Back to Me (Carolina Rebels 1)

The moment that last note begins to fade, my mind turns to hockey and my job. It’s like a cue for my body to start pumping adrenaline. The crowd roars as we prepared for the center ice face-off. Admittedly, there’s a lot of green, but there seems to be an equal amount of navy as well. It’s a fast game right off the bat with us going from one end to the other and back, chasing whoever has the puck.

Unfortunately, our speed isn’t very fast, especially not compared to the opposition. I take a seat on the bench since my shift has ended and two seconds later, I see Savage scrambling to get back into position. It takes him a second too long. The puck bounces, wobbling from side to side and dances across the red line.

Down one-zero.

Not a great start.

THE GAME DIDN’T start well and it continues to go poorly. The other team is just better. Noah doesn’t really deserve his nickname tonight. He’s getting rammed way more than the other guys. There’s sure to be some bruises popping up tomorrow.

During the second intermission, I get a call from an unfortunately familiar number.

Vance.

Seeing his number makes me close my eyes and sigh.

“You okay?” I hear Sylvia ask.

“Yeah, I just need to take this.” I stand and walk into the hallway. “Hello.”

“Hey,” he says.

“What do you want, Vance?”

“I feel terrible.”

“You should,” I curtly respond. “You didn’t need to call and tell me that.”

He sighs. It’s a sigh I know well. Funny how he can go from feeling terrible to being agitated by me. “I’m trying to be nice.”

“I don’t need you to be nice, Vance. You broke up with me simply because I was going through the hardest time in my entire life at that point. Then, when I came to tell you something you should know, you called me a liar because you were so far up your own ass that I just had to be lying. You should feel terrible and guilty and downright disgusted with yourself. I’m sorry if I can’t manage to conjure any sympathy for you and your actions.”

“Maybe I was wrong—”

“Maybe?”

“But you should’ve told me what happened instead of having me hunt you down to find out.”

My spine straightens and I wish he was here, so I could punch him. There’s a touch of hysteria in my tone from the fury beginning to consume me. “I was supposed to tell you about something you didn’t even think was real? Are you kidding me? As far as you were concerned, there was no baby, so why would I tell you that you got your fucking wish?”

“I didn’t wish the baby didn’t exist,” he says, but I interrupt him again.

“Bull. Shit. You said you didn’t want anything to do with my fake baby.” The last part comes out in a vehement whisper because som

eone is walking by.

“I didn’t mean that.”

“Now, Vance, now you don’t mean it. You sure as hell meant it when you packed my bags and kicked me out. I’m wish I could say I’m sorry that you grew a conscience, but I’m not. I hope the guilt eats you alive and swallows you whole. You deserve it.” I hang up and walk back to Sylvia before I have a chance to feel guilty about it.

The third period has started, and we’re down four to one. At least the guys seem to have their legs under them now. I don’t know how much good it’ll do them, but anything can happen.

“Are you okay?” Sylvia asks.

I give her a false smile. “I’m fine.”

She studies me for a moment before resuming the topic we were discussing. “So, a group of us is planning a charity fashion show for the end of January. Do you want to be involved? It’ll be on a Saturday night. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, but you can be as involved as you want to be.”

My first instinct is to say no. I should be ashamed of myself. What kind of person says no to helping out with a charity event? But if it is on a Saturday, then I don’t have to worry about interference with my job. In the back of my mind, I’m also thinking of how I don’t know what I’ll be doing then. However, Sylvia said I don’t have to get too involved.