My Brother's Best Friend

NOVA I thought my sophomore year in high school was bad enough. But junior year? It's on a different level. Only God knows how senior year will be. My backpack slides off my shoulder as I kick the door shut behind me. Classes has been brutal enough already... three quizzes, one failed interview attempt with the lacrosse captain, and Mia Thompson hovering around the media room like a vulture waiting for my weakness. Which, unfortunately for me, she'd probably find soon. Because tomorrow morning's publication deadline is hanging over my head, and I still don't have a story strong enough to stay ahead of her. I blow out a breath, rubbing my temple as I walk toward the living room. Maybe I could ask Noah for something. Not willingly, obviously. My older brother treats hockey secrets like classified government information, but if I caught him in the right mood... or half asleep... maybe I could squeeze something useful out of him. A fight during practice. A rivalry. Recruitment

NOVA By the next morning, I’ve slept exactly three hours. Just three hours. Yeah, I counted. It's not because I tried listening to the recording again. Definitely not because of that. And absolutely not because every time I closed my eyes, I kept hearing Enzo's voice. I sip my coffee with my eyes closed. One, two, three... "I'm dropping you off today. Your mom went ahead to work." I open my eyes at the sound of his voice. If it was like every other morning, I'd have a sarcastic comment waiting to be retorted. But it's not like any other morning. It's totally different. So I don't say a word as he rallies around, making his coffee. "What's going on?" He finally glances at me after five minutes. I shake my head. "Nothing." "That's bullshit. Something is up. What's that?" "It's nothing." He raises a brow. "You're not your usual chatty, bratty self. I don't care about you but if Noah gets a hint that you're unwell, it'll affect the game tonight and..." "I'm fine,

NOVA I've never been this scared in my entire life. The fear I feel at this moment is crushing and I fear I might not be able to survive this. Because what the fuck? The recording is not supposed to be on someone else's phone. I used my phone to take it. My fucking phone. It's safe there. Not on Noah's phone. The audio finally does cut off, leaving silence. I look up at Noah's face. It's totally drained off all colour. My relaxed, protective brother who was just joking about scaring off Henry Walker is gone. "Where did you get that?" I repeat. My hands are shaking so badly I need somewhere to tuck them into. Noah slowly lowers his phone. He looks at me, his eyes searching mine, trying to piece together a puzzle that he already knows the layout of. This is what I'm afraid of. My brother might be the funniest person in the room, the loudest of the group, but when it comes down to this? To his best friend and almost brother... I'm sure as hell he doesn't play about Enzo. "

NOVA I take one last look at my room, wondering if I'll ever be able to come back to it, before I grab the handle of my suitcase and drag it out the door. I don't know what to think of Mom's logic. It makes sense, but at the same time it doesn't. I know for sure Noah will be mad at me, but not enough to hurt me, right? I'm his sister. His biological sister whereas Enzo is just his friend. What could he possibly do that's making mom scared for me. The drive to Aunt Joan’s is two hours of silence. I'm not used to this type of silence. Whenever I go on drives like this with mom, we'll spend our time singing along to old school music like our lives depended on it. But, not today. Today, our favorite radio channel stays off. Mom's eyes are darting to her phone mounted on the dashboard every time it lights up with another missed call. I just stare out the passenger window, watching the familiar city landscape blur and dissolve into the rolling hills of the valley. By the time

ENZO Noah flinches and instinctively opens his mouth to defend them... because they’re his flesh and blood, because Sarah is the woman who packs extra meals for me when we’re on the road... but the words die in his throat. He looks down at the floor, tracking his finger along a seam in the tile. "I don't know," Noah. "I want to say you’re wrong. I want to tell you there’s no way Nova would do this, that my mom wouldn't just pack her up and run. But the house was empty, Enzo. Her closet was half-cleared." He looks up, and the helplessness in his face makes the anger in my chest flare hotter. "If it was anyone else? I’d tell you to burn their world down." "Exactly," I say. I lean my head back against the wall of the arena hallway. Three weeks from the playoffs. My draft stock tanking by the minute. The door to Coach’s office opens and Coach steps out, holding Noah’s phone. His face has gone from raging red to pale. He hands the phone back to Noah, but his eyes stay locked on