Page 13

Crew

A fter a clean sweep this weekend, the guys were throwing a celebratory hockey party after our game on Saturday night.

Usually, I’d be there all night, drinking and flirting and eventually hooking up with some girl I’d probably never see again, but tonight was different.

Tonight, I had better things to do.

Once I was sure there was no one currently at our apartment, I left the hockey party early when no one was paying attention.

When I got home, I double checked to make sure I was the only one there before tossing my shit in my room so that I could get to work.

I took a glance at my away jersey that was hanging up in my closet, the one Kota wore to our first game yesterday. I narrowed my eyes at it.

The nerve of that girl. I still couldn’t believe she had the guts to walk through the arena with my name and number on her back. The jersey seemed tainted with her bitchiness. I’d never wanted to burn one of my jerseys before until now.

Focus, Crew, I reminded myself. Stick to the task at hand.

It wasn’t until late last night that I came up with this idea, but the second I did, I knew I had to do it.

Rushing into the bathroom, I snagged the bag of toothpaste that I bought for the occasion from where I’d hidden it underneath the sink.

I had no idea how long I had before someone would come home, so I worked as if I only had minutes.

Once I got all my supplies situated, taking up most of the kitchen island, I got to work, carefully untwisting every Oreo cookie and using a butter knife to scrape the cream off. I squeezed a glob of toothpaste onto each wafer before pressing its other half against it to create a perfect Oreo with toothpaste filling.

A menacing smirk, so strong that it physically hurt, sat on my face. I felt kind of evil for what I was doing. For a second, I wondered if I should just scratch this whole prank, be the bigger person and try not to let Kota get to me.

Until I waved the thought off.

No way in hell was I going to let her think she won. And let’s face it. My lack of retaliation probably wouldn’t stop her from pulling some more shit on me anyway.

She’d gotten me twice now— once with the tampons and once with my jersey. But I felt like messing with her snacks was personal enough to even the score.

And I couldn’t fucking wait.

I finished just in time for Lane to trudge through the door, all sullen eyed with saggy shoulders.

When his gaze left the floor just long enough to notice me sitting on the couch, he looked almost disappointed to see me. “Why are you home so early?”

“I had a migraine,” I lied, expecting him to catch it, but even if he did, he didn’t seem to care, giving what was hardly a nod. “How about you?”

“It’s almost midnight.”

“Oh,” I let out underneath my breath, glancing at the clock on the stove. “Yeah, it is... I’m assuming I won’t really see you tomorrow?”

I could hear the pain laced into his voice. With a sigh, he said, “Probably not.”

He sounded tired, run-down, as if he’d just had the most exhausting day of his life.

“You want me to bring you food throughout the day?”

“Yeah,” Lane sighed again. “Thanks.” As he walked off and hid in his bedroom, my stomach started to hurt.

In twenty minutes, it would officially be Lane’s birthday, his least favorite day of the year.

Lane lost his twin brother a few years before we met, and for as long as I’d known him, he hated his birthday. The first few years I knew him, I tried getting him out and about on his birthday to celebrate. One time, I even threw him a party. It turned into everyone else celebrating while he locked himself away in his room with a fifth of vodka.

I usually stayed up late on the weekends, but since Lane was an early riser and I needed to make sure I was awake to cook him breakfast, I decided to crash.

The second my head hit the pillow, my mind was filled with fantasies of what Kota’s reaction may be when she tasted her new Oreos.

A mischievous grin settled on my face, and I wouldn’t have been surprised if it stayed there all throughout the night.