it does.
“Far be it for me to try and help,” she grumbles.
For the first time, my gaze flickers toward her as I reach out and grab hold of her hand. “I’m sorry.” I huff out a breath. “You and I are quite the pair, aren’t we?”
Her attention is drawn to Austin as he circles the ice with the team. A small frown tugs at the corners of her lips as she watches him. “I suppose we are.”
We fall into silence for a long stretch of minutes before she nudges my shoulder and whispers, “Why is that couple over there scoping you out? It’s kind of weird.”
I glance down a few rows only for my gaze to collide with Dr. Thompson’s. I shouldn’t be surprised to find her and Thomas here.
For some reason, it never occurred to me that I could run into them again.
I shift on the hard bench and try to keep my tone nonchalant. “That’s Cole’s parents.”
The longer I stare, the more my throat feels as if it’s closing, and my heart beats an uncomfortable tattoo against my chest.
“Who’s the girl with them? Is that his sister?” With a frown, she pauses. “Does he have a sister?”
I rip my gaze away from Dr. Thompson only to have it land on Jackie’s. Thankfully, she’s oblivious to my presence. Instead, there’s a smile on her face as she talks with Thomas as if they’ve known each other forever.
Now that I think about it, they probably have.
For some reason, the fact that Jackie is sitting with his parents has a giant lump settling in the middle of my throat. Not only did she and Cole date for two years, but they were best friends for more than a decade.
As I stare at the three of them, it occurs to me that I’ll never have that kind of history with Cole. I’ll never feel like I’m part of his family the way Jackie apparently does. There are too many obstacles standing in our way. That realization slams into me like a ton of bricks, knocking the air from my lungs until it feels like I can’t breathe.
“That’s Cole’s ex-girlfriend.” My voice sounds thin and reedy, as if it’s traveling from a great distance.
Brooklyn’s widened gaze darts to me before resettling on Jackie again.
“If she’s the ex, then why is she sitting with them?”
It takes effort to force the words from my lips. “She and Cole grew up together. She’s more like a family friend.” It’s yet another reminder that I don’t belong.
Did Cole invite her to the game?
That thought is enough to have my stomach twisting into tiny knots.
