Equivalent

20 | Hardvik's

Lila

Although Cambridge's loss is a horrible hit to our ego, seeing the boys jumping on each other after the time ran out was the type of happiness you see in movies. They were screaming louder than the crowd had been before the buzzer went off.

As we pile out of the stadium, the cold air slaps my skin. At first, it feels like it's raining, but when I open my eyes to the gray sky, I see white flakes flutter to the ground disintegrating into the gravel. The damp air is cold and windy, indicating mother nature's tempestuous personality since the day started as warm and sunny. 

Everyone's running to their cars with hoods stretched over their heads. Those who didn't prepare for the weather, like me, stole B's popcorn tray and held it over my head in an effort to protect my hair. It doesn't really help because the weather begins to pick up as we all run across the parking lot to our school bus shuttle. 

By the time I get to the bus, the popcorn bucket is soggy and falling apart. As I climb up the steps trying not to slip on the wet residue left from everyone's shoes, I slide into a three-seater. When Okuna and B push me against the window, I groan. 

"You guys are ruining my shoes," I say, trying to lean over my knees to see if there is a stain on the leather. If there was one thing I liked more than my car Patrice, it was my sneakers. They were like my babies, considering I used to save all my money to buy them in high school.

The pair don't show me any attention as they comfortably move into the seat, and I feel B's feet brush across mine. My eyes narrow at her, and even though she has this innocent look crossed over her expression, I know she did it on purpose.

"Someone wise once told me that finding love in materialistic things is unhealthy," B shrugs, and a smile laces her lips. I roll my eyes at the statement.

"Oh really B? Who told you that? Was it boy number one or boy number 200?" Okuna cackles at her own joke, and I join her. "Sounds pretty materialistic to me."

"Hey!" B yells, pouting. "I find joy in boys, sue me."

"No baby, they find joy in being in you," Okuna shakes her head, and B smirks.

"I find joy in that too," A grin takes over her face, and I'm slapping a hand over my mouth to contain my surprise. I shouldn't be as taken aback as I am because B was always like this. Finding flings everywhere she went, but it wasn't because she got off on having boys chase her. The reasons that fed her trauma go far deeper than any boy. 

"Listen, would you guys rather me find addiction in drugs or sex?" She says, looking from Okuna to me.

"You're right," I say. "Plus, I could get on that wagon, considering I haven't been laid in ages."

"Trust me, we know," B replies, and I blink at her with a deadpanned look.

"Fuck you."

"It's true! Maybe if you just get in bed with one of those hunky hockey players, you'll feel a burden of stress lifted off your shoulders," B suggests, as if it is the easiest thing on the planet to complete. 

"Why only hockey players? There's an endless supply of sexy men in all sports," Okuna wiggles her brows, and I find it irksome that the pair have such a levitating interest in my sex life now. 

Our conversation gets cut short when the bus comes to a halt at our stop. We pile out and dash across the sidewalk, skipping over a puddle of slush to get to our dorms. The snow wasn't sticking; instead, it was melting, and I wasn't ready for all the black ice I was going to wake up to.