The Understatement of the Year by Sarina Bowen Read Free Book Online Page B

Hartley was a nine. That dude worked to include me, and never even seemed to notice he was doing it. In fact, he could earn himself a ten. But I was saving room on the Rikker scale. Maybe I’m a tough grader, but I hoped that the unlikely day would come when somebody actually told me that they were glad I showed up to play hockey here.
    After those two, there were a couple of sevens, and a handful of sixes, like Trevi.
    Graham was in the opposite corner, his big legs visible on either side of a press bench. He was a zero on the Rikker scale. I’d been at Harkness a month, and he still hadn’t looked me in the eye, except by accident.
    His avoidance both weirded me out and made me angry. Unfortunately, I hadn’t handled it well. Instead of ignoring him, I’d begun trying to provoke him, just to try to get a reaction. Any reaction.
    It started the day he’d crashed into me at Coach’s house. I don’t even know why I’d thrown down that ridiculous comment. Was that good for you? Cheesy, much? But even though I’d said something patently ridiculous, he reacted as if I’d threatened his life. He went pale and shrunk back.
    I wasn’t proud of it, but I’d tortured him a few other times, too. He just made it so damn easy. Last week, we’d come face to face in the hallway here at the rink. There was nobody else around. I didn’t say anything, I only blew him a kiss. And I got the same horrified expression all over again. Lately he’d been circling the perimeter of the dressing room just to avoid me.
    But I was always aware of him. When he walked into a room, I felt him, like a change in the air pressure. Just an oblique glimpse of him was all it took to put me on high alert. I didn’t want to be so sensitive to him. It’s just that I didn’t know how to stop. We’d been so close all those years ago. My subconscious just couldn’t get over the idea that we weren’t anymore.
    His laugh was the hardest thing to bear. If he were across the room talking to Bella or a couple of buddies, sometimes I would hear him laugh. And the low sound of his quiet chuckle always crushed me.
    I used to love to make him laugh. And I didn’t know how to quit listening for it.
    “Wow,” Trevi said, turning his head. “That’s trippy.”
    “What?” I asked, shaking off my reverie. “Did you feel it release?” I eased up on the tennis ball that I’d forgotten I was holding. I chanced putting my fist against his body instead, probing for a knot. But I didn’t find one.
    “Yeah. Damn.” He rolled his shoulder a couple of times. “It’s so much better. Awesome.” He stood up and turned around. “Thanks.”
    “Sure thing.” I handed him the ball. “If the knot comes back, you can try it by yourself, trapping the ball between you and the wall. But it’s hard to get the angle just right.”
    He held up his hand for a high five, and I met it. “Thanks, man. Seriously. I’m going to hit the treadmills. You coming?’”
    “Sure.” Maybe Trevi would graduate from a six to a seven on the Rikker scale. As they said of football, mine was a war that would be won by inches.
    I followed him into the cardio room, where I wouldn’t have to look at Graham.
     
    — Graham
    “Yo, Graham. Aren’t you going to spot me?”
    “Sure. Of course.” I hopped over to stand behind Smitty’s head, bracing my hands underneath the barbell. God, I’d been zoning out. Again .
    “So what do you think of our defensive lineup?” Smitty asked just before hefting the bar off the rack. He was a sophomore blueliner. A defenseman, like me.
    What did I think? I only wished I could think. My head was a frickin’ mess. I hadn’t slept a full night since Rikker had sauntered into the locker room. Bella had begun showing up in my room first thing in the morning, rolling me out of bed and looking for empty bottles.
    It didn’t stop me from drinking. But it did make me better at hiding the evidence.
    “Um,” I said to Smitty. Because lately nothing