Page 8

Brooke

I wake up to what sounds like someone instructing an orchestra in the kitchen.

I groan, rolling over and panicking as I feel someone’s leg on top of mine, my eyes shooting open, and come face to face with Cami drooling. I release a sigh of relief, glad that I hadn’t accidentally taken things too far with my new friends.

We had stayed up late listening to breakup music and playing the most competitive game of bullshit I’ve ever seen.

At one point, Bear had to pull Cami off the table after Gunnar called bullshit on her, almost winning round and him being entirely right, turning over a nine of spades and two of hearts.

I smile at the hazy memory before I realise that if Cami is here, then who’s in the kitchen?

I shoot up and then exclaim, “Fuck,” and grab my head as it pounds. Cami doesn’t even stir next to me, her mouth open and snoring; she’s not as graceful a sleeper as she is a figure skater.

After bumping my way down the hallway, I stumble out into the living area and head into the kitchen, finding Grant, who has headphones on and doesn’t hear me come in.

He is shuffle dancing across the kitchen, humming along to a song that I could recognise in my sleep because it’s Shania Twain, ‘Man I Feel Like a Woman’, and if that song doesn’t make you want to kick a door down, I don’t know what does.

I can’t help but lean against the wall, watching him grab pizza boxes and bits of trash off the island and countertops and throw them in a bag.

He’s wearing a black athletic t-shirt and shorts, his hair wet like he’s just showered; he’s still humming as he turns and sees me standing in the doorway and abruptly stops, looking like a deer in headlights.

“Cute song choice,” I say, smirking as he shoots me a glare while wiping crumbs off the coffee table into the trash bag.

“Ha, ha, you’re lucky I even turned up to do this,” he tosses my way as he finds more paper plates to throw away. “Who even bets someone to clean their apartment?” he scoffs.

Another hazy memory comes into my mind of Cami jumping up and down after finally winning a round of bullshit.

“Well, if she had won, she would have had to clean yours,” I justify while shuddering at the thought of how messy the boy’s apartment probably is.

“Where are the rest of your boys, anyway?” I ask, walking further into the kitchen to grab water from the fridge.

He follows, and I chuck a bottle at him, which he catches easily, even though he's caught off guard.

“Showering off practice.” He shrugs.

“You’ve already been to practice and back this morning.” I gape at him, checking my watch. “It’s ten in the morning.”

“Not a morning person, huh?” He chuckles.

“Not after going to bed at what was it… Three am?” I ask.

“Four, and trust me, it wasn’t pretty. Bear chucked up twice.” He grimaces. “He thinks it was all the bouncing on the sofa to Blink-182.”

“Gosh, we listened to all the music genres last night, didn’t we?” I laugh, covering my mouth as it turns into a yawn. We had stayed up late. Or early?

“It was a good night.” He smiles at me, and my brain can’t help but mini-swoon. I need to slap myself. I’ve just ended a five-year relationship in the last twenty-four hours, and from the brief Grant Anders run-down Cami gave me yesterday, he’s a bit of a player, and one I should stay away from.

“Well, thanks for cleaning up.” I awkwardly give him a tight smile, crossing my arms over my chest.

“No problem,” he scratches his neck. “Um, how are you doing?”

“Ah, a little hungover, but I’ll shake it off.

” I shrug, waving my hand while taking another chug of water.

“I meant, you know, with everything yesterday?” He lets out a laugh but tries to cover it with a cough, and I feel my face go red as I painfully swallow the water. Of course, that’s what he meant.

I suddenly remember drunkenly spilling the beans to him as Cami and Adam duetted Olivia Rodrigo’s traitor. How appropriate. “I told you everything, huh?” I grimace while playing with the top of my bottle and avoiding looking him in the eye. “Kind of embarrassing, right?”

“For your mom and Jim, sure.” I look up and he’s staring at me intently. “No one could pay me any amount of money to do that to someone; it’s wrong on so many levels.”

We hold our gaze, and it feels nice to hear it from someone who isn’t Cami. I had been justifying some of it in my head, but his comments have firmly reinforced it in my brain.

We are jolted out of our moment when his phone alarm blares.

“Sorry.” he pulls it out and turns it off. “I’ve got this bonding thing booked for the Rookies with the rest of the team.”

“That’s nice.” I smile. “You don’t haze them then?”

He laughs at that. “No, no hazing, although I’m sure Adam might be up for it.”

“Seems the type.” I nod, and we grin at each other again.

“What’s your plan today?” he asks while picking up the garbage bag, and I walk him to the door.

“I’ve got to speak to my mom.” I sigh. “Then, I’m hoping to shake off what is bound to be one of the worst conversations of my life with a run and checking where all my belongings have ended up.”

He whistles as he slips through the door, and I lean against it. “Sounds like a fun day.” He gives me a small smile. “I hope it goes well, though.”

“Thanks.” I smile back and begin closing the door.

“If you ever need a running buddy, I’m always up for it,” he says as he walks backwards to his door.

“Even after playing a hockey game.” I quirk an eyebrow.

“Hey, it might be your only chance to keep up.” He winks, laughing while unlocking his door, and I roll my eyes, slamming mine in response .

Cocky asshole.

I drum my hands on the breakfast bar, trying to build up the courage to call my mom. She has tried calling me once. Once.

I’ve been putting this off since this morning; I found the moving company’s number and instructed them to deliver all the furniture to Josh’s apartment and the boxes to Cami’s.

Taking the plunge, I texted Josh. I told him I knew my mom had been paying him to date me, and he was released from any obligation to keep doing it, as I never wanted to see him again. I also told him to walk the other way if he sees me. I kept it short and sweet, and I’ve blocked his number.

I have nothing to say to him.

Then took a shower, painted my nails, and taught myself how to do a curly blowout. Am I putting off the phone call? Maybe, but my nails look cute, and my hair is bouncy, so I’m sticking with it being a good move.

Taking a deep breath,I press her name on my phone, holding it as I wait. Cami is sitting on the sofa in the living room for support; she said she will not listen, but I’ve put it on speaker, anyway.

The nerves are hitting me. I’ve never challenged my mom before, and she still doesn’t know the reason I left the party. She won’t even care what the reason is; she will want to control the situation straight away.

“Brooke,” she says curtly, and I can’t help but roll my eyes at her almost bored tone, not worried in the slightest.

“Mom,” I say just as curtly back.

“I’m hoping you’ve come to your senses and are ready to apologise to everyone.”

I blink in confusion, feeling like I’ve been sucker punched. “Apologise for what and to who?” I ask, bracing my hands nervously on the counter.

“For running away yesterday and ruining the party,” she grits out like she can’t believe I even need to ask. “The Hayles said you left a muddy track down the side of the house. I’ve offered to pay the gardening bill and, of course, you’ll need to pay me back…”

She continues to talk, and I close my eyes like I always do when she rants at me; how I could have expected any less from her, I don’t know.

It’s never been about what I wanted or needed; it’s always about her.

For a second, I imagine making things easy.

I’ll nod and apologise to the Hayles, and Josh will propose, and this becomes one big joke we tell at all our future parties, and I never mention the conversation I overheard.

No one will ever know, and I can go on revolving around Josh, just like my mom wants.

“No,” I say calmly, and I see Cami’s fist pump in my peripheral vision.

“What?” my mom asks, shock lacing her tone.

“I heard what you said to Josh yesterday,” I admit. “You’ve been paying him to date me since Dad died.”

“Oh.” She pauses. “Is that it?”

Is that it? I swing to look at Cami and she mouths, “What the fuck?” at me.

“You see nothing wrong with that?” I press, trying to get some kind of reaction that fits the crime.

“I admit, it’s not the most conventional thing to have done, but we had enough going on, Brooke. Thank God Josh came and told me before he did it.” She sighs on the phone. “Let’s get back to the topic at hand, please, look, the Hay—”

“No, I don’t think I’m going to, thank God that you prevented my boyfriend from having any free will and then lied to me for years about it,” I burst out angrily. I can feel tears pricking my eyes. Cami comes up next to me and grabs my hand.

“Don’t start with the dramatics, Brooke,” she bites out. “Come over; we will sit down and sort this all out. I think you’ll understand once I explain it properly to you.”

“I don’t want you to explain it to me, Mom.” I can’t help the sob that edges into my voice. “I want you to apologise; it was wrong.”

I already know she won’t. My mom is never in the wrong. Everything she does is justified and her version of right. I remember being little and never understanding how I could always be so wrong when my mom was always right.

“I won’t apologise for doing the best thing for my family,” she says with a tone of finality.

I realise this is it. “Okay, Mom.” I sigh, defeated.

“Perfect. Come home, and we will call Josh together. I’m sure this will all be sorted by tonight.”

“I’m not coming home, Mom; I’m moving in with Cami ”, I say calmly, squeezing Cami's hand and bracing for impact.

She sounds like she is coughing down the phone, more like choking with shock. I've never stood up to her like this before. “You’re making drastic decisions right now; calm down, let’s talk about this.”

“I don’t want to talk to you for a long time, Mom,” I say quietly, taking a deep breath in. “You and Josh betrayed my trust, and I need time to myself for a while.”

“Do you know how embarrassing this will look to everyone?” she scoffs, and that’s my sign to hang up.

The screen goes black, and I put it down and sigh. Cami pulls me into a hug, and I lean my head on her shoulder, and we don’t speak. This isn’t the first time my mom’s hurt me. I’m a veteran of dealing with the consequences of her actions. Someone’s got to, since she never does.

Later, I’m lying on the sofa with my legs hanging over the armrest in running shorts and a sweatshirt borrowed from Cami.

I’m trying to push myself to get up and run, but I just feel so defeated and sad. Usually, an exercise session would fix me, but the thought of leaving the apartment sets my anxiety off. I had even tried to do some basic yoga moves, but just gave up after I couldn’t get into the right mindset.

Cami headed out to catch up with the skating team, but promised she wouldn’t be too long. I told her it didn’t matter, and I was fine. But I’m not fine as my head falls back against the sofa seat.

I’m jolted out of my mini meltdown when there is a knock at the door, and I get up reluctantly, not even wanting to speak to anyone.

As I swing the door open, I face the four boys in the apartment next door.

“Hey.” Grant smiles, and the boys wave behind him.

“Er, hey.” I wave back awkwardly. “Cami’s not here.”

“We know; we wanted to see if you wanted to go for a run, " Gunnar says, smiling.

I groan, thinking Cami texted them. “You don’t have to take me on a pity run. I’m sorry if Cami threatened you to come check on me.” I sigh, feeling embarrassed and hopping from one foot to the other.

“Cami didn’t threaten us.” Bear laughs. “We saw her leave, and she said you hadn’t moved off the sofa all day!”

“You said earlier you wanted to go for a run.” Grant rubs the back of his neck. “So, I suggested a run to these guys and thought we would see if you were still up for it.”

I blink at them slowly; they want to go for a run with me, not because Cami asked them, but because they want to. “Um, I might be kind of slow for you guys,”

“No problem. Adam is slow, so we normally have to lower our pace for him.” Gunnar winks as I grab my keys and lock the door, tucking them in my bra. Grant catches me doing it and raises his eyebrows at me while Adam defends his speed, and I glare at him as we descend the stairs.

“How far are we going?” I ask as we start a slow jog.

“Eh, however far it takes to clear our minds.” Grant shrugs at me.

“I didn’t think you had anything in there to clear out.” I snort, running ahead to catch up with Bear, leaving him behind me as the boys laugh and start hounding him about the joke.

As I listen to the guys talking about random things related to hockey or class, I don’t feel like I need to get involved or pretend to be interested. My chest feels a little lighter.