Chapter 3

Chelsey

"I don't think it's here," I sulked from frustration.

I had scattered every part of the dressing room.

Jamie stood up, wiping sweat off her face. "It's risky doing this. We shouldn't have come!"

"But it only proves Reid took my diary," I said.

She raised her hands. Adjusted her jeans. Walked out of the locker.

We had sneaked in under my request.

Tiptoeing quietly toward the exit, my phone notification bell rang.

There's an impromptu editorial meeting ongoing.

My phone almost slipped to the floor if Jamie hadn’t saved it.

"This might mean something. I'm getting kicked out of the editorial house!" I cried out.

"Chels… what if it's something else?"

I took the phone from her quietly.

I headed for the editorial house at the administrative block. A ten-minute walk from the rink.

The fresh evening breeze scattered my hair. My heart hit hard against my chest.

My hands touched the cold door handle. I took a deep breath and turned the doorknob.

My eyes went wide behind my big glasses.

I searched the senior editors' faces. My colleagues' faces. Looking for any expression I could hold onto.

"You should come grab a seat," my senior said.

I forced a fake smile. Shut the door. Scrambled for my chair on the left side.

My closest colleague nudged my shoulder. I just wanted this meeting to end.

"Chelsey," Senior Kate called.

I sprang off my seat.

"No, you can sit!" She said, muffling a laugh.

I obeyed.

Heart pounding.

Head hazy.

"This meeting is about the school hockey team—"

That was all I needed to hear. I'd be getting a rejection letter.

"Chelsey—"

"I—I'm sorry, it wasn't my intention—"

"You got chosen to handle the job. Locker photographing. On-ice photographing as well."

"Why?"

"Well, I thought I might be punished for the outburst earlier today?"

"True. An editorial member doesn't get involved in scandals. But this one is intriguing." She tapped her pen.

"How?" I asked.

"Captain Reid's rules are as high as school rules. You broke it. He didn't flinch. You're the best hand to cover the game with him in it."

"Wait—"

I paused. The words simmered. My eyes fixed on hers.

She nodded.

"What if I decline?"

"You get kicked out of the team. The school body made this suggestion to secure your admission. Considering you're a top psychology student here at Hawks."

Congratulations.

The word poured in from my seniors. My colleagues tapped my shoulders.

I stood dazed. Fingers fidgeting on my white shirt.

*

Jamie raised her head from the sofa. Paused the movie.

"What did they say?"

I stayed quiet for a second, moved to the fridge. Grabbed a bottle of cold water and downed it.

"This action is called suspense!" She said.

I knew she was teasing.

"They kept saying congratulations," I paused.

"Oh… wow, so it's something good!" She smiled.

I didn't.

"How do I even cover the hockey team? You know I hate that game. I was aiming for a documentary on psychology, something I'm passionate about."

My hands were in the air. Her brows furrowed.

"You see!" I said, acknowledging her support.

"I don't think you hate the game. You were always there, front row, last semester for like two weeks?"

I rolled my eyes. "You just don't know when to say things."

I pulled off my sneakers. Made my way up the stairs.

"Sorry, Chels—"

I stopped.

Turned.

Shoulders slumping.

"It's a good job. Bigger pay. Good revenue. That favours me."

She nodded.

"How do I stand Reid? He publicly embarrassed me. He denied our friendship. And now he's taken my diary."

I went silent.

"He will see every single thing I wrote in there."

I smacked my forehead.

"Everything…" Jamie stretched. "Let me hear it. Did you write about loving him?"

"Hell, you're such an asshole, Jamie. He's just a guy I grew to keep close. I love Jack."

That last line.

The stupid smile on her lips faltered. Her nose wrinkled.

She always does that when I mention Jack.

"How could you pick Jack over the school golden boy?"

"You need to love, even once."

"Yeah… obviously. But not his kind. He's such an annoying womanizer."

"That's enough!" I hissed.

*

I pushed my door open. Rested my head against it.

My eyes darted around my bland room—as Reid called it.

And locked on the pink cardboard message.

The one Reid slipped into my textbook during math class.

Keeping you close is a priority.

I smiled faintly. My fingers brushed the words carefully.

Then the memories came flooding.

The loud mockery at the stadium.

Cherry laughing the loudest.

Reid looking at me like I was nothing.

"How can it be true that I know this girl?"

My smile died. My fingers tightened.

I crumpled the card in my fist.

I moved to my bed. Picked up my phone.

I had blocked Reid's number since last semester. But I still remembered his username.

I typed into the search bar: Mason.

His profile appeared. A clutter picture of helmet,stick and gloves.

Mason Ice.

My fingers hovered over the message button.

I hit send before I could stop myself.

“Can I have my diary back?"

A reply came instantly.

"What diary?"

My heart stopped.

Psycho.

I typed again. Angry this time.

"If I don't get it by tomorrow, I'll tell the school what you did in the bathroom."

I hit send. And waited.