Page 38 of False Start
When the jam ends, Harvey skates in the same direction as Reese, disappearing behind the locker room door. Mo and Venice eye each other, no words passing between them, but the look of concern on both their faces is enough to make the ongoing jam nearly meaningless. A small tilt of Mo’s chin in the direction of the locker room is all Venice Witch needs to discreetly skate away from the bench.
I stand to follow, still clutching the ice around my swollen wrist.
The pull of my shirt’s collar around my neck throws my center of gravity off, almost causing me to fall, but Mo’s hand on my back catches me. I turn to see them shaking their head in a warning, but I disregard them, waving them off and following behind Venice.
She’s already in the locker room by the time I getthrough the door, reaching for Harvey in an attempt to pull her off Reese Ender. The swollen red lump around Reese’s eye lets me know Harvey’s already hit her at least once. She breaks out of Venice’s hold and throws her fist into Reese Ender’s face again, this time right under the chin.
“Harvey, that’s enough.” Venice holds her back by the arms, Harvey’s chest heaving hard with each breath.
Reese Ender scatters herself back up onto her skates, legs wobbly and unsturdy as she skates away from Harvey. “Wait.” She commands her to stop right before me. “Apologize to our jammer.”
“What?” Reese doesn’t look at me.
“Say you’re sorry.” Harvey gives her the same look she’s been dishing out to me all week, but for some reason, it feels far more lethal when directed at her.
“S-sorry,” Reese stutters out as she flies past me, holding her face behind her hands. Only when the door bounces back the third time does Venice let Harvey go, looking back and forth between the two of us before slowly backing up.
“I’m… gonna go let Mo know you’re good,” she says, her voice filled with pure uncertainty. “You’re good, right, Cat?”
Harvey cuts me a look, that same vicious one that turns my spine to gelatin. Her gaze stays fixed on mine. “Yeah. I’m good.”
Venice skates in reverse until her back forces the locker room door to swing, giving us just a peek of the crowded rink behind her. “You sure?” She checks again, but this time, she’s looking at me for confirmation.
I nod silently.
It feels like minutes before the door stops swinging fromher exit, but it’s only then that I can break away from staring at Harvey’s face to notice the smaller details.
Like her knuckles.
“You’re bleeding.” I’m at her side in less than three strides, lifting her hand up to take a closer look at the torn skin.
“Didn’t you see the other guy?” She gives me a goofy grin, filled with energy that feels so familiar, so natural between us, and yet completely out of reach.
My stomach is a nervous mess of butterflies any time I look at her.
She can barely stand to be around me.
Yet, here she is, settling a score onmybehalf. What the hell is this?
The laugh bubbles out of me awkwardly, just like anything else in my life. “Like I said, I can’t quite tell if you hate me or?—”
She cuts me a look again. “Or what, princess?” The command in her tone forces me to shrink.
“You hit her for me,” I whisper, just in case we aren’t alone, though I know damn well it’s just us.
“She was playing dirty, and she hurt you.” She says the last bit through clenched teeth, her nostrils flaring, like thinking about it again is enough to piss her off.
“You hurt me too.” I shrug, biting back a nervous smile.
“It’s different,” she says sharply.
I harden my gaze and challenge her, “Why? Because you think you’re justified in your hatred of me?”
“It’s just different. She’s not part ofthis.” Harvey gestures between the two of us.
I don’t know whatthisis.
I don’t think she does either.
