Evie
The last day. I felt the entirety of my life resting upon this pivotal moment. It was do or die. And it felt like I was dying. I had given my entire soul to finding a worthy client. And no one followed through. I watched the clock wind down. Ten minutes. I had ten minutes to pull off a miracle.
But obviously, I had no such luck. I didn’t have Jasper’s resources and money. All I had was a Jellar report card and a piece of paper that said I could attempt being a lawyer.
“Well, well,” Jasper sighs, popping his head over the cubicle wall. “It’s too bad about the internship, Evie. I almost thought you had it.”
“Shut up,” I growl.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you, Evie,” he says, poking out his bottom lip. “I tried to spare your feelings–”
“I can’t wait for someone to burst your little bubble,” I snap angrily. “Look at you with daddy’s money and daddy’s contacts. You didn’t prove anything to anyone here. I put in the hard work and I put in the time–”
His face darkened. “And look where that got you,” he says grimly. “Nothing but a participation trophy and a pink slip. You’re not anything special because you worked harder. Honestly, Evie. You’re the most naive girl I have ever met.”
I did all I could to stop the hurt from making its way to my eyes. But I could feel it tightening my throat. I stand up quietly, gathering my things.
I was just so tired of everything. I had plans. I was on track to be an amazing attorney. I studied my life away for this, only to be held back by my own lack of personability.
It was all meaningless. It felt like ever since that night, my life has been spinning out of control and I don’t know how to stop it. This was exactly what I was afraid of. All that hard work was wasted.
Maybe I shouldn’t be so surprised. Nothing ever came easy for me. Coming out of high school as valedictorian gave me a false sense of confidence. Everyone had told me I was spectacular as a student. But being a great student didn’t guarantee I’d be a great attorney.
I don’t remember how I got home, only that when I did, Aria was at my door. She leaned casually against the wall, arms folded.
“Hey, stranger,” she says mischeviously.
I took a deep breath, fighting the urge to flip out and lose control of my anger. “Hey, Aria,” I say, forcing a smile to my face. “What’s up?”
“You owe me for ditching me last night,” she grins. “There’s a press conference about to start on ESPN soon. I thought you could make it up to me.”
She holds out a plastic bag for me. “It’s from the burger joint down the block,” she offers.
I couldn’t say no to a bit of comfort food right about now. “French fries?”
She nods. “Extra ranch.”
I moaned. “Fine,” I say, unlocking my door. “You’re a mad woman.”
“Oh, you know you love me,” she snorts.
“Ugh. You know I do,” I whine. “I want that damn burger.”
Aria nudges my shoulder. “Open the door and you’ll get your precious burger.”
I throw open the door and quickly plop down on the couch. I reach for the remote and turn on the tv, searching for the channel. I find it smack dab in the middle of a commercial break.
“Burger,” I order simply.
“Coming right up,” she answers, handing me the paper wrapped deliciousness.
Ripping open the wrapper, I take a bite, moaning at the comfort of the food.
“So,” she says, swallowing her own bite. “How was work?”
I glared over at her. Work was no longer my issue. It was over and I would have to move on. “Pass,” I groan, taking another bite.
She let out a heavy sigh. “That bad, huh?”
“I’m just… over it,” I grumble. “I’m tired of worrying about it now.”
“Oh, thank god,” she says gratefully.
The commercials end and the commentators come back on screen.
“Welcome back, boy do we have a great show ahead for our viewers,” one says excitedly. “We have our reporters down at Clayton Center tonight, looking to get some insight into the Thunderbolt’s very own captain of the year, Timothy Hayes!”
“That’s right, John,” the other commentator nods. “From the moment that kid stepped onto NHL ice, he has been a powerhouse. I mean, right out the gate, he comes in with fantastic speed and accuracy. It’s no wonder he’s been leading this Thunderbolt team to so many victories.”
“Absolutely,” he agrees. “We’re heading in live to the press room to hear what Mister Hayes has to say about the season.”
The camera jumps over to a room with a long table. At its center sat my number one pick for who I’d like to see get slammed into a wall at the next match.
“Mister Hayes,” a reporter shouts. “Over here!”
Timothy smiles, nodding in the reporter’s direction. “How are you, Jake?”
Jake laughs. “Doing good. I’m here with the Independent and I was curious on how you feel your chances are at winning the Stanley this year,” he asks.
Timothy chuckles. “You already know what I think,” he began. “It’s anybody’s to win at this point. It’s early in the season, we still have a lot of games to play.”
“We already know what your publicist wants you to think,” the reporter added. “Tell us what you really think.”
Timothy leans forward in his chair, bringing himself closer to the mic. “The cup is coming home.”
Immediately, more hands fly up. Aria is squealing in giddy.
“He’s just so hot,” she screams.
I had to fight to keep my burger down. “Yea,” I grumble. “So hot.”
More questions were asked. Every answer he gave seemed like the perfect answer to give. From a public relations standpoint. It was hard to not think about how perfect he seemed to be at everything. It was annoying.
It wasn’t until a question perked my ears.
“Mister Hayes,” a woman says. “We all know you’re a big hit with the female fans. But do you have anyone special back home?”
For the first time this entire interview, he looked like a deer in the headlights.
“I–,” he swallowed. “I did have someone. Once.”
“Can you tell us a little bit about her?”
He dropped his head. “Her name was Evie,” he finally answered. “She was special because out of everyone I knew, she didn’t care how many goals I got or how many state championships I won. That was never what defined my worth to her.”
“Evie,” Aria says slowly. “What is happening?”
Truthfully, I didn’t know. I had no idea what this jerk was trying to pull right now. I just blinked at the screen.
“Do you have anything you’d like to say to her,” the reporter asked again.
Timothy nods, finally looking back up to the camera. “If you’re watching this, Evie, you have no idea how sorry I am for who I was. You didn’t deserve to be put through all of that. I was an ass. I think about the day you returned my senior jersey all the time. I should have fought for you.”
The breath was knocked from my lungs.
Countless people across the country watched the scene on TV.
“Evie,” Aria repeats, her voice quiet. “Did Timothy Hayes just say your…”
