Chapter 230 Another Game, Another Loss

Chapter 230 Another Game, Another Loss
POV: Silver Preston
I do not go to the game. Cannot face it. Cannot sit in those stands and watch Eli play after everything that has happened.
But I hear about it anyway. Everyone hears about it.
Yale lost to Brown 5-2. Their fourth straight loss. Their worst streak in three seasons.
The campus is buzzing with it by Sunday morning. I hear snippets of conversation as I walk to the dining hall with Riley. Students clustered in groups, phones out, reading articles and box scores.
"Hayes was a mess out there--"
"Three turnovers in the first period alone--"
"Scouts left at halftime. Didn't even stay for the whole game--"
I keep my head down and walk faster.
In the dining hall, it is worse. The hockey team sits at their usual table, subdued and tense. Liam has his head in his hands. A few other players look shell-shocked. No sign of Eli.
"Don't look," Riley says quietly, steering me toward a different section.
But I have already seen. Already registered the empty seat where Eli usually sits. The team's defeated posture. The weight of failure hanging over them like a cloud.
We get food and find a corner table. I push scrambled eggs around my plate without eating.
"You need to eat something," Riley says.
"I'm not hungry."
"You haven't eaten since yesterday afternoon." Her voice is gentle but firm. "You're going to make yourself sick."
I take a bite of toast just to make her stop. It tastes like cardboard.
My phone buzzes. I ignore it. It has been buzzing all morning. Messages from people I barely know asking if it is true that Eli and I broke up. Asking what happened. Asking for details they have no right to.
I turned off notifications an hour ago. But I can still feel the phantom vibrations.
"The team's falling apart," Riley says quietly, looking over at the hockey table. "Liam texted me last night. Said Eli barely said two words to anyone during the game. Just went through the motions."
"That's not my problem."
"Isn't it though?" Her expression is sympathetic. "You two broke up Friday night. Saturday they have their worst game of the season. That's not a coincidence."
"He made his choices. I made mine." I force down another bite of toast. "Whatever happens to the team isn't my responsibility."
"I didn't say it was. I'm just saying--" Riley pauses, choosing words carefully. "You both hurt each other. And now you're both suffering the consequences. Along with everyone else around you."
I set down my toast.
"What do you want me to do? Go apologize? Beg him to take me back so his hockey game improves?"
"No. I want you to be honest with yourself about what you actually want." She leans forward. "Do you want to be broken up? Is this really what you want?"
"I want him to have been honest with me. I want to not feel like an afterthought in his life. I want to matter."
"You do matter. He turned down Europe."
"So he says." My voice is bitter. "But Carroway seemed pretty sure there were more lies. More secrets."
"Carroway is a manipulator who admitted to targeting you both out of revenge." Riley's voice is sharper now. "Why are you believing him over Eli?"
"Because Eli has been lying too. Maybe not about everything, but about enough." I push my plate away. "And I don't know what's real anymore."
We sit in silence. Around us, the dining hall buzzes with noise. Normal Sunday morning chaos. People living their lives, dealing with their regular problems.
I envy them.
"I need to go," I say abruptly, standing up.
"Where?"
"Library." A lie. I just need to be anywhere but here, surrounded by reminders of Eli and hockey and everything that is broken.
Riley looks like she wants to argue but just nods.
"Text me if you need anything."
I grab my bag and leave. Walk out of the dining hall and straight into Jordan.
"Hey." He steadies me with both hands. "You okay?"
"Fine."
"You look like hell."
"Thanks. Very comforting." But I manage a weak smile.
Jordan falls into step beside me.
"Heard about the game last night. Brutal."
"Yeah."
"Hayes was off. Way off. Coach benched him for the third period." He glances at me. "Any chance that has to do with you two?"
I do not answer.
"Right. None of my business." Jordan is quiet for a moment. "For what it's worth, the team's pissed at him. Think he's distracted."
"Is he?"
"Throwing games? No. Distracted? Definitely." He stops walking, turns to face me. "Look, I don't know what happened between you two. Don't need to know. But whatever it is, it's affecting more than just you guys."
"So I've heard."
"The team needs their captain. And right now, Hayes is about as useful as a cardboard cutout." His expression is serious. "If you two are done, fine. But he needs to get his head in the game. Scouts are losing interest. Draft stock is tanking. Another few losses like last night and he's looking at third round at best."
"Not my problem."
"Maybe not. But you might want to decide if you want to be the reason his career falls apart." His voice is not accusatory. Just factual. "Because that's the story people are telling. That you're the distraction that ruined Yale hockey's season."
I feel cold.
"People are blaming me?"
"Some are. Not everyone. But enough." He shrugs. "Campus is looking for someone to blame. And you're an easy target."
"I didn't do anything wrong," I say quietly.
"I know that. You know that. But public opinion doesn't care about facts." Jordan squeezes my shoulder gently. "Just be careful. Things are going to get ugly if the team keeps losing."
He walks away, leaving me standing alone on the path.
I pull out my phone. Dozens of unread messages. I scroll through them.
ur the reason yale hockey is falling apart. hope ur happy.
gold digger using Hayes for attention. he's better off without u.
skaters dont belong with hockey players anyway. stay in ur lane.
I delete them. But they keep coming. More messages. More accusations. More hate from people who do not know me, do not know what happened, do not care about the truth.
I block the numbers. But what good does that do?
My phone rings. Americus.
"Have you seen the athletic blog?" Her voice is tight.
"No. Why?"
"They posted an article about the game. About Eli's performance. About you." A pause. "It's not good."
I pull up the blog on my phone. Find the article.
Yale Hockey's Downward Spiral: Has Captain Hayes Lost His Edge?
I skim it. Read phrases that make my stomach turn.
Hayes has been noticeably distracted since his relationship with scandal-plagued figure skater Silver Preston became public...
Sources close to the team suggest Preston has become a divisive presence, with some teammates questioning Hayes's priorities...
With NHL scouts walking out of Saturday's game early, Hayes's draft prospects are dimming...
"They're blaming me," I say numbly.
"They're being assholes," Americus corrects. "Don't read the comments. Trust me."
Too late. I am already scrolling down.
she's using him for attention. ruined his season for her drama. he should've picked hockey over some washed-up skater.
I close the browser. Set my phone down. Try to breathe.
This is spiraling. Fast.
"Silver?" Americus's voice pulls me back. "You still there?"
"Yeah."
"Ignore it. All of it. These people don't know anything."
"They know enough." I start walking again. Nowhere in particular. Just moving. "They know the team is losing. They know Eli and I broke up. They know I'm the common denominator."
"Correlation isn't causation."
"Tell that to the internet." I feel exhausted. Bone-deep tired. "I should just leave. Transfer somewhere else. Let Eli have his hockey career back."
"Don't you dare." Her voice is fierce. "You have every right to be here. This is not your fault."
"Isn't it? If I hadn't gotten involved with him--"
"Then he'd still be dealing with whatever internal mess he's dealing with. You're not the problem, Silver. You're just the easy scapegoat."
Maybe. But being the scapegoat still hurts.
I end up at the library. Find a corner on the third floor where no one will bother me. Pull out my laptop.
I should work on assignments. Read for class. Do literally anything productive.
Instead I pull up more articles about the game. Read more analysis about Eli's poor performance. More speculation about his relationship status affecting his play.
One article includes quotes from anonymous teammates.
He's not the same guy. Used to be all business, now he's constantly checking his phone. It's affecting team morale.
We need our captain focused. Right now, he's not.
If he can't get his personal life under control, maybe he shouldn't be wearing the C.
I close my laptop. Put my head down on the desk.
This is her fault. Maybe not directly, but I am part of it. Part of the equation that is destroying Eli's season.
My phone buzzes. I almost do not check it.
Eli: Can we talk? Please. I know you're probably hearing things about the game. I can explain.
Silver: what's there to explain? you're distracted. the team is suffering. i'm getting blamed.
Eli: I know. I'm sorry. None of this is your fault.
Silver: isn't it? we got involved, everything fell apart. maybe everyone's right. maybe i'm the problem.
Eli: You're not the problem. I am. I let everything get into my head. Let the pressure and the gossip and the fear mess with my focus. That's on me, not you.
Silver: doesn't change the result.
Eli: No. But it changes who's responsible. This is my failure, Silver. Not yours. Don't let them make you believe otherwise.
I stare at the message. At his attempt to take the blame. To protect me even now, when we are broken up and everything is a mess.
Silver: your team hates me. the scouts think i'm a distraction. the internet thinks i'm using you. how do we come back from that?
The dots appear. Disappear. Appear again.
Eli: I don't know. But I know I don't want to lose you. Not like this. Not because of other people's opinions.
Silver: you already lost me. we broke up, remember?
Eli: Because I was an idiot who didn't communicate. Who tried to handle everything alone. Who made you feel like you didn't matter. But you do matter. You're the only thing that matters.
My vision blurs. I blink hard.
Silver: pretty words don't fix this.
Eli: I know. But maybe actions can. Give me a chance to prove I mean it. That you're not a distraction or a mistake or anything people are saying. That you're the best thing that's happened to me.
Silver: even if it costs you your career?
The response comes immediately.
Eli: Even then.
I set my phone down. Stare at it like it might bite me.
He is willing to sacrifice his hockey career. His draft prospects. Everything he has worked for.
For me.
But what does that solve? He would still resent me eventually for what he gave up. I would still feel guilty for being the reason his dreams died.
My phone buzzes again. Not Eli this time.
Coach Morrison: Ms. Preston, we need to talk. My office, 3 PM today. It's about Eli.
My stomach drops.
The coach wants to meet with me. About Eli. About the team's performance. About everything that is falling apart.
This cannot be good.
I type back: I'll be there.
Then I sit in the library and watch the clock tick toward 3 PM, dreading every minute.