Chapter 24 Chapter Twenty-Four
Vanessa POV
The moment the buzzer sounded and the crowd erupted, I knew I had to get out of that rink.
It wasn't the noise that made me uncomfortable exactly,even though the screaming was deafening.
It was the chaos of everyone jumping to their feet, spilling drinks, hugging strangers. It made the space chaotic almost like the space was closing in on me.
It was also the fact that watching Danny score that goal,had left me as excited as everyone in the room.
My heart had leapt into my throat, stuttering at the realization that I'd been on my feet screaming along with everyone else without even realizing it.
I'd gotten caught up in it.
In him and in the excitement and the pure adrenaline of watching him do what he was born to do.
And that terrified me more than anything.
"We should go congratulate him!" Bean shouted over the noise, her face flushed with excitement.
"That was incredible! Did you see that shot?"
I had seen it.
I'd seen every second of it, from him crumbling to the floor after Marco jammed into him pushing him to the floor, but he had recovered almost immediately, faked left, cut right and released the puck into the net with a perfect strike.
“ Come on, Vanessa” Bean said tapping her furiously
"I need to go," I said, my voice barely audible over the celebration.
"What?" Bean leaned closer.
"I can't hear you!"
"I need to leave!" I said louder, already gathering my coat.
Bean's expression shifted from excitement to concern.
"Nessa, are you okay?"
"I'm fine. It's just—it's too much. The crowd, the noise, all of it." I was already moving toward the aisle, trying to push past celebrating fans.
"I just need some air."
"Okay, let me come with you—"
"No!" I said quickly, then softened my tone when I saw her hurt expression.
"Stay. Celebrate with Marco and the team. I just need a minute. I'll text you, okay?"
Bean hesitated, clearly torn between supporting me and wanting to celebrate with her boyfriend and his team.
"Are you sure?"
"I'm sure. Go." I managed a smile that probably looked more like a grimace.
"Tell Danny congratulations for me."
Before she could argue, I slipped into the crowd, letting the mass of bodies carry me toward the exit. People were still cheering, still chanting, still riding the high of victory.
While I felt like I was drowning in it.
The hallway was slightly better—less crowded, though still packed with people heading for the exits or toward the locker rooms. I kept my head down and moved as quickly as I could without actually running.
My phone buzzed in my pocket as I finally pushed through the doors into the cold November night. I pulled it out, expecting a text from Bean, but it was one Danny.
Danny: Did you see it? The goal?
My fingers trembled as I typed back.
Me: I saw it. You were amazing.
I meant it, he had been amazing. Watching him out there—the way he moved,—it was like watching someone speak a language they'd been born knowing.
Another message came through.
Danny: Where are you? I wanted to see you.
I looked back at the rink far behind me, the building lit up like a beacon with people streaming in and out.
I could go back in, find him and congratulate him properly. After all, I still needed to get my notebook.
But I couldn't make myself do it.
Me: I had to leave. It was too much. I'm sorry.
I hit send and immediately felt guilty. He'd just won the championship, had played the game of his life, and I was running away.
Again. Like I always did.
The parking lot was quieter, most people still inside celebrating or waiting to congratulate the team. I leaned against a lamppost, trying to catch my breath, and calm the racing of my heart.
What was wrong with me? Why couldn't I just be normal about this?
My phone buzzed again.
Danny: It's okay, I understand. Thank you for being there.
The kindness in his words made my eyes sting. He should be angry and very frustrated with me for constantly running away. But instead, he was thanking me.
Me: Congratulations, Danny. You deserved it.
I stared at my phone, waiting to see if he'd respond, three dots appeared over the screen and I held my breath.
Danny: Can I see you tomorrow? To celebrate? Just you and me?
My thumb hovered over the keyboard. I wanted to type. Yes,I wanted to tell him how much I wanted to see him and celebrate with him.
But the words wouldn't come, instead I typed out.
Me: Maybe. Let me think about it.
I sent it before I could change my mind, then immediately wanted to take it back. Maybe. What kind of answer was that?
I was still staring at my phone when I heard footsteps running across the parking lot.
"Vanessa!"
My head snapped up, and there he was, sprinting toward me, still in his hockey pants and undershirt, he had swapped his skates out for sneakers but otherwise he was fully geared up. His hair was damp with sweat, his face flushed, and he was breathing hard—from the game or from running, I couldn't tell.
He looked beautiful and absolutely insane for running out here in the cold without a proper jacket.
"Danny, what are you—you're going to freeze—"
"Why did you leave?" he asked, stopping a few feet away from me. His chest was heaving, his breath coming out in white puffs in the cold air.
"I told you. I needed some air."
"Bullshit." He took a step closer.
"You stayed for the whole game, Vanessa. You watched me score the winning goal—I saw you. And then the second it was over, you ran."
"I didn't run—"
"You always run," he said, and there was something raw in his voice. Not angry, exactly. More like... desperate.
"Every time we get close to something real, you run. And I need to know why."
"Danny—"
"I read your journal," he blurted out,pulling out the book and handing it to me.
"What?"I hissed
I pulled it out of his hands and my stomach dropped.
"The notebook. When it fell open, I saw—" He ran a hand through his hair, looking guilty.
"I know I shouldn't have read it. I know it was private. But I saw what you wrote about being scared, about not knowing if you ever stopped loving me, and I—"
"You had no right," I said, my voice shaking.
"That was private. Those were my private thoughts—"
"I know. I know, and I'm sorry. I really am." He took another step closer.
"But Vanessa, if you never stopped loving me, then why do you keep running?"
The question hung in the cold air between us.
"Because you scare me," I whispered, the words falling out before I could stop them.Danny went very still, like the words had stunned him, not likely as much as they had stunned me though.
"What?"
I looked away from him, unable to stare at him and watch his expression as I admitted this .
"You scare me, Danny. The way I feel when I'm with you scares me. Because I did this before. I fell for you before, and it nearly destroyed me when it ended. And I can't—I can't go through that again."
"I'm not going to hurt you," he said softly.
"You already did once," I said, finally meeting his eyes.
"You hurt me so badly freshman year that I spent three years avoiding anything that reminded me of you. And now you're back, and you're everywhere, and I can't stop thinking about you, and it terrifies me because what if it happens again? What if I let myself fall and you—"
"I won't," Danny interrupted, closing the distance between us.
"Vanessa, I swear to you, I won't hurt you again. What happened freshman year—"
"Was exactly what it looked like," I finished.
"I saw the pictures, Danny. You are in bed with Sophia. I saw them."
"Those pictures were staged," Danny said urgently.
"Someone drugged me that night. I don't remember anything after taking that drink at the party, and the next thing I knew, I was waking up in her bed with no memory of how I got there.” he started to say something but then he stopped. I didn't know what to say or think.
Three years of anger and hurt with carefully constructed walls were crumbling, and I didn't know how to stop it.
"Vanessa," Danny said softly, reaching for my hand and cupping my face with one palm.
"I know I'm asking a lot. I know you're scared. But can you please just—"
"There they are!"
We both turned to see Bean jogging toward us, Marco beside her. And behind them, were an older couple.
The woman looked too familiar, then I remembered where I had seen her–the woman from the parking lot.
"Danny, your parents have been looking everywhere for—" Bean stopped short when she saw how close Danny and I were standing, her eyes going wide.
"Oh. Sorry. Were we interrupting something?"
"Mom?" Danny's voice was strangled.
"Dad? What are you doing out here?"
"Looking for you," Jonathan said, his tone clipped.
"You ran off in the middle of celebrating. Your coach is furious."
But Alice wasn't looking at Danny. She was looking at me, recognition dawning on her face.
"Oh!" she said brightly.
"You're the lovely girl from the parking lot! The one who helped me find my seat." She turned to Danny with a bright smile
"This is your girlfriend? Why didn't you say so?"
The word hung in the air. Girlfriend.
I watched the color drain from Jonathan's face as he looked between me and Danny. I likely had the same look on my face.
They were Danny's parents.