Lydia
Annoyed by this entire ordeal I take out my phone as soon as the door closes behind us. I need to let Ellie know what happened. She worries way too much about me.
I leave the outer office and turn down the hallway outside, typing a quick message.
Something blocks my path and I stop and look up at Wes.
"What?" I ask.
"What do you mean 'what'? We need to figure out what to do."
I raise an eyebrow. "I'm going to class. What you do is up to you. I don't think there's a 'we' here."
I finish the text and hit send while I step around the hockey player.
He falls into step next to me. "Aren't you worried about getting kicked out?"
I shrug. I'm not about to let him know the inner workings of my feelings.
"This is important to me. You may not care, but this is my future." He's sounding more and more agitated.
"You sound like a lot of fun," I say sarcastically and roll my eyes.
"It's my life. Hockey is my life. All I've ever wanted is to play professionally." He shakes his head. "I can't believe my career depends on a fucking party princess."
Party princess? I glance over at him and he looks almost distraught.
He wipes a hand over his face. "Just don't ruin this for me."
"You really need to relax. Maybe you should try getting laid?"
There's a slight pause. Tension builds in the air and I wonder if I've taken it too far. I know I have when my back slams into the wall and he pins my shoulders back. His face is so close to mine I can smell his toothpaste.
"Hey," I say. "Let go of me."
"You may be a spoiled brat, but some of us have goals and dreams. I don't give a fuck if you want to fuck up your own life. But you won't stand in my way. You will not be the one to ruin my chances."
"Fuck off." I raise my hands and push at his chest. It's immovable. "You don't know me."
"I know as much as I need to." He takes a step closer. His hands trail down my arms. I shove at him again, but I make the mistake of inhaling his scent.
My heart beats loudly and my mouth is dry. Being this close to him is... strange. He's such an asshole.
"Let. Go. Off. Me."
He drops his hands, but doesn't step away.
"You could have gotten me kicked off the team with your little prank. Do you even realize how serious it was? I have a reputation to uphold."
"You're not seriously telling me you've never done anything bad before." His eyes are stormy dark caramel, just before it burns. And I almost hold my breath as I wait for the answer.
"That's not what I'm saying." His voice has softened a bit. I blink as I realize his eyes are on my lips and shove him back again. This time, he takes a step away.
"Maybe that's your problem," I say and adjust my bag. Maybe you need to get into trouble more often. Then you wouldn't have that massive stick up your ass."
I'm just about to walk away when his hands hit the wall on either side of me and he looms over me.
"I'm going to say this one more time, because you don't seem to understand. I will not have my future ruined by you or by anyone else. Tomorrow, you will show up, on time, at the Den, and you will do what it takes to keep the dean happy."
I look up at him, raise myself slightly to my toes, and lower my voice to a whisper. "Or what?"
The split second of surprise is almost hidden by an expression of annoyance as he leans in close to my ear.
"You don't want to find out."
He pushes away and takes long steps down the hallway. I inhale and try to calm down. That man is infuriating. My hands are practically shaking from anger. Who does he think he is? And he just assumes I'd flake on him? Like I don't have goals. Or dreams.
I shake my head and watch him disappear around a corner. He's wrong. I have dreams. At least I used to.
I spend the next couple of hours in a daze. Ellie texts me back, demanding more details of the meeting, but I ignore her. I'll tell her later.
When I meet up with Trisha and Pres, I've almost convinced myself it was all in my head.
"Well?" Trisha asks when I reach them. They're standing outside of the library where Pres has been studying with her tutor. It's a beautiful fall day. The summer warmth is still lingering, luring people outside to sit on the grass or toss a frisbee around.
"It's fine," I say. "I just have to help out at the Den twice a week."
"Help out how?" Pres wrinkles her nose.
"At the store. Selling things, I guess?" I shrug nonchalantly.
"For how long?"
"A couple of months."
"All of that just because you were at the Den after hours?" Trisha asks in disbelief.
"At least they didn't kick me out." I try to sound as if I don't care.
"Do..." Trisha bites her lip. "Do you need help with that?"
"I wish. They're making me work with Wesley Porter." I grimace. "He's such a boy scout, he'd probably go running to the dean if I got any help."
"Look," Trisha says, "I feel bad you have to do this because of me. It wasn't even that big of a deal."
"I can't believe I have to see him twice a week." I groan. "You know he practically threatened me afterwards."
"Did he do something?" Pres asks with a concerned look.
I bite the inside of my lip and take a moment before I shake my head. "No, of course not. He's just an ass."
"Oh, did I tell you daddy is buying another hotel?" Pres changes the subject. I guess we were done with my thing.
"Where?" Trisha asks.
Pres' dad buys hotels and upgrades them. Sometimes, he offers to fly Pres and us out there so we can try it out. We use all the amenities and Pres reports back how we're treated and if there's something we didn't like. Sometimes we even find things that he can improve.
"Antigua, I think," Pres says.
The conversation turns to the shopping and weather of the island and I try to participate, but my mind keeps wandering to Wes and how I'm going to have to put up with him for two months. Maybe we'll be able to stay out of each other's way?
I try to remember the store at the Den. I've only been to the Den at game night, but I think it's open to the public most days.
The store sells hockey equipment and souvenirs. And I think they also rent out skates from there. I'm not sure. But I guess soon I'll be well acquainted with it.
I sigh and turn my attention back to the conversation about beaches and waterfronts.