Brenna

All morning, Shea and I are texting back and forth. It's mostly about French.

Mostly.

The rest is him complaining about attending Preston's birthday party—if we can call it that. People will be so shit-faced before the night ends the concept of party won't make sense to anyone. He tries to convince me to forgo the plan. I tell him to fuck off (in a joking manner). That being said, my words hold some honesty. He dragged me into this mess. It's his job to fix it. I didn't agree to partake in this. I agreed to take Connor down. Shea's role will play a part in achieving that. Even if he despises Connor, there are steps we need to take before he meets his demise.

However, this texting scenario is problematic.

All throughout our classes, we're texting each other. We're exchanging glances. Smiling.

I don't like where this is going. Becoming friends again with Shea is... It makes me second-guess myself. Is being friends worth the trouble? Who's saying our friendship won't fall apart after this is over? A common enemy is fuelling our truce. Despite his attitude, I can see a boy who wants to be better. He's taken my comments to heart. I've experienced effort on his part. Knowing he wants to try makes him more appealing.

By the time lunch arrives, I've relieved. Lunch gives me a chance to forget about my phone. Texting Shea isn't good.

"Brenna!" Hunter calls.

I glance up from my phone. Hunter and the rest of the gang are sitting across the cafeteria. He's dressed in his typical chef attire. His white hat sits on the table, forgotten. He must be on a break from his shift in the culinary program. Every once in a while, Hunter helps with cooking the daily cafeteria meals.

He raises his hand and waves. There's a big smile on his face.

I can't help but smile back. Seeing Hunter always puts a smile on my face. I'm thankful to have him as a friend.

As I'm winding my way through the crowd, I keep my gaze focused on the table ahead. It's the usual group: Hunter, Nick, Drew, Ella, and Evren. Until I see the two stragglers sitting on the ends. It's KJ and Shea.

I stop in the middle of the cafeteria, my hands falling to my sides. My mouth goes a little slack. I'd been too focused on Hunter to realize who else was there.

Why the fuck is Shea sitting next to Hunter?

They talked during our outing to Scandia. Not enough to become friends, let alone like each other, though. And... And why are KJ and Ella talking?

I rub the heel of my hand against my forehead. Some kind of fuckery is occurring. Perhaps I worked too hard at this morning's practice and the gym class after. I try to recall the drills we did. Did I hit my head on the ice? Seeing everyone together makes me feel like I've fallen into an alternate universe.

"Finally!" Evren exclaims. "What took you so long, Brenna?"

My gaze flitters over Shea and Hunter. They're focused on the screen of Shea's phone. I don't know what they're watching. It gives me anxiety.

Tearing my gaze away from them, I clear my throat and make eye contact with Evren. Her crisp white blouse contrasts beautifully with her warm beige skin. She looks ready for a business meeting. It makes my Canucks crewneck sweater and ripped skinny jeans feel frumpy.

"I had to stop at my locker," I reply, holding up my lunch bag. Yeah, I still use a lunch bag. Carrying around food in my backpack all day annoys me. I prefer to switch my bags out unless I have homework to do during the lunch period. Which I don't this time.

Evren laughs, her brown eyes crinkling at the corners. "You're hilarious, Brenna."

My mouth pinches to one side while I survey the table. Unless someone moves over, there's no room for me.

Just as the thought enters my head, Hunter notices my presence. "Bren," he says. He nudges Shea. Shea looks up from the video they were watching. Our gazes connect, and Shea grants me a small smile. My face stays neutral. This is weird as fuck.

Both of them scoot to the side, allowing me a space between them. I'm hesitant about sitting between them. A full-on war could break out. This feels planned.

They're adamant about me sitting between them, though. Setting my lunch bag down on the table, I climb in between Shea and Hunter, keeping my gaze locked with Evren's. She raises her eyebrows in question. I shoot her a sardonic look. This is messed up. Thank God Catina's not here or else she'd use this situation to her advantage. By that I mean she'd tease the hell out of me.

Knowing I can't get out of this, I turn to Hunter. "What were you guys watching?"

"Replays from last night's Canucks versus Jets game." His grin is smug. "Remember? The one the Canucks lost?"

Shea's sitting on my left, and his snort is adamant.

Hunter raises his eyebrows. He stares over my shoulder. "Something funny, Smith?"

I don't need to look at Shea to know he's rolled his eyes. His voice is dramatic enough. "Please. The Winnipeg Jets are a bunch of goons. They have no skills."

"At least the Jets don't choke in Game Seven of the Stanley Cup Playoffs."

Shea coughs, looking away.

My hands freeze on my lunch bag. "Hunter," I say, keeping my voice calm. "We agreed to never speak of that season."

A sheepish grin crosses his face. "Sorry, Bren. Smith over there is making it too easy."

When I glance at Shea, I see he's not happy, either. We both still hold a grudge against the Boston Bruins. The glare in his hazel eyes is bone chilling because it reminds me of myself. Until the day I die, I will hate the Boston Bruins.

"It's ironic you want to go to university in Boston," Hunter jokes.

Shea relaxes, shrugging off Hunter's comment. "Hockey is hockey. Besides, it's not like I'll play for the Boston Bruins." He turns to his food. It's some kind of rice bowl. It looks delicious compared to my vegetarian sandwich. "Tucker, before this conversation ends, I have to admit, I feel sorry for you. How does it feel being the only Jets fan?" Shea gestures to the rest of the group. "Everyone else at this table adores the Canucks. Who wouldn't want to play for their home province? Am I right, guys?" He glances at me. "And ladies?"

My mouth twitches, but I don't allow a smile to show.

"Don't drag me into this, Shea," KJ says, breaking his conversation with Ella. "I'm a Habs fan."

Shea points his fork at KJ. "But at least you're not a Jets fan, right?"

KJ sighs, glancing at Ella for help. All Ella does is shake her head. He sighs again and looks at Smith. "Sure, Smith. For the sake of whatever point you're trying to prove, sure."

Drew snorts. "Sorry, Hunter. I have to agree with Smith."

"I'm out of this," Nick says. "You guys are missing out. The Calgary Flames top the NHL."

Gagging noises reverberate through the crowd. I'm fairly certain Nick chose the Flames just to piss us off. Whenever our group gets together, he's always cheering for the Canucks.

Shaking my head, I pick up my sandwich and take a bite. It's bland, but I choke it down. I'm starving.

As the conversation continues on, it slowly progresses into something else. Something I haven't thought about. The Winter Formal in December. I tune out. We're discussing the event too soon. We're still two weeks away from it. Hunter and I usually go to events like these as friends.

"Have you picked out a dress yet?" Ella asks me.

Setting my sandwich down, I open it and grab the piece of lettuce that fell out. "Not yet," I reply. 

Gasps escape from Ella and Evren's mouths. Even Drew, Nick, and Hunter look shocked. Shea looks bored. I ignore their stares, placing the lettuce back on the sandwich before closing it again.

"I'll find one. Winter Formals and Grad are overrated, but I want to hang out with you guys."

Hunter nudges me. He's chuckling. "That's the spirit."

I nudge him back, rolling my eyes.

"Honestly," KJ says. Everyone looks at him. "Harrison's got a point. I'd rather put $150 towards an NHL game."

I take a bite of my sandwich, nodding. After Mom buying me a new vehicle and splitting the payments with me, neither of us can afford to attend a hockey game. One day, though, I'll go to one. KJ's words do ring true, though. I should save my money for something else. Then again, I'd hate to miss out on a celebration with my friends.

Nick shrugs. "I disagree."

Snorting, Drew punches Nick in the shoulder. "You disagree because you've got a date. That chick from our Spanish class is damn fine." He shoots an apologetic look to the ladies. "Sorry. That sounds rude. But it's the truth. I've got a thing for brunettes."

Evren shoots daggers at Drew. She waggles her fork at him, little blobs of spaghetti sauce flying everywhere. "There's no shame in thinking a woman is hot. Just don't go around thinking you can stare at her boobs or butt without appreciating her personality. And, don't go after her. She's going out with Nick. There are boundaries."

Nick snorts again, wiping away a splotch of spaghetti sauce from his cheek. "I would never cross those boundaries."

Evren turns back to her spaghetti. "What about the rest of you? Any dates? I'm attending the Winter Formal with Alexia Hunting."

"That girl from the Grad Council?" KJ asks. He stabs a piece of potato with his fork and pops it in his mouth.

Evren nods.

"Huh," KJ says, glancing at Ella. Ella has her head tilted downward. Her cheeks are flushed. "I'll probably tag along as the third wheel."

"I need to leave," Ella says. She stands abruptly, knocking over Hunter's Gatorade. Blue liquid spills across the table, soaking everything.

KJ sets his fork down, groaning. "El, come on. I was joking."

An awkward silence settles over us as Ella gathers up her belongings. I want to run after her, but something's keeping me tethered to my seat. When I glance to my left, I see Shea's hand around my bicep. He's holding me back, but not so hard it hurts. My gaze flicks from his hand to his gaze. He shakes his head.

I look at KJ. He's packed up his belongings.

"Ella!" KJ calls. He follows her, winding through the crowded cafeteria and disappearing around the corner.

Silence settles over us. The remaining group members work on their lunches, including me. I feel bad for KJ and Ella. Although KJ can get on my nerves, he's a decent person. I know Ella's still interested in him, too. After Ella's confrontation, I can't help but feel the urge to do something for her. Maybe I'll talk to KJ...

"Sooo..." Shea drawls, breaking the silence. "Harrison. Want to go to the Winter Formal with me?"

Evren gasps.

Drew says, "What the fuck?"

Nick laughs, nearly choking on his lunch.

Hunter stares at me.

Seconds pass before everyone is staring at Shea. Including me. Few people know about the bet and our plan to overthrow Connor. Those few include Shea, me, KJ, and Ella. The latter two have left the table.

He loosens a shaky laugh, stabbing his fork into the rice bowl. His cheeks are a light shade of pink. "Calm down, guys. I was joking."

Several seconds of silence pass before Evren speaks up. "I agree, Shea. You and Brenna should go together." She directs her gaze to Hunter. "Willa Caddel doesn't have a date. You said you wanted to ask her out."

Hunter rubs his jaw. He looks worried, especially when he glances at me. I give him a reassuring smile. I know Hunter has a crush on me, but he's also interested in Willa Caddel. She's the captain of the girl's basketball team. They've talked many times in biology. All I want is for Hunter to be happy... So long as him having a girlfriend doesn't prevent us from hanging out. I don't want to lose my best friend.

"Hunter and I were planning on going as friends," I shrug. "We do that every year. But if he wants to go with Willa, then I'm not stopping him."

Hunter smiles at me, despite his cheeks flushing pink. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," I reply, firmly.

"Okay," Hunter sighs. His icy blue eyes focus on Shea, who is visible over my shoulder. "Think you can do it, Smith?"

"Do what? Be specific, Tucker." The smirk in Shea's voice causes me to roll my eyes.

"Treat her right," Hunter replies.

When I glance over my shoulder, I see Shea press his lips together and look away. He looks uneasy. Which is strange. Arrogant confidence usually bleeds from Shea. This time? Not so much.

He sighs, bringing his gaze back to mine. "I'm trying."

Just like Shea tends to, he removes his hat and runs a hand through his hair. The first question that comes to mind is How is he wearing a hat in school without being scolded? The second question is: Why the hell is he wearing the arcade ring?

My lips part, then close.

Seeing the cheesy glimmer of purple glitter causes butterflies to assault the lining of my stomach. I turn away, focusing on my food. "Yeah," I say, hoping no one can see how hot my cheeks are. "We can go together."

After that, I remove my phone from my pocket and open my gym app. I need to register for tonight's spin class. Shea's actions have thrown me for a loop. Exercise is how I bring myself back down to Earth.

While the conversation shifts, Shea nudges me beneath the table with his knee. When I glance at him, he jerks his head to my phone. "Are you signing up for another gym class? Didn't you attend one this morning before school?"

I press my lips into a firm line. Here we go again.

Shea turns back to his applesauce. A hateful comment sits on my tongue, ready to strike if he scolds me about exercising. Who the hell still eats applesauce? We're not babies anymore.

"Nothing," he shrugs. He stirs his applesauce around and takes a bite before setting it down. He leans over the table, looking past me. "Tucker?"

Hunter removes himself from whatever conversation is occurring. "Yeah?"

Shea jerks his head at my phone.

I narrow my eyes, glancing between them. "What are you two up to?"

"Bren..." Hunter sighs. He sets his sandwich down. "Don't kill us."

A confused look crosses my face. "Huh?"

Suddenly, I feel Hunter's hands wrap around my wrists. My head snaps back and forth between them as I pull against his grip. "What the hell are you two doing?"

My struggles are problematic. Hunter is strong. I blame his passion for cooking. He works at a restaurant and is always lifting heavy shit. If Shea had been the one to hold me back, I could've kicked his ass.

"You guys!"

Across from me, Drew wrinkles his nose. "What the hell are you two doing?"

"Teaching Harrison a lesson," Shea replies.

Hunter flips my wrist over.

Shea leans close, the scent of his cologne overpowering my nose. His fingers work the band of my Apple Watch free, and it slides from my wrist. He pockets the watch. I stare at my bare wrist, noting the imprint of the band. Perhaps I had it on too tight.

Imprint aside, they have no right to take my watch.

I need it. It keeps track of the calories I've burned and how much exercise I've done. Besides, I need to attend class tonight.

Once Hunter has released my hands, I turn to Shea. Keeping my face neutral and my voice calm, I lean in, glaring at him. His body stiffens. He looks wary.

Good.

He should.

Shea will face hell. Hunter will later. It only seems fitting.

With one hand, I grip the collar of Shea's shirt and pull him close. Our faces are inches away. I hold out my free hand. "Give me back my watch, Shea."

Before speaking, he expels a deep breath. "No."

"Excuse me?" I blink.

He repeats his previous response.

I narrow my eyes. "Stealing my watch won't prevent me from attending spin class."

From behind, Hunter rests his hand on my shoulder. "We're looking out for you, Bren. Without the watch, maybe you won't feel obliged to go. The Canucks have another game tonight. Maybe sit around and watch it? Relax?"

One more glare is cast at Shea before I release him and turn around, crossing my arms. "You two are assholes. I liked it better when you hated each other."

Hunter snorts, picking up his sandwich. "Please. Smith and I still hate each other. Right, Smith?"

"Yeah," Shea replies.

Their tones aren't convincing.

*  *  *

Later in the evening, I stare at my reflection. I'm dressed in shorts and a sports bra. My hair is tied up in a ponytail. My watch is missing from my wrist.

Crossing my arms, I frown at my reflection.

Hunter and Shea overstepped their boundaries. They had no right to steal my Apple Watch. Even... Even if I can see their point. Maybe I am overworking myself. And maybe it would be nice to sit down on the couch and watch a hockey game. Or read a book.

Muttering profanity, I turn away from the mirror and rummage through my closet. From it, I remove an old pair of baggy sweatpants and a matching sweater. I'll look frumpy while wearing them, but at least they'll be comfy.

Unless I stay home and relax, something tells me Hunter and Shea will not return my watch. I wouldn't be surprised if Hunter calls Mom and asks. I mean... I can't blame him. I'd lie and say I didn't go.

Flicking off the light, I head downstairs to the living room. A blanket hangs over my shoulder. A book is tucked beneath my arm. This time, I'm reading the Pucked series by Helena Hunting. Romance and hockey don't belong together, but this series is decent. Perhaps I should listen to Catina's recommendations more often.

In the living room, I toss the blanket on to the couch. I set my book on the coffee table. Next, I search for the remote. It's hiding beneath one of the throw pillows.

"Brenna?"

I jump, spinning around and dropping the remote to the hardwood. In the doorway, I see Mom. She's dressed in her work attire. After covering some day shifts, she's back to covering the night shifts. My mouth pulls to one side. Mom looks exhausted. I've never understood switching shifts. You'd think nurses would promote a healthy work schedule. I know this schedule wreaks havoc on Mom's sleeping patterns.

"Hey, Mom," I say, leaning over to grab the remote.

Mom stares at me. "Didn't you have spin class tonight?"

Making sure the TV is on mute, I turn on the cable box. The pregame show is already on, which doesn't surprise me. Aside from a few cooking shows and Netflix, we only watch hockey in this household. "I stayed home. There hasn't been a lot of time for me to sit down and read a book."

No way in hell am I telling Mom about Hunter and Shea's scheme. Hearing their names in the same sentence will only confuse Mom. I'll have to explain everything. That's not something I want to do right now. Especially considering I have to break the news to her that Shea and I are attending the Winter Formal together.

God, I can't wait to see him in a suit.

I shush my horrible mind.

"That's... Well..." Mom stutters. "I'm happy. Great. Good for you, Brenna."

"I'm tired today," I shrug. "My schedule will be back to normal soon."

Even Mom can hear the lie in my voice. The idea of sitting on the couch and doing nothing is soaking into my bones. Although I love to exercise and be busy, I have to admit maybe Shea and Hunter were right. Glancing at the couch, my cheek twitches. I'm fighting a smile.

Goddamn those two.

Why did Shea have to step in and complicate everything?

Things were easier when he was an enemy.

Looking confused as hell, Mom rubs her cheek and turns around, heading for the kitchen.

"Same, Mom," I mutter, flopping down on the couch. "Same."

I'm confused as hell, too.

About everything.