Valerie
The class was boring as usual, but somehow, I survived without dozing off during the lectures. It was almost a badge of honor at this point—listening to Mr. Campbell drone on about historical trade routes without my eyes glazing over. By the time the bell rang, I was practically sprinting out the door.
I'd passed Damon in the hallway several times, and as expected, he didn't even glance in my direction. The nerve of him. Acting like I didn't exist after everything. I told myself it didn't bother me, but my hands were gripping the straps of my bag a little tighter than usual.
After my last class, I headed to the campus center to meet Jessica. We were supposed to study together for the biology project that Mr. Harris had assigned. He was a sweet old guy, though his endless reminders about deadlines made it hard to slack off.
The cafe where we always met was bustling with students, the smell of coffee and pastries hanging in the air. Jessica loved the place, probably because it had this cozy seating area near the windows that gave her the perfect view of the courtyard. Predictable as ever, I spotted her sitting at a corner table, leaning back in her chair, scrolling through her phone. She was completely absorbed, oblivious to the world—or me, for that matter.
I slid into the seat across from her. Only then did she look up, a smirk already forming on her face.
"Her majesty finally decided to grace me with her presence," she teased, setting her phone down and grabbing her drink. "Val, you're like 15 minutes late."
I rolled my eyes, pulling my bag onto the chair beside me. "It's 2:55, Jess. We were supposed to meet at 3:00. If anything, I'm early."
She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table like she was about to make some kind of grand declaration. "Well, I assumed we'd talk a little before getting started. You know, catch up. And also… I might have a fantastic idea."
I raised an eyebrow, already suspicious. Jessica didn't get "ideas." She got schemes that were usually as reckless as they were illegal.
"Oh boy. And what exactly did your fantastic brain come up with this time?" I asked, leaning back in my chair.
She grinned, and for a moment, I debated whether I even wanted to hear it.
"Poison."
I blinked. "I'm sorry, what?"
"Poison," she repeated like it was the most natural thing in the world.
A laugh escaped me before I could stop it. "Uh-huh. Your great idea is poison? Please, Jess, enlighten me. Clearly, my shallow mind can't keep up with your genius."
She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Come on, Val. I'm talking about Damon. You said you wanted to get back at him, right? All I'm saying is…I know a guy."
That sent me into another burst of laughter, loud enough to draw a few curious glances from nearby tables. Jessica, however, was dead serious.
"You're insane," I said, wiping a tear from the corner of my eye. "I swear, I wouldn't be shocked if you ended up in jail one day. Now, how about we focus that twisted brain of yours on our project instead of criminal activity? We both need better grades."
She shrugged, pulling her notebook out of her bag. "I'm just trying to help. But fine, I'll put my ideas on the back burner for now. Just… let me know if you change your mind."
Shaking my head, I opened my own notebook and started flipping through the pages. But no matter how hard I tried to focus on diagrams and notes, her words stuck with me.
The idea of getting back at Damon—really getting back at him—was tempting. I mean, it was a tad outlandish though.
Jessica's voice broke through my thoughts. "Val? Earth to Valerie?"
"Yeah, yeah. I'm here," I said, though my mind was still elsewhere.
We started working on the project in relative silence after that, but her suggestion lingered in the back of my mind. I couldn't believe I was even entertaining the idea.
Still, it wasn't the worst plan I'd ever heard...
---
Damon
The sound of sticks clashing and skates scraping against the ice echoes from the rink as I pull on my jersey, adjusting the straps of my shoulder pads. The guys are already hyped for practice—chirping each other, laughing, pounding fists on the benches like it's game day. It's loud, chaotic, the kind of energy that's contagious.
But I'm not feeling it.
"Dude," Alex's voice cuts through the noise, pulling me back. He's sitting on the bench, leaning over to lace up his skates. His tone is already accusatory, which means this is about to be annoying. "You really broke up with her on her birthday?"
I shrug, barely meeting his eyes. "It's not like it matters."
Alex lets out a sharp laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. "Damn, man. That's cold. Even for you."
"Is it, though?" I question, grabbing my stick from the rack. "It wasn't serious. She knew that. Besides, it's better to end it now than drag it out."
"Right," Alex says, drawing the word out like he doesn't believe me for a second. He leans back, resting his elbows on his knees as he watches me. "You really don't feel bad at all? Not even a little?"
I glance at him, arching a brow. "What's there to feel bad about? She's fine. She'll get over it."
Alex stares at me for a moment, his expression caught somewhere between disbelief and mild disgust. "Breaking up with a girl on her birthday," he says, shaking his head again. "You're really setting the bar for romance, Damon. Real Hallmark stuff."
"Spare me the lecture, Alex," I say, shoving the door open and stepping onto the ice. The cold air hits me immediately, sharp and bracing, and I let out a slow breath. At least out here, I don't have to think.
Alex isn't done, though. The crunch of his skates on the ice tells me he's followed me out, still in lecture mode. "Look, I'm not saying you had to buy her flowers or serenade her or anything, but couldn't you have waited a day? Or, I don't know, done it over text like a normal person?"
I snort, lining up a puck and taking a casual shot on goal. It skids past the goalie and thuds into the back of the net. "Texting's worse. She deserved better than that."
Alex stares at me, deadpan. "Yeah, because dumping her on her birthday in person is such an upgrade."
I shrug again, already bored of this conversation. "It was fun while it lasted, but things were starting to get… tedious. I did us both a favor."
"You're unbelievable," Alex mutters, skating up beside me. He's quiet for a second like he's debating whether to keep going, but then he sighs. "Alright, fine. Do whatever you want. Just… try not to screw things up for me, okay?"
I glance at him, frowning. "What are you talking about?"
"Jessica," he says like it's obvious. "I finally asked her out, and she said yes. But now I've got to worry about your drama with Valerie blowing up in my face."
"Jessica's got nothing to do with this," I say, but there's an edge to my voice now.
"Jessica's her best friend, genius," Alex shoots back. "If Valerie's pissed at you, she'll probably drag Jess into it. And if Jess gets dragged into it, guess what? That means I get dragged into it, all because my best friend can't stop being a dick."
I laugh, though there's no humor in it. "Sounds like a 'you' problem, Alex."
He glares at me. "No, it's an us problem. If your mess screws up my shot with Jessica, I'm holding you personally responsible."
I don't respond right away, letting his words hang in the air as I skate to center ice. The puck glides smoothly beneath my stick, and I focus on the simple rhythm of passing it back and forth. Alex keeps watching me, though, waiting for some kind of acknowledgment.
Finally, I sigh. "Fine. I'll keep Valerie in check. Happy?"
"Not even a little," he scoffs, but he skates off, clearly deciding to let it go.
The thing is, I know he's right. Valerie might play it cool on the outside, but she's not the type to let something like this slide. She'll want payback, and knowing her, it won't be subtle.
Still, I can't bring myself to care. Whatever game she wants to play, I'll win.
For now, though, I push the thought of her out of my mind and focus on practice. The ice is mine, and out here, nothing else matters.