Pucked Over (Pucked 3)

This right here is what I’m talking about. This is the kind of crap Benji pulls, putting it all on me. It wasn’t always this way. He was a great boyfriend for the first four years—doting, kind, sweet. Sometimes a little too much of all of those things. We were solid until senior year; then there were a couple of bumps and short breakups. Nothing terrible.

Things got rocky after high school. I went to university on a full scholarship instead of pursuing my dream. He went to college to get a diploma in loafing. It was eye-opening to be in classes with other guys who expressed an interest in me. Benji didn’t like it; he has insecurity issues. I’ve realized he used to project them on me by constantly telling me I wasn’t good enough. The jabs were subtle at first, but by the end he’d blatantly put me down.

I don’t know why I stayed for so long. Maybe I was too scared to have no one other than Sunny, since most of our friends left Guelph after high school. Maybe I was scared I’d end up like my mom, with a revolving door of loser boyfriends. Regardless, it’s a cycle that needs to stay broken, for good this time.

“I’m not asking to be forgiven for kissing Randy.”

“Fine. Then I won’t ask to be forgiven for screwing around on you, either.”

“Screwing around on me? Benji, we’re not together. You can screw anyone you damn well please. It’s none of my business.”

He’s silent for the rest of the ride—stewing, I guess. I hold my knapsack on my lap, wishing I’d gone with my gut and taken the bus, even if it meant rushing to get to the rink.

Benji pulls up to the front of the arena.

“Thanks for the ride.”

“So that’s it? That’s all you’ve got to say?” As his anger expands, so does his volume.

“I don’t know what else you want me to say. We haven’t spoken in two months apart from the time you came to the coffee shop with that girl you apparently work with. We’ve said all the things we need to say to each other over the years. We should be good at this point, don’t you think?”

“Why can’t you admit you made a mistake with the meathead? Why are you so intent on becoming your mom?”

And just like that, he makes me feel two inches tall. I take a deep breath, steeling myself against the insults. “Don’t bring my mom into this.”

“Why? Because you don’t like the truth?”

I don’t engage; I don’t have enough time to battle it out. And I don’t want to. “Do you have my stuff with you?”

“Stuff?”

“My things? From your house?”

“I didn’t think you were gonna be playing this game with me, Lily. I thought we were gonna work things out.”

“Never mind. I gotta go.”

I reach for the door handle, and Benji grabs my wrist.

“Let go of me.”

He loosens his grip. “Come on, Lily. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. You know I didn’t mean that. I miss you. I’m worried about you.”

My phone rings. I slip it out of my pocket. It’s five-thirty. It takes a good ten minutes to get changed, and I still need to warm up before the kids arrive for their lesson at six.

“Don’t answer that, Lily.”

I’ve about had it with being told what I should and shouldn’t do. The screen lights up, the name flashing its alert. Of all the people to be calling at this moment. I wrench my arm out of Benji’s grip, open the door, and get jerked back by the seatbelt. I slam my finger on the button and tumble out of the car, landing on my ass in a puddle. It hasn’t even been raining, so I’m not sure where the damn wet spot came from. “Thanks again for the ride.”

“Come on, Li—”

I hit the green button and bring the phone to my ear, meeting Benji’s annoyed gaze. “Hi, Randy.” I slam the door, pop up from the ground, and start hoofing it toward the building.

That was probably a really bad idea. Nothing like poking a hornet’s nest when you’re sitting right beside the hornet. Benji lays on the horn and rolls down the window. I start jogging, not interested in hearing his vitriol spew. My heart crashes around in my chest as I push through the arena doors, leaving Benji to fume.

“Hey, luscious. How’s it goin’?”

“Hey. Good. Great. How ’bout you?” I’m breathless, so each word comes out on a pant.

“Excellent. Did I catch you at a bad time?”

“Huh. What? No. Nope. Not a bad time.” The unpleasant altercation with Benji is immediately forgotten—okay, not forgotten, but made much less worse by the low, deep timbre of Randy’s voice. It makes my girl parts tingle like they’ve been dipped in mouthwash.