The Hockey Boy I Wasn't Supposed To Love

KIMBERLY

There are exactly three rules for surviving senior year.

Don't fail calculus.

Don't trip in front of the entire school.

And whatever you do... don't let Brian Turner get under your skin.

I was failing the third one spectacularly.

The hallway was a whole noise of slamming lockers and laughter as I made my way toward the girls' bathroom, camera bag bumping against my hip. I just needed two minutes of quiet to splash water on my face and reset before AP Literature.

Two spare, peaceful minutes. That was all I asked for.

I pushed the door open and immediately regretted every life choice that had led me to this moment.

Brian Turner -Captain of Brookside's senior high school hockey team. Human headache. Professional menace. Six-foot-something, pure arrogance had Tasha Rowland the self proclaimed queen bee of the school pinned against the sink counter, kissing her..

Or was she the one kissing him?

Whatever.

Don't care.

All I know is that they were kissing like they were trying to win a trophy for it. One of his hands was tangled in her perfectly highlighted hair, the other gripping her waist. Tasha's cheer skirt had ridden up, and she was making these breathy little sounds that belonged in a bad movie.

I paused for half a second, taking in the view. The way Brian's broad shoulders filled out his letterman jacket. The way Tasha's manicured nails dug into his neck like she was claiming territory.

Gross.

And annoyingly well-executed.

I rolled my eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn't get stuck and kept walking like they were invisible. Straight to the sink farthest from their little performance. I turned on the faucet, letting the cold water run over my hands.

"Excuse you?" Tasha's voice cut through the sound of running water, sharp.

She pulled away from Brian just enough to glare at me in the mirror. "This is occupied, Kimberly. Some of us are busy."

"I can see that." I muttered, making Tasha frown.

"Can you leave?" She asked.

I looked around dramatically. "I would... but unfortunately this is still a public bathroom."

Brian let out the faintest snort. Tasha turned to him.

"What's funny?"

He shrugged. "Nothing."

I caught it in the mirror.

"You know staring is rude." He said to me. I raised an eyebrow.

"I wasn't staring."

"No?"

"I was wondering how two attractive people could have absolutely zero shame."

Brian smirked.

"Took you long enough to come up with that."

Tasha huffed. "God, she's such a freak. Always walking around like she's too good for everyone just because she gets straight As. It's pathetic. No wonder she has no friends."

I fake coughed into my fist.

"Raven." I mentioned, reminding her of my friend's name.

I turned the faucet off, dried my hands slowly, and headed for the door. As it swung shut behind me, I caught the tail end of Tasha's next comment to Brian.

"...seriously, babe, why do you even let her-"

The door closed.

Good. I didn't need the rest.

*

The rest of the morning dragged. By the time the final bell rang, I was more than ready to get the hell out of Brookside Senior High.

I stopped at my locker to drop my books, hoping for a clean escape.

No such luck.

Tasha and her three carbon-copy minions were waiting, arms crossed, blocking my locker like they owned the hallway.

"Well, if it isn't Brookside's resident ice queen," Tasha sneered. "Tell me, Kimberly, do you practice that resting bitch face in the mirror every night or does it just come naturally?"

Her friends giggled on cue.

I ignored them, dialing my combination. Tasha stepped closer, her perfume, sweet and expensive.

"You think you're so special, don't you? Quiet little Kimberly Lewis, always buried in books, always acting like you're better than the rest of us. Newsflash.. nobody likes a stuck-up bitch who-"

I slammed my locker door shut and hard.

The metallic bang echoed down the hall and made all four of them jump. I turned, met Tasha's eyes with a flat cold stare, adjusted the strap of my school bag, and walked straight through the middle of their little formation without saying a word.

Behind me, Tasha let out a furious shriek. "Fucking bitch!"

I kept walking.

A few moments later, a familiar voice fell into step beside me.

"Those expired Barbies still getting on your nerves?" Raven asked, her black boots clicking against the tile.

She looked like a beautiful storm cloud -black hair with purple streaks, dark eyeliner, and a sharp smirk.

"Don't even mention it," I sighed, the tension in my shoulders easing a little.

Raven had been my best friend since junior year.

We pushed through the double doors and stepped into the bright afternoon sunlight.

That's when someone bumped into me.

"Whoa...sorry!" A warm, genuinely apologetic voice said.

I looked up into Allen Kings' easy smile. Brian's best friend, but the polar opposite in every way that mattered. Incredibly warm and friendly energy in a letterman jacket.

"No problem," I muttered.

Allen's eyes crinkled with real kindness. "Didn't see you there, Kimberly. You good?"

"Yeah. Thanks."

He gave both of us a quick, friendly nod and headed inside.

Raven watched him go, then nudged me with her elbow.

"Okay, but he's stupidly hot. Like, he comes dangerously close to Brian Turner levels of hot. Makes sense they're best friends, I guess."

I snorted. "Well, one is a shit-head and one actually has sense of reasoning."

"You really hate Brian, don't you?" Raven asked, grinning.

"Are there people who don't hate him?" I shot back.

"Duh. The whole school."

"Then the school is a complete piece of shit."

Raven burst out laughing at my last words For the first time all day, I felt something close to a real smile tugging at my lips.

We kept walking toward the parking lot, the weight of the day starting to lift.

Raven and I went our separate ways and I headed for the black Jeep wrangler parked ahead.

I spotted Brian leaning against the Jeep, scrolling through his phone.

He didn't look up.

"You took your time." He said.

I scowled at him and folded my arms instantly. "I don't remember asking you to wait."

"My mom told me to."

"So blame her."

He pocketed his phone.

"Get in."

He ordered and walked around to the driver's side without another word.

I scoffed, still folding my arms as I watched him get into the Jeep.

Talk about attitude

Tch!

*

The drive was painfully quiet. No music, obviously no conversation. It was just the sound of the engine.

I could've just walked it, at least I'd get to talk with the wind.

A joke.

Don't misunderstand that.

It's not like I go about talking to myself.

An idea - more like a memory surfaced and I finally broke the silence when it became unbearable.

"You know, normal people at least pretend to be civil."

Brian kept his eyes on the road.

"I don't waste energy pretending."

"Oh, I noticed."

Silence again, before..

"You did pretty good with Tasha."

His grip on the steering wheel tightened almost imperceptibly.

"So?"

"So nothing."

"Good." He deadpanned.

I frowned.

Does he think I even care?

"Trust me, your love life is the least interesting thing about you." I said to him.

Brian finally glanced at me. His expression, indecipherable.

"Forget what you saw."

I let out a dry laugh. "You think I care?"

"I said forget it."

"Or what?"

"...Just forget it." His tone was colder this time.

I looked out the window.

"Whatever."

When we got to our destination, Brian got out first.

He unlocked the front door and walked inside.

They say you know a gentleman by his actions.

This one was far from gentle.

I managed to catch the door before it swung shut in my face.

And he actually knew I was following closely behind him.

"Seriously?" I asked, stepping in.

He didn't answer.

I headed for the stairs. He was already halfway up the stairs.

"My mom called." He spoke up

"They're working late." He said again, without looking at me.

"I know." I muttered.

My dad always worked late.

"Food's in the fridge." He said.

"Fine."

I took a step...

"And don't touch my leftovers." I heard him again, making me stop.

I stared like he had offended common sense..

"As if I'd willingly eat anything with your name on it."

He started walking away.

"Oh..."

He paused, without turning around..

"About this morning..."

I folded my arms.

"What about it?"

"I don't want to hear your opinions."

"I wasn't planning on giving them."

"Good."

He disappeared upstairs, leaving me standing there, questioning my life.

Brian Turner.

I glared daggers at where he just left through.

Captain of Brookside High's hockey team.

Every girl's dream.

My personal nightmare.

Arrogant. Rude. Insufferable.

If I had a dollar for every time he got on my nerves, I'd be rich enough to buy another house...

Which would be great.

Because then I wouldn't have to live with him.

Oh... did I forget to mention?

This shit-head is my fucking stepbrother.

And something tells me he's hiding a lot more than just his attitude.