Page 19

Crew

O ther than my ever-growing, crippling anxiety, there hadn’t been much going on other than when the girls came home from the bar with a fucking cat.

I was still very confused about how this even happened. According to them, some drugged up woman in the parking lot conned them into giving her thirty bucks in exchange for a tiny gray kitten that they stumbled back into the apartment with.

I’d be lying if I said the kitten wasn’t cute as hell though.

The girls drunkenly named her Kim K, and when it was me who realized that Kim K had a ballsack, I refused to be the one to break the news to Kota.

I made Lane and Bridget do it instead, and Kim K officially became Rob K.

Unfortunately, though, they let my name slip during the conversation, and Kota reacted like I was somehow to blame for the cat anatomy, as if I magically gave him a ballsack just to piss her off.

Out of hatred, she had cursed my name at the top of her lungs as she stomped throughout the apartment, leaving me more unsettled than I had already been.

I was on edge.

Alright, I was a little more than on edge— I was fucking frantic.

It’d been nearly two weeks since my tinfoil prank, and Kota hadn’t retaliated yet. Emphasis on the word yet.

I’d been expecting her comeback to come quickly after she pretty much told me she was going to make me hate my life and beg for mercy, but there had been nothing.

After the first few days of silence, I started anticipating it, expecting my room to be trashed every time I walked into it or to get attacked when I rounded every corner.

When it’d been over a week, the anxiety was killing me. I hated knowing she was waiting and plotting, enjoying watching me squirm with trepidation more and more as the days passed.

Finally, I’d had enough and decided to stay at the hockey house for a few days, making my own make-shift bedroom out of the living room.

The guys didn’t mind, practically encouraging me to do so. Ever since moving out, I knew I missed them, but I didn’t realize just how much I missed them until I’d been staying here.

I was going to stop at the apartment last night and grab some more clean clothes, but after realizing Kota was at home, I decided to stay at the house and play Xbox with the guys instead.

Since we had practice this morning, I figured I’d swing by the apartment beforehand. I made sure to text Lane first to ensure the coast was clear.

Me: Is Kota home?

Lane: Yeah but she’s asleep

Me: Are u sure?

Lane: It’s hardly 7 a.m. so yeah, I’m pretty sure lol

Gathering up my dirty clothes, I stuffed them into a drawstring bag so that I could toss them in my hamper at home. As I was walking to my car, my phone buzzed again.

Lane: Stop being a pussy and just come home

Me: Respectfully, fuck u 3

I tossed my phone onto the passenger seat, ignoring it for the five-minute drive when it buzzed again.

Kota usually didn’t wake up until closer to eight every day, but the plan was still to get in and out as quickly as possible.

I entered the apartment as quietly as a two-hundred-pound man could, intending to head straight to my room and straight out.

“Hey.”

“Shit!” I yelped, catching my breath as I turned to see Lane leaning casually against the kitchen counter, smothering a grin behind his morning cup of coffee.

“What’re you doing man?”

“Grabbing some clothes,” I explained in a low voice.

Lane took another sip. “What I really meant to ask is when are you coming home?”

I blew out a breath, running a hand down the back of my neck. “Just... give me a few more days.”

He saw right through me, reading my mind as if it were his own. “You’re gonna try to wait until break, aren’t you?”

Damn right, I am.

If I waited until Thanksgiving break, Kota would head home, and I’d be able to successfully dodge whatever she had planned. Well, for a few days at least.

“It’s not that far away,” I said.

He drowned his disapproving look with another sip of coffee, eyeing me like a disappointed father. “Crew, that’s in two weeks. You’ve already been gone for four days.” I opened my mouth to defend myself, but he brought his hand up, signaling for me to shut it. Such a dad move.

“She’s probably forgotten about it all by now,” he claimed.

I always said that Lane was one of the smartest guys I knew, but that right there was the dumbest shit he’s ever said. “You know that’s not true.”

He sighed, not bothering to fight me on it as he set his mug down. “Well, you can’t avoid her forever.”

“Trust me, I’ll find a way.”

“You know, this could all be over in a split second if you just surrender.”

“Hell no! I’m not letting her win.”

His mouth twitched, fighting a menacing smirk. God, I wished I could read his mind for once. I bit the inside of my cheek, watching him, my eyes narrowing.

He didn’t break eye contact with me, but he did look a bit sketchier as the seconds ticked by, shifting his weight unsteadily.

I nodded at him. “What do you know?”

By the way he reached for his mug again, attempting to use it as a shield to hide his suspicious expression, he’d easily just given himself away.

“I don’t know anything.”

“Lane,” I hissed, “you know something. What is it?”

“I don’t know anything,” he repeated with a shrug.

A sense of betrayal ripped through me. “Whose side are you on?!”

Voice remaining as calm as ever, he said, “I told you from the beginning that I’m on no one’s side.”

“This is bullshit,” I fumed, continuously cussing under my breath as I spun around and flounced into my room.

I reached for the light switch, but when I flicked it up, nothing happened. “What the hell?” I quietly huffed, fighting with the switch.

Guess I needed to change the lightbulbs.

That task was going to have to wait though.

After letting my eyes adjust to the darkness, the contents of my drawstring bag were dumped into my hamper. I went through each drawer in my dresser, grabbing an abundance of things.

T-shirts, check. Pants, check. Socks, check. Boxers, check.

I stuffed a few more things in the bag from my closet before making a beeline for the front door.

***

Practice wasn’t too bad.

For the upperclassmen, at least.

Apparently, some of the freshman decided it would be a bright idea to have a get together last night and stroll into practice twenty minutes late and hungover.

Coach Palmer wasn’t very happy obviously and told them if they thought solely alcohol could make them puke, they had another thing coming.

Every single one puked by the time the last whistle was blown.

Cody and I learned the hard way ourselves freshman year that Coach was never fucking around when it came to our time on the ice. We too thought it would be a good idea to drink before practice one night. A couple beers and half a fifth later, we were fucked up. And it didn’t take a fucking genius to tell by our half-dead appearances the next morning that we spent our night jacking off bottles.

I threw up five times during that practice, and never drank that much the night before hockey ever again.

After a quick shower at the hockey house, I went to get dressed, quickly realizing I left my bag in the living room.

Tying a towel around my waist, I trudged out to grab some clothes.

Cody was lying on the couch watching TV, the remote resting in the center of his chest. He had one arm slung behind his head, a stupid, smug grin rising as he saw me.

“Wow, Crew. No wonder why your roommate loves you so much. Who wouldn’t when you walk around looking like that ?” he said sarcastically.

“Fuck off,” I quietly muttered, digging through my bag.

The look in his eyes was quite mischievous, matching his smirk. “You sure you haven’t fucked her?”

I groaned, shaking my head. “For the thousandth time, no, I haven’t fucked her.”

He shrugged against the couch. “Just wondering. I mean, it would explain why she’s plotting your death.”

“Well, good thing she can’t kill me when I’m not there.”

His smirk turned a bit serious, yet playful all the same. At this point, he seemed to be talking to himself, uttering some bullshit nonsense that I hardly had the mental capacity to listen to. “Hey, from what we know about her, she seems pretty smart. Definitely smarter than you. She’s probably fully capable of hatching a plan to kill you even if you’re not there. Hell, maybe she even hired a hitman.”

Goddamn, I was wishing I put these clothes in the bag nicer. Everything was tangled together like a knot. I only had a t-shirt and some joggers picked out so far, and considering I had to leave for class soon, I needed to hurry my ass up.

“Or do you think she’d rather kill you herself so that she gets the full satisfaction?” Cody added.

I dropped the bag for a moment so that I had a full view of him. “I need you to shut up.”

There had been a lot on my mind the last few days, but the only thing I was trying to focus on right now was getting to class on time.

It was my sports marketing class, one of my few classes where they took attendance before the lecture began, and I definitely didn’t want to miss the attendance points since I didn’t do well on our last homework assignment. I was relying on the attendance points to help cushion my overall grade.

“You’re feisty today,” Cody said.

Found socks. Fabulous. Now I just needed boxers.

“Are you sexually frustrated?”

That one I couldn’t ignore.

My head snapped up, annoyance climbing up my spine. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Cody smiled deviously at the edge in my voice, looking like he was having a ball. “I mean, you haven’t gotten laid in days. Unless you’ve been sneaking girls in and fucking them on the couch?”

I stared at him with a blank expression, causing him to let out a spurt of laughter.

“How many days has it been? Four? Five? Are you having withdrawals?”

“You’re an ass,” I murmured through clenched teeth, refusing to look at him anymore. The worst part was that he might’ve been a little bit right. I wouldn’t say I was having quote on quote withdrawals, but this was definitely the longest I’d gone without sex in a while.

He let out another laugh as I caught sight of what looked to be an article of clothing whose color did not match the rest in the slightest.

My brows furrowed, thumb and forefinger pinching the fabric and slowly pulling it out.

I held it away from my face, staring in disbelief.

They were my boxers, definitely my boxers. But they were hot fucking pink.

Cody’s voice cracked through laughter like he was going through puberty and his balls were in the midst of dropping. “What the fuck are those ?”

I just stared at them, my mouth agape. I wanted to scream, but I kept it inside. All I could feel was the heat of anger blooming across my body.

Cody was laughing so hard that I could hardly understand him as he spoke. “Is this her work?”

I gave a tight nod, staring at the mess of pink between my fingers. I couldn’t fucking believe what I was seeing.

Every time Kota retaliated, it seemed to be worse than the time before. I wasn’t even sure how she thought of shit like this. It really verified how evil and twisted her mind worked.

Cody still hadn’t stopped laughing, but now he was also clapping like he was at a goddamn show. “Mad respect. This girl is my new idol!”

Considering I had less than five minutes to leave or else I’d be late for class, I swallowed my pride and put the hot pink boxers on.