Page 40 of Stick It
Except they didn’t need proof last time, either.
“Exactly!” Wren points at me like I’ve made a groundbreaking discovery. “There’s no proof. When people realize that, they’ll get bored and move on to the next bit of hot goss.”
My nose scrunches, lips pressed flat as I stare intently at my knees.
Wren must catch my look of skepticism. “Unless…” she hedges. “Oh my God. Did you—did yousleepwith the coach?!”
My head whips up so fast I feel something twinge in my neck. “What? No. NO! Of course not!” I look at her with such horror and revulsion that she takes a small step back.
“Okay, okay.” She holds her hands up in mock surrender. “Just checking. But then, what was that face about?”
Sinking my teeth into my bottom lip, my gaze jumps back and forth between her eyes.
“I’ve…lived through this before,” I confess. When her brows dip lower over her eyes, I explain, “The same rumor was started at my old school.”
Her mouth drops open.
I shake my head, a fresh wave of tears burning the backs of my eyes. “Why do men do this? A woman does better than them, and they automatically assume we must be sleeping our way to the top. It’s…infuriating.” It’s so much more than that. I feel so much that I can’t even put it into words. Anger. Resentment. Hurt. Exhaustion.
I’m tired. I’m so fucking tired of working my hardest, doing my best, and being told my achievements are only possible because I must have spread my legs for the right person.
“It’s disgusting,” Wren spits. “Pathetic. Weak.” Droppingonto the sofa beside me, she moves straight into my space, cuddling up beside me.
Feeling completely defeated, I sigh, leaning into her. I always have some fight left in me, even when I’ve had to scrape the bottom of the barrel to find it, but now…I’m empty.
“I feel like I’m having déjà vu,” I admit in a small voice that sounds nothing like me. “I’m in my own version ofGroundhog Day, doomed to repeat the same fragile male masculinity bullshit over and over until I lose my mind.”
Wren shifts on the sofa so I can see her face, see the determination etched into her expression. “Those lies say more about them than they do about you.”
I snort. “Tell that to the rest of NSU who believed their bullshit and taunted me with it at every opportunity.”
Squeezing my arm, she says empathically, “Butyouknow the truth. And your skills on the ice speak for themselves.”
I nod. I know she’s right, to an extent. But rumors matter—false or not.
“If scouts or teams got wind of any of it, I’d never get drafted. I could lose any opportunity I have to play professionally. At even working?—”
“Hey!” Wren cuts off my ramble. “Let’s not spiral out of control, yeah? This is a stupid college rumor spread at a party. Most of the people there were drinking and probably don’t even remember who they hooked up with, never mind what one douche canoe said.”
One side of my lips quirks in the shadow of a smile. Still, I shake my head. “What if this is only the beginning—again? It only got worse last time until I was forced to leave?—”
“Stop!” Wren says firmly, holding up a hand. “That’s not going to happen. You know why?”
There’s such determination on her face, such fire in her eyes.
Ishake my head, biting my lip.
“Because this time, you have me.”
She sits up straighter, and I don’t know if it’s her simple statement or the confidence in her posture, but the weight of it hits me like a slap. I’ve never had anyone before. Not someone I could actually talk to or confide in. Someone who would have my back.
Leaning in, I wrap my arm around her shoulders. “Thank you,” I murmur into her ear.
“Good, now that that’s settled, we need hot chocolate.”
“We do?”
She looks at me like I’m crazy. “Duh. Hot chocolate fixes boy trouble like ice cream fixes cramps.”
