The Hockey Star’s Remorse

#Chapter 1- Familiar Face

Evie

Finally, I made it. After four years of being the perfect student, I finally made it across that stage. The graduation party rages all around me. People are dancing, and singing, and cheering as they all let loose. Not that any of them took notice of me. I tend to stay out of the spotlight.

I had been so excited to receive this invitation. Timothy Hayes himself had personally invited me to this party. It’s my first house party ever. And word had it that Timothy’s house parties were notorious for being crazy and fun. Everyone at school was fighting over getting an invitation. The boys flipped coins. Girls sharpened their manicured nails, getting ready to claw their way to Timothy’s side.

It made sense. He was the hottest guy in school.

“Hey, Evie, I just need one last signature for my yearbook,” I slowly lift my chin to meet the hazel eyes of the only boy I would have risked it all for. Timothy Hayes. “You’re my final signature.”

“I don’t have a pen on me,” I say awkwardly.

He shrugs. “I have one in my room. Come on,” he urges, taking my hand and pulling me up the stairs to his room.

Now, everything has changed. There, laying beside me, was Timothy.

My immediate instinct was to scream. But I bite my tongue and cover my face in the pillows.

When I finally gathered my control, I sit up looking around the room. My clothes had been scattered wildly across the floor. I look down at myself. I had slept in his jersey. The number 9 was boldly printed on the front with a picture of our school mascot, the bulldog.

But the night was over and I had to go home. Slipping out of the room, with my clothes in hand, I make a break for the front door and back to my house.

**

A few days passed and that night was all I had been thinking about. Timothy had chosen me. It felt so good to be seen by him. My eyes haven’t left that jersey. I should give that back. It probably means a lot to him.

So I headed downstairs and started my short walk around the neighborhood. I wondered how he would react to me showing up at his door. I hoped he would be happy to see me, considering how he came to me.

As I approached his house, I noticed a few cars parked in his driveway. Those cars belonged to his friends. Loud laughter came from the back of the house. I couldn’t help but want to listen in to their conversation. It was too tempting. Tip-toeing around the side, I got close to the white-painted gate.

“I can’t believe you did that,” one says laughing. “You have guts, my man.”

sighed heavily. “She

Evie Sinclair? Isn’t she like a shut-in? Everyone knew that she didn’t care about any boys, except for the damn

Timothy laughed. “It wasn’t

of them blew a raspberry. “Whatever you say. You followed through on the

deal. My chest

girls ‘signatures’,” one of

argues. “It worked didn’t it. I slept with

I felt

any further. I throw his jersey on the front steps of his porch and make an attempt to run, but my legs were barely working. It feels like my body

“Evie?”

my tracks, gathering every bit

didn’t think

I say calmly, turning around to face

it any

myself to look away.

night can’t happen again,” I say

“But?”

in the

goals,” I spoke quietly. “And you have your professional career to think about. I think it’s best that we leave it as a one

at her. “What do

jaw tightens, teeth grinding against each other. “Bye, Timothy,”

and fast. I wish the ground would

it worse that I

look terrible,” he snorts, immediately as I enter the living room. “Your

“He wasn’t my boyfriend,” I

telling me that you slept

I snap angrily, bitter tears