ROMEO | 18+

2.

"Jesus fucking Christ," her sister mumbles. "Let me know when you're done engorging your coffee. Maybe you'll be in a better mood after seven doses of caffeine."

As a loud sigh flies past her lips, Isla jabs Nora in the ribs. "You're an idiot."

"Yeah, I've missed you too," she replies, evident sarcasm laced to her tone.

In a swift motion, the group of girls seated next to them stands to their feet. One of them taps onto the glass, trying to gain a player's attention—unsuccessfully so—as he skates right past her.

When he slows down and abruptly stops, ice sprays around him like minuscule snowflakes drizzling onto frozen water.

"Puck bunnies are pathetic," Isla huffs, eyeing one of the girls shrugging her jumper off to reveal a jersey with the name "Hayes" on the back of it.

A loud laugh rises from Nora's throat. Chewing onto her snack, she shakes her head in disbelief at her sister's comment. "You'd be a puck bunny, too, if you attended more games."

"You're wrong about that," Isla mutters, bringing her cup of coffee to her lips and blowing the steam away.

"You're my big sis', and even though you're avoiding everything that includes our family, I still know you. And I know when you're eye-fucking hockey players."

Isla snorts softly, but doesn't deny the obvious fact. Before moving to the United States, Isla used to love watch Luca practice. She'd spend hours sitting there and listen to the sounds of pucks getting hit. She'd watch her brother and his teammates do something they love. And sometimes, she'd join them on the rink after practice to skate.

She grew up learning about hockey, and even played it, too. From the youngest age, she was introduced to the world of sports—so, of course she'd be into hockey players.

The last time she attended a hockey game was...years ago. But she has made a promise to herself to support Luca, because he has always given her unconditional love and support.

Trying to conceal the way her eyes threaten to water at the mere thought of those ancient memories, she takes her phone out from her purse.

"Seriously?" Nora scoffs, leaning in to observe Isla scroll through her Instagram feed. "You're just going to sit there and be on your phone the whole fucking time?"

"Give me a break, No'," Isla snarls. "It's already a good thing that I'm here."

"I suppose, yeah," the blonde says after a few seconds of silence.

Being here whilst hungover and spending her time on social medias whilst loud chatter echoes around isn't Isla's favourite. But looking at something else than at the busy ice rink is the only way to avoid her brother's gaze. He looks at her, observes her, as if surveying her every move, watching her to see if she is ever going to leave.

"Who are they playing against?" Isla asks in a mumble.

"Harvard."

"Oh."

Her sister gives a nudge with her elbow. "Look at you being all interested."

She raises her brows as she double taps on the most recent post of some formula 1 driver. "Look at me pretending to be interested."