Love and Other Chemistry ♡ Trevor Zegras

26 | Milly

Part Twenty Six:
A Little Last Time

A week passed.

I spent a lot of it avoiding people, and burying myself under my blankets in the darkness of my bedroom. Alex had texted a handful of times, telling me how sorry he was, and how he hoped we could get past it, but I wasn't so sure. The image burned in the back of my mind, and the sickness that came with it as the feelings of his slender fingers touched me and his lips worked in time with my own.

I felt guilty.

I felt ashamed.

Monday morning had been interesting. I had done a good job of avoiding Trevor, just as he had done a good job of avoiding me. Jack had bags under his eyes and a yellowing bruise on the bone of his jaw. He avoided me, too.

But I guess, we were all sort of avoiding each other.

Tuesday had gone the same, or, I thought it might have. I wouldn't know. I spent the day in bed, hiding away from the world and trying my best to ignore the aching I felt in my chest and the lingering guilt that still resided in my very bones.

By Thursday morning I was feeling a little better, I figured I would try to talk to Trevor today, maybe catch him alone and see if he'd want to get milkshakes after school--or perhaps I'd just text him, and wait for a response. Maybe, I'd get a glimpse at him from across the hall, his smile bright but not completely real, and his laughter forced as one of his senior year friends told a joke. It felt like slow motion as I walked past him that day, my heart the only sound in the world other then the horrible, obnoxious ringing in my ears that reminded me that I had made a huge mistake.

He glanced at me from the corner of his eyes, a deep sadness written on his profile that I probably wouldn't have noticed once upon a time ago, but I knew him a little better now. There was a moment of hopefulness as our gazes connected, and my heart hammered painfully in my chest. But the moment was over too soon, and Trevor continued down the hallway, in the opposite direction to me, a smile still plastered on his face.

I clutched my books to my chest, wishing I could rewind time and pause it exactly where things had gone wrong.

Then never press play again.

Friday was the hardest day.

It was the final day for the seniors, which meant it was broadcasted all over the school. A huge festival, a massive celebration. Classes were cancelled for the afternoon as students bid their goodbyes, and honestly, I just wanted to go home.

We were made to attend the senior assembly, to watch as the principle called each students name and shook their hand, congratulating them on their achievements and acknowledging their pathways to the rest of us.

Trevor Zegras.

The University of Michigan.

Full Hockey Scholarship. On track for the USA Development Program and eventually, the NHL.

A fleeting smile graced my lips, though it was gone before I could even process that it was there.

To be honest, I was just glad that my date with Jack hadn't been spread around the school. Usually, by now, at least someone had found out, and the news would be everywhere. I guess I was one of the lucky ones.

Friday afternoon was the very last game for the seniors of the hockey team. I don't know who they were playing, I didn't really care. I wasn't even going to go, but, in the end, I still had one of Trevor's jerseys, his last name printed on the back with his number in large, bold, italics across the shoulders. It was mostly white with black sleeves and yellow stripes near my torso. It would have been fitted on him in his chest guard, however, it swam on me.