Fuck my life.
“Hey,” Heath says as I walk out of my room Monday morning. His eyes are barely open as he chugs a protein drink. His girlfriend, Ginny, sits on a stool next to him with her head on the counter.
“‘Morning,” she says.
I tug the end of her braid as I go by. Ginny is Adam’s little sister, and since he and I’ve been rooming together for the past four years, Ginny’s like a kid sister to me.
Adam appears next, slinking out of his room and shutting the door quietly behind him. Reagan stayed over last night, as she generally does now. Both my roommates are in serious relationships, which is bizarre since I was the only one in a serious relationship until a few months ago. Now I’m dodging phone calls from my ex and blundering my way through being single. Life is weird.
He grunts something that might be good morning as he heads to the kitchen to make oatmeal. I’m too tired to even think about eating. The sun isn’t up yet, and we have a skills practice in thirty minutes.
I’m not complaining. I’m stoked we get to play hockey another week, but two days of celebrating looks like it’s taken its toll on all of us.
My stomach growls. Obviously, it doesn’t have the same issue with the time that I do. I’m grabbing orange juice from the fridge when Maverick walks through the front door.
“Goooood morning,” he calls, sounding way more chipper than the rest of us. When I turn around, he laughs. “Nice shiner. You and Sienna match. Adorable.”
I’m too tired to come up with a witty comeback. But it’s a new day. And today can’t possibly be any worse than yesterday.
4
Sienna
“It looks like my three-year-old niece did your eye makeup.” Josie watches me from the doorway of our shared bathroom while I dab concealer on the black and yellow under my eye.
“I can’t tell if I’m making it better or worse.”
“Less eye shadow. You aren’t fooling anyone.” She reaches around me for her toothbrush.
She’s right. I look ridiculous. I wipe off my makeup and start over with just my usual basics of foundation and mascara.
“Does it hurt?” my roommate asks as we’re leaving our dorm.
“Only if I touch it.”
She moves her hand up like she’s going to poke it, and I slap her hand away.
With a laugh, she asks, “Did he at least apologize?”
Last night when Josie got home, I was already asleep, so I gave her the short version of yesterday’s events when she woke up and saw my black eye. I left out the part where he asked me out. Or sort of asked me out? An apology date where I’m limping and have a black eye does not sound super romantic.
“About a dozen times.”
“I can think of worse ways to get a black eye. Rhett Rauthruss is some serious eye candy. I heard he’s single now, too.”
“Aren’t they all?” I place a hand on my chest. “Commitment scares me. I’m just going to fuck everything that moves.”
She laughs again. Josie has a great laugh. The kind that you can’t help but smile when you hear it. “You sound like Elias. How is he?”
“Great,” I say and prepare to fill her in on the latest of my best friend’s shenanigans, but outside we meet up with more girls on the team headed to practice.
“Oh my gosh, Sienna! What happened to your eye?” Olivia asks when she sees me. I give a very abbreviated version as we jog the few blocks to the arena in the dark. My left hip and knee are both bruised and sore, but otherwise, I seem to have survived the collision without any injuries.
At the rink, I’m forced to retell the story again while we warm up in the hallway waiting for Coach. She arrives, coffee in hand and a clipboard in the other. “Before we get on the ice, take a look at the updated schedule.” She holds up the clipboard. “I printed it out, but you’ll find it in our shared calendar too.”
I can tell by the grumbling of the girls closest to her that the changes aren’t good.
“We’re sharing the ice with the hockey team?” Josie finally squeaks when we make our way to the front. Her tone is skeptical and not altogether thrilled. Same, girl, same.
There’s complaining all around. My teammates shout out questions to Coach, wondering how this will possibly work. Others are pouting that it isn’t fair.
“We still get the same amount of ice time, but we’ll need to share for our morning practice. And I’ve negotiated for an additional hour in the afternoons for those of you who want it. It’s the first time in the school’s history that the hockey team has gotten this far. We are going to support them the same way we want them to support us.”
“Yeah, right,” someone mumbles. None of us qualified for nationals this year which might make us a touch more bitter than we’d otherwise be.
Coach gives us a look that says, it is what it is, and we take the ice. “We’ll make the best of it.” She smiles. “And they’re here, so let’s get to work.”
We turn and watch as the hockey team files out next to us. When Rhett spots me, his eyes widen, and a gloved hand goes to his eye. His black eye. He pulls on his helmet with a broody look, and I can’t help but smile. I had no idea he got hurt in the fall too. I feel a tiny bit bad even though he was the one that ran me over.
“Sienna, a minute,” Coach calls.
I skate over to the bench where she waits for me. “I heard you took a tumble on the ice last night. How are you feeling?”
“Fine. I’m bruised but no injuries.”
“You really shouldn’t be on the ice by yourself.”
“Technically, I wasn’t by myself,” I mutter to myself.
“I don’t want to put restrictions on you that I don’t require of the other girls, but with your heart condition, I need you to make sure there is someone in the building that knows what to do any time you step on the ice. Okay?”
I nod, feeling guilty and resenting it. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Good. Now, let’s get you ready for the Desert Cup.”
It’s hard to concentrate with the hockey guys on the ice. And not just for me. Coach gives up on continually yelling “Focus” halfway through practice and divides us up into groups to work on skills. Coach Meyers is having the same issue. Jordan and another guy trip over each other while staring at Josie doing a flying camel spin.
“Well, this was a great idea,” I say to Olivia.
"I am loving this. Really peps up my morning. Although, I wish I'd worn something less wrinkled." She holds the fabric up to her nose. "And smelly."
I lean forward. “It's a little musty,” I admit. “But I guarantee you smell better than them.”
We glance back down at the guys. Sweat drips off them.
“He’s cute,” she says.
“Who?” I play dumb, but I know exactly who she’s talking about. Rhett skates toward the center of the ice and gets back into line, staring at me the entire time.
“Your twin, Rhett.”
Sure, he’s cute. And he knows it.
We work through skills, making the best of our time on the ice, even if it’s only half of our usual space. After I complete my turn, I skate to the back of the line. Rhett’s standing nearby, also at the back of his respective line.