Collision

CHAPTER FIVE

COLLISION

The next morning, Beck knew something was wrong.

He just didn't know what.

The ice rink was already loud when he walked in. Skates scraped against the floor, hockey sticks clattered against the boards, and somewhere across the arena, one of the coaches was yelling at a player who clearly wasn't listening.

Everything was normal.

Except Aitor.

Beck spotted him almost immediately.

Aitor was already on the ice with the rest of the St. Aurelia team, skating laps around the rink.

Usually, he looked completely in control.

Today, he looked angry.

Not the usual competitive anger either.

Something else.

Beck watched him for a few seconds before Mason bumped his shoulder.

"You staring at Valdez?"

Beck immediately looked away.

"No."

"You definitely were."

"I was looking at the ice."

"Right."

Beck rolled his eyes.

"Just get your gear on."

He pulled his gloves on and stepped onto the ice.

Aitor looked over.

Their eyes met.

For a second, neither moved.

Then Aitor looked away.

Beck frowned.

What was that?

He pushed the thought aside.

Practice began.

And within five minutes, Beck understood exactly how bad the day was going to be.

Aitor was everywhere.

Beck went for the puck.

Aitor got there first.

Beck changed direction.

Aitor followed.

Beck passed to Mason.

Aitor intercepted it.

"Seriously?" Beck shouted.

Aitor didn't answer.

Beck chased him down.

"What's your problem?"

Aitor continued skating.

"Nothing."

"Then why are you playing like you're trying to kill me?"

Aitor stopped suddenly.

Beck nearly crashed into him.

Aitor turned around.

"I'm playing hockey."

"You're playing like a maniac."

"Maybe you're just slow."

Beck stared at him.

"Oh, we're doing this today?"

Aitor smirked.

"We always do this."

Beck's eyes narrowed.

"Fine."

He took off.

Aitor followed.

For the next few minutes, neither of them gave the other an inch.

They fought for every puck.

Every pass.

Every shot.

Every opportunity.

Eventually, Beck stole the puck from Aitor and raced toward the goal.

He shot.

Goal.

Beck turned around with a grin.

"Too slow."

Aitor stared at him.

There was no smile.

No teasing comeback.

Nothing.

Just that strange look again.

Beck's grin disappeared.

"What?"

Aitor shook his head.

"Nothing."

"You keep saying that."

"Because there's nothing."

"Then stop looking at me like that."

Aitor's expression hardened.

"Like what?"

"Like..."

Beck stopped.

He didn't actually know.

Like Aitor was angry with him.

Like he was trying to figure something out.

Like he wanted to say something and couldn't.

Beck shook his head.

"Never mind."

He skated away.

But Aitor watched him go.

Practice ended hours later.

Beck was exhausted.

He walked out of the locker room with his hockey bag over his shoulder, already thinking about getting home.

He wanted food.

A shower.

Silence.

Maybe a movie.

Anything that didn't involve Aitor Valdez.

He reached the end of the hallway.

"Hayes."

Beck stopped.

He knew that voice.

He turned around.

Aitor was standing behind him.

"What?"

Aitor walked toward him.

"Nothing."

Beck stared at him.

"You called my name."

"I know."

"So?"

Aitor shrugged.

"I don't know."

Beck laughed.

"What is wrong with you?"

Aitor's expression changed.

"Nothing is wrong with me."

"Then why have you been acting weird all day?"

"I haven't."

"You have."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

Beck stared at him.

"Are we seriously going to argue about whether you're acting weird?"

Aitor folded his arms.

"You're the one who started."

"I asked you a question."

"And I answered."

"You said nothing."

"Exactly."

Beck shook his head.

"You're unbelievable."

Aitor stepped closer.

"And you're annoying."

"At least I'm honest."

Aitor's jaw tightened.

"Honest?"

"Yeah."

"You think you're honest about everything?"

Beck frowned.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means you act like you know everything about everyone."

"I don't."

"You act like you do."

"Maybe because you make it obvious when something's wrong."

Aitor looked away.

Beck noticed.

Again.

That tiny movement.

That hesitation.

Something was bothering him.

Beck lowered his voice.

"What's your problem, man?"

Aitor looked back at him.

"I don't have a problem."

"Then what's going on?"

"Nothing."

"You're lying."

Aitor's eyes narrowed.

"You don't know me well enough to call me a liar."

"Then tell me I'm wrong."

"I don't have to tell you anything."

Beck scoffed.

"Fine."

He reached for his bag.

Aitor moved at the same time.

Their shoulders collided.

Beck stopped.

He slowly turned around.

"Did you just push me?"

"It was an accident."

"Sure."

"It was."

"You've been looking for an excuse all day."

Aitor stepped closer.

"You think everything is about you."

"Maybe because you keep making it about me."

Aitor's expression hardened.

"Move."

"No."

"Beck."

Beck froze for half a second.

It was the first time Aitor had said his first name.

Then Beck's irritation returned.

"Don't tell me what to do."

Aitor stared at him.

"You're impossible."

"And you're arrogant."

"You've been waiting to say that."

"Because it's true."

Aitor shook his head.

"You're always trying to prove something."

Beck's expression changed.

"What?"

"You heard me."

"What exactly am I trying to prove?"

"That you're better than everyone."

Beck laughed.

"That's rich coming from you."

Aitor's eyes narrowed.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you walk around like you're better than everyone because your school has money and your family has a fancy name."

Aitor went quiet.

Beck immediately knew he'd hit something.

But he didn't stop.

"Must be nice."

"What?"

"Having everything."

"You don't know anything about my life."

"I know enough."

"No, you don't."

"Then prove me wrong."

Aitor stepped closer.

"You think because you struggle, everyone else has an easy life?"

"I didn't say that."

"You implied it."

"Because you act like nothing matters."

Aitor laughed bitterly.

"You really don't know me."

"And you don't know me either."

"I know you need that scholarship."

Beck froze.

Aitor immediately realized what he'd said.

Beck's expression hardened.

"Don't."

Aitor said nothing.

"Don't talk about that."

"I wasn't—"

"You were."

Beck stepped closer.

"That scholarship is my business."

"I know."

"Then stay out of it."

"I didn't mean—"

"You always think you know everything."

Aitor's voice rose.

"And you always think you're the only person who's allowed to have problems!"

The hallway fell silent.

Beck stared at him.

Aitor looked equally surprised by his own words.

Then Beck said quietly,

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Aitor looked away.

"Nothing."

"There you go again."

Beck shook his head.

"You keep doing that."

"Doing what?"

"Acting like there's something you're not saying."

Aitor's expression tightened.

"Maybe there is."

Beck's heart skipped.

"What?"

Aitor looked at him.

For a second, neither of them spoke.

Then Aitor shook his head.

"Forget it."

He turned.

Beck grabbed his arm.

Aitor stopped.

"Don't walk away."

Aitor looked down at Beck's hand.

Then back at him.

"Let go."

Beck released him.

"Then answer me."

"I don't owe you answers."

"Then stop treating me like I'm the problem."

Aitor's jaw tightened.

"You are a problem."

Beck stared at him.

Then he laughed.

"Fine."

He picked up his bag.

"Then stay away from me."

Aitor stepped forward.

"Gladly."

Beck looked at him.

"Good."

"Good."

Neither moved.

The tension between them seemed to fill the entire hallway.

Then Aitor shoved him.

Beck stumbled backward.

Silence.

He looked down.

Then slowly back at Aitor.

"You just pushed me."

Aitor's face was unreadable.

"It wasn't hard."

Beck laughed in disbelief.

"Oh, you really want to do this?"

"Walk away."

"No."

"Beck."

"You don't get to push me and then tell me to walk away."

Aitor stepped forward.

"You're making this bigger than it is."

"You put your hands on me."

"So did you."

"I grabbed your arm."

"And?"

"And that's different."

"Why?"

"Because you were walking away."

Aitor stared at him.

Beck stared back.

Then Beck shoved him.

Aitor stumbled.

Everything changed.

Aitor immediately pushed back.

Beck grabbed his jacket.

Aitor caught Beck's shoulder.

They struggled against each other, angry and reckless, knocking into the wall as years of rivalry finally exploded outside the rink.

"Get off me!"

"You started this!"

"You pushed me first!"

"You shoved me!"

"Because you wouldn't shut up!"

"You're the one who followed me!"

"I didn't follow you!"

"You literally called my name!"

"Because—"

Aitor stopped.

Beck looked at him.

"Because what?"

Aitor didn't answer.

Beck pushed away from him.

"Exactly."

Aitor stepped forward again.

Beck did too.

"HEY!"

The shout echoed down the hallway.

Both froze.

Coach Ramirez stood at the other end with two staff members behind him.

His expression was furious.

"What the hell are you two doing?"

Neither answered.

Coach walked toward them.

"Do either of you have anything to say?"

Beck opened his mouth.

Nothing came out.

Aitor looked away.

Coach shook his head.

"Unbelievable."

He pointed toward the locker rooms.

"Both of you. Now."

"Coach—"

"Now."

They separated.

Beck grabbed his bag.

Aitor straightened his jacket.

They walked in opposite directions.

But just before Beck disappeared around the corner, he looked back.

Aitor was already looking at him.

Their eyes met.

Neither looked away.

Then Beck turned the corner.

And Aitor did the same.

That night, Beck lay awake in his bedroom.

The fight kept replaying in his head.

Every word.

Every shove.

Every look.

He couldn't understand why it bothered him so much.

Aitor had always annoyed him.

That wasn't new.

But this felt different.

Beck rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling.

"What is your problem, Valdez?"

He had no answer.

Across town, Aitor sat alone in his room.

His phone was beside him.

A message from his father.

Another from his mother.

Another from Sofia.

He didn't open any of them.

Instead, he stared at the ceiling.

He thought about the hallway.

He thought about Beck.

And he thought about the question Beck had asked him.

What's your problem?

Aitor closed his eyes.

He wished he knew.

Because whatever was happening inside him had nothing to do with hockey anymore.

And that frightened him more than the fight ever could.