Chapter 21 TYLER
Counting numbers. It was the only thing keeping me quiet, not to cause a scene. I knew coming to the festival meant I'd run into Peter, but I hadn't expected he'd try to approach me, so long as I kept my distance.
“Hey.” He tilted his chin at me in greeting. “Glad to see you here, Cap.”
“Can’t say likewise,” I deadpanned, not bothering to hide the hostility in my voice.
He gave me a small smile, then jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “The team’s over there, wanna hang?”
I was about to say no when Harper stepped forward, beating me to it. “Yes.”
“Cool. You know your friend is also there, right?”
“Megan?” Harper asked, eyes already searching for her friend amidst the crowd.
“Yeah. She’s been all over our goalie since the festival started. And if you ask me, I’d say Jax seems to be enjoying it just as much.”
Oh, he was enjoying it, alright.
Megan was holding a disposable cup of what I presumed contained alcohol while she sat on Jax’s lap, laughing about something someone had said among the group. At the same time, Jax had a hand around her waist, the other holding his own drink as he echoed her laughter.
“So this is her secret crush,” Megan crooned. She cupped both hands at the corner of her mouth, screaming out to her friend. “Megan, you slut.”
Her friend was racing toward her in an instant, squealing, ‘You came!’ all the way.
Something inside me burned just watching the two of them hug and chat. I didn’t even know Harper could giggle like that. The sound was unlike anything I’d heard in a while—those little snorts in between were both cute and infuriating. And yet, I knew I wouldn’t mind hearing them again.
I couldn’t tell if it was the dress, the hair, or maybe just the way she looked happy that made me stare, but I couldn’t stop myself. Just watching her made me feel things I didn’t want to. No, not when I was on the verge of losing my future—I couldn’t afford distractions.
As if sensing me staring, she turned, eyes glinting with excitement. “Would you mind if I go hang out with Megan for a while?”
“No,” I blurted out before my thoughts could catch up. I couldn’t force her to stay with me, knowing it would dim her shine. She was better off without me.
She didn’t even glance back once as Megan pulled her toward Jax, probably for an introduction. I couldn’t help but envy Megan for being able to bring out her smile like that when the best I’d ever gotten out of her was a snort.
“You’re going to make it obvious if you keep watching her like that.”
I peeled my eyes off Harper, my face hardening when they turned in Peter’s direction. “Why’re you still here?”
He scratched at the stubble forming on his chin, looking suddenly uncomfortable.
“Can we talk?”
“No.”
“Look, Cap, I think I’ve figured out why you’re mad at me.” His voice tried for casual but failed. He continued faster now. “I know I haven’t exactly been a good friend since the, uh, injury. I just didn’t know how to approach you.”
“You done?”
“I came to the hospital. But then I saw how much pain you were in, and I just couldn’t.” He sighed, the words sounding heavy as they escaped his lips. “You know I literally see you as a brother—I just couldn’t bear it. And I guess my way of handling it was by staying away. It doesn’t make sense, but that’s the truth. I didn’t stop coming over because I thought you were boring or out of your game or whatever the fuck you thought was the reason. I stayed away because seeing you hurting made me feel guilty.”
His words should’ve reached me. Maybe they would have once. But they didn’t. I couldn’t get past the fact that the one person I’d expected to be there wasn’t there. Selfish? Maybe. I didn’t care.
“I honestly don't care, man. You built the wall, and I don't plan on tearing it down.”
“C’mon, Cap. Don’t be like that. I’m trying to apologize here.”
Unable to stop myself, I started clapping slowly. Peter’s cheeks flushed. “No,” I said, the clap cutting the air. “You expect an apology and then me to accept it like that solves everything? That’s your big move?”
“Tyler,” he sighed.
My jaw tightened. My restraint was slipping. Seeing his sorry face made me want to crash my fist into it.
“I don’t think you have an idea what it means to lose the one thing you love temporarily, worse, when there’s a threat of permanence. You being there could have made the difference. To have someone who feels the same way I do about hockey tell me everything's going to be fine would have made a difference. But no. Not one of you showed up. Other than Mark, you all pretended like nothing happened.”
“Cap, I—”
“If my shoulder doesn't heal up, I fucking lose hockey. I stop playing for good, Peter! Just one word of encouragement from my fucking best friend would have been enough to stop me from losing it.” I pressed my lips into a thin line, and lifted my head to look up at the darkening sky before any tears would drop. “You wanted to talk, right? There. We’ve talked. Happy?”
I didn’t wait for an answer. I stormed off, putting distance between us. Confrontation had gutted me in ways I didn’t expect; my chest ached from it. I hated that it hurt. I hated that I had to ignore the one person I’d grown up with. But he’d chosen himself over me when I needed him. For that, I didn’t know if I could ever forgive him.
Barely seeing the path of bodies in front of me, my vision blurring, I kept on walking, heading straight for my car when a round of cheers erupted from a small gathering to my left. The noise made me self aware of how I'd initially arrived—accompanied. I paused, scanning the crowd.
In the middle was a petite figure, head thrown back, chugging from a glass. People clapped, and whistled, egging her on. Not even her friend—who should have been watching her—noticed the hockey player standing right behind, waiting to take advantage of her tipsiness. My fist curled on its own.
When she staggered back into his waiting arms, I barreled through the crowd, reaching them in three long strides, as I pulled her to me and buried my fist right in his face.