The Score (Sequel to The Exchange)

Chapter 54- Rough, Tough Cream Puff

I took my chance.

I got a 4.0 GPA for the spring semester, and I was high on life.

And a shit ton of caffeine, alcohol, and romance, but mostly life.

I deserved as much money as the school was willing to give me, and somebody would have to pry the dollars out of my cold, dead hands for me not to take advantage of it.

I loved success for the sake of success, but there was nothing like winning and feeling the weight of tens of thousands of dollars being stuffed right back into my pocket. Plus, all that money made my ass look bigger. I was just killing two birds with one stone.

Home (well, American home) for the summer, poor Viktor was caught between his boy and his girl, his old tradition and his new forever.

Matt never moved Viktor's bed out of his room, but I wanted Viktor in mine with me. And Arti, who would never wear out her welcome.

He picked Matt for some fucking reason.

But despite the loss he practically stabbed me in the back with, Viktor and I were completely obsessed with each other, just like we always had been.

Tara and I had begrudgingly struck up a friendship too. She never really did much besides sit in her cage and plot eight different ways to assassinate people, but that was a common interest of ours.

Wikipedia said that tarantulas could live up to twenty years, and I figured it was the safest course of action to befriend her, so she wouldn't come after me in my sleep.

Friends didn't kill friends usually, and Tara wasn't a mouse or a man, so I wasn't too concerned about that.

On a late June evening, Viktor and I sat in the basement, watching the horror program called the NHL Draft.

He slouched on the couch, his butt on the edge and his shoulders at the top of the back of the couch, hugging a pillow tightly to his chest as he stared at the TV screen. His blue eyes reddened with each moment that he didn't dare to blink.

Noah Trainer. First overall pick of the Buffalo Sabres.

"You okay?" I asked, watching Viktor rather than the TV.

He nodded slowly but didn't look in my direction.

"Buffalo sucks anyway. They'll never be relevant as long as Noah's on that shit show of a team," I said.

"I hope he has all the success in the world. I really do," Viktor said, his tone flat and unchanging.

"That's at least nice of you to say. I hope he gets wrecked on his first shift of his first game."

"Don't be bitter. It's not his fault that he's there, and we're here."

"Yeah, but he was kind of a douche about it."

"Matt never liked Noah either. He thought he was faker than a three-dollar bill."

I laughed. People could call us Jaynes a lot of things, but we were pretty fucking real.

"It's just not fair. You did everything right, we tried so hard, and it was all for nothing. I'm sorry, Amanda," Viktor said. "This could have been our time too, and I ruined it."

"Don't ever apologize for this. We're done feeling sorry for ourselves," I said. "We're going to move on to next season. Yeah, you can't be drafted after this, but it's not the end of the world. Show those motherfuckers what they missed out on, a damn good hockey player with an even better attitude. Someone will give you a contract if you fuck shit up, I'm sure."