Not That Girl Anymore

The last person I expected to see greeting me at the retreat facility was Molly Reynolds.

She used to be my best friend. Used to be. Until high school swallowed her whole and spit her out with a crown on her head and cruelty in her mouth. She had traded our shared secrets and late-night calls for cafeteria power plays, aligning herself with the mean girls who made my life hell.

She blinked at me, her expression twisting into a familiar sneer. “Me? Why is a loser like you hanging with a star hockey team?”

I held my ground, even though every part of me wanted to turn and walk away. “I’m their doctor,” I said as calmly as I could manage.

Wesley stepped beside me then, casually possessive. “And she’s killing it so far.”

Coach Dennis wasn’t far behind, his voice cool but firm. “Talk to Dr. Stewart like that again and I’ll be speaking to your boss. Show some respect and carry her suitcase to her room.”

Molly looked like she’d bitten into something sour. Huffing loudly enough to prove a point, she grabbed the handle of my suitcase and stomped away ahead of me.

But the moment the others were gone and we were alone again, she turned, her mouth curling into that same venomous grin I had once feared. “I should have known the only chance you’d have of hanging out with a bunch of hot men was by being their employee.”

I let out a short breath, standing a little straighter. “You’re also working for them, so what the fuck are you talking about?”

She smirked. “I plan on becoming a hockey wife by the end of this retreat.”

The old Grace might have gone quiet then, might have swallowed the insult and waited until Molly left to cry. But I wasn’t her anymore. I thought of the confidence I felt on the train, how it pulsed in me like power. I held on to that.

“Don’t you dare speak to me that way, Molly,” I said.

She blinked, taken aback. “Excuse me?”

“We’re not in high school anymore. I’m not some class nerd you can push around.” I stepped forward, my voice unwavering. “I’m a doctor. I’ve earned my place here. I deserve respect.”

Her lips parted but no words came.

“If we’re stuck together this weekend,” I added, “we’re going to make the best of it. Do you understand me?”

I watched it happen. Her face changed. The shame washed over her in slow waves, stripping away that fake confidence. She looked at me the way people look at someone they used to know and suddenly realize they no longer recognize.

“Fine,” she muttered.

After Molly muttered her half-hearted fine, she turned on her heel and left me standing in the hallway, suitcase abandoned beside my door. I waited until I heard her footsteps fade before dragging the suitcase into my room and locking the door behind me.

I finally exhaled.

I sat on the edge of the bed, fingers curled loosely around the handle of my phone. The itinerary Coach Dennis had sent us last night buzzed through my mind again. I’d almost forgotten about it in the chaos of getting here. I pulled up the email, scanning it quickly.

Our first activity was paintball. Right on schedule. That gave me less than an hour to get myself together.I stood and walked toward the wardrobe. I didn’t want to show up looking like I had something to prove, but after what just happened with Molly, I also wasn’t about to shrink myself. Not for her, not for anyone.

I wanted to look like I belonged out there.

I wanted to look dangerous.

I pulled out a fitted black tank top, one that clung to my curves without apology. Over it, I threw on an army green zip-up, cropped just short enough to tease. I paired it with snug tactical pants in charcoal gray that hugged my hips like second skin and tucked neatly into my combat boots. My hair was braided back tightly, practical, but I let a few strands fall loose on purpose. Just enough to soften the edge.

*****

The paintball workshop smelled like plastic and faint rubber. Helmets lined the wall. Bright vests in neon green and burnt orange hung from hooks like battle flags. The air was tight with energy, the kind that came before chaos. I stood off to the side, adjusting the strap of my vest when Coach Dennis clapped his hands together and stepped forward.

“We’re here to build camaraderie, character, and for Noah and Wesley to get their aggression out,” he said.

Noah scoffed, folding his arms. “I’m not aggressive.”

“I plead the fifth,” Wesley said beside him.

Noah narrowed his eyes toward Wesley, and already, I could feel the rivalry, playful but sharp around the edges. That tension between them was always seconds from sparking.

“Boys, boys,” Molly’s voice sang out like a sour note.

She swept into the workshop in full strut, hips leading the way, a cluster of women trailing behind her like perfume. “Leave the fighting to the field. These are my friends. They’re filling in since the rest of your team got sick.”

My stomach dropped.

Wesley noticed before I said a word. He leaned over, voice quiet enough for only me. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I said quickly, though my jaw was clenched too tight to be convincing.

“You know them or something?”

“Unfortunately.”

He glanced at the group again, then smirked. “Then we’ll have to make sure we beat them into the ground. Grace is on our team.”

“Excuse me?” Molly cut in, her voice lilting in mock confusion. “She’s not part of the Vipers. Why is she playing?”

Coach didn’t blink. “We’re not children. We can play nice with everyone.”

Molly rolled her eyes, already annoyed. “Ugh, fine. But I think we need to make this game more interesting.”

I arched a brow.

“You boys are on one team. Us girls, minus Grace, are on the other. Winner gets to dare the losers to do anything they want.”

One of her clones, tall, blonde, lipgloss and spite chirped, “And the losers have to accept.”

Wesley grinned like a man who smelled blood. “Love it. If you girls lose, I’m one hundred percent making you eat dog food.”

Noah leaned in. “Nah, they should both chug a forty.”

“Ew, no!” Another girl gasped.

Coach raised a hand to settle the noise. “We’ll let Grace decide.”

Suddenly, all eyes were on me.

Molly slid up beside me with a catlike grin, her breath hot with challenge. “Joke’s on you. We’re going to win. And when we do, these boys are taking off their clothes and skinny-dipping with us while you clean our dirty clothes with your tongue.”

My brows lifted. “You’ve been watching too much reality TV.”

“I have this crazy feeling one thing’s going to lead to another and I’m gonna get that hockey boy money.”

“Sure, Molly,” I said, flashing a cold smile. “Keep those dreams alive. Meanwhile, I’ll be living in the real world where your team of girly girls has no shot at beating a professional hockey team.”

Something flickered behind her smug mask. A tremor. A flash of what if I’ve messed up.

She covered it fast, laughing, but I saw it.

“We’ll mess you up,” she said. “You’ll see.”