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Hey, I love your stories and your style of writing đ I was wondering if you could write one on Scott Reed, along the storyline of the series, where the reader was Jeff's girlfriend until his death, and Scott is there by her side and starts to get along with her, but he's hesitant to make a move because he was pretty close to Jeff as well?
MOVING FORWARD?Â
A/N: Trigger warning: character death. I hope you like this. I tried to focus more on the process of moving forward with little snippets. Iâm sorry this took a while, I had to make the parts flow together and it was challenging. I wrote and rewrote it a few times. Sorry if spacing is off, I tried to fix it as best I could. Youâll want tissues and maybe a snack. Itâs a long one.Â
SEPTEMBER
âBabe, you donât have to go. I can go get more beer. You stay here with your friends.â I asked Jeff, who was getting his coat to go on a beer run. Jessicaâs party was in full swing and everyone was here. Even Clay Jensen came, to most peopleâs surprise.
â(Y/N), Iâm good. Iâve been drinking Coke all night. Iâll see you in a few. I love you.â
I sighed as I looked up at his beaming face, âokay, fine. Iâll see you in twenty. Drive safe, I love you too.â I kissed him softly and watched as he jogged out to the car to run to Blue Spot. I decided to go off in search of my friends and found them in the kitchen, arguing with Scott and Monty about who should get the last beer.
âAh, finally. Someone who can break the stalemate. (Y/N), who do you think should get it?â Scott asked me.
âEasy. Me.â I smiled, taking the bottle from the table and opening it.
âBut- you⊠you donât even like beer.â Layla stuttered.
âI know, but it saves me from watching the four of you argue until Jeff gets back. Iâm sure you can last,â I checked my watch, âfourteen minutes without a beer.â The boys groaned and Layla turned to Katie, sighing dramatically. I shook my head as I walked away.
I was alone for a while, just wandering the house. I had seen Clay run out of the party a while ago, followed by Sherri and Hannah a while after that. I played with my necklace, a gift from Jeff for our first anniversary, just people watching, the bottle of Coors still full in my hand. My phone buzzing in my pocket pulled me from my thoughts. âhello?â I asked, not bothering to look at who was calling. I assumed it was Jeff calling to confirm how much beer he needed to get.
â(Y/N)? (Y/N/N)- you- oh fuck.â
âWho is this?â
âI-itâs Clay. (Y/N) you⊠oh god. I called 911 already. Thereâs been an accident.â No. No no no. Please donât say what I think youâre about to say. âJ-Jeff.â His voice cracked. I heard sirens in the distance. I felt as though I was frozen. âTh-the police are here; they want to talk to me. Theyâre calling his parents. Oh god (Y/N/N). I have to go.â
âClay. Clay wait. What happe-.â I tried to ask. He hung up before I could get any words out. It was almost like I had an out of body experience. I lowered my phone and felt the full bottle fall from my grip, shattering on the floor. No one was around to notice, or at least, I couldnât see if there was. I had tunnel vision. Jeff⊠he canât⊠no.
I blinked quickly a few times to try and make my vision normal, as well as keeping the welling tears from falling. Need to find sports boy. I couldnât think of the proper words. Walking back towards the kitchen, I scanned the room for someone in a varsity jacket or a face I could identify as an athlete, hell, I scanned for Montyâs plaid shirt. Something like this should trump the stupid fight we had earlier today. I spotted him over by the fridge, talking to some girl. âMonty.â I said quietly as I approached him. He didnât hear me. âMonty.â I tried again, a little louder. He still didnât hear me, or he heard me and chose to ignore it. âMontgomery.â I said louder, my voice cracking and placing a hand on his bicep. He froze for a second.
âOne second.â He told the girl he was putting the moves on. I watched him turn to face me. As soon as he saw my face, his mouth closed, and his brow furrowed. â(Y/N), are you okay?â Monty asked me, his eyes softening and his demeanor changing almost immediately. I couldnât get any words out now that I had found someone to tell. I just shook my head and waved my arms awkwardly. â(Y/N/N), did something happen? What happened?â
I opened my mouth and my voice cracked. It felt like my throat was trying to open around a peach pit. âJ-JeffâŠ.â Was all I could say. My face crumpled and my eyes squeezed shut, trying my damnedest to keep from crying or screaming. âHe⊠there was an accident.â Montyâs entire face dropped.
âWhat kind of accident?â
âI donât know. I donât think itâs good Monty. We have to⊠I have toâŠ.â I trailed off, trying to find the words to explain that we needed to leave.
â(Y/N) you need to breathe. Letâs go find the guys. Come on.â He said, his face hardening as he pulled me along beside him. I turned to look at the girl he walked away from. She looked royally miffed.
âScott. Whereâs Bryce?â Monty asked his friend. I stood behind him, clutching his shirt tightly to keep myself upright. Had it been any other time, I think he would have minded.
âI donât know, I think he went upstairs. Why?â
âWe need to go.â
Scott looked between Monty and I. âUh⊠do you need permission to leave now or something?â
âNo Scott. We need to go.â Scott looked at me again and he seemed to register the look on my face as not simply having too much to drink. Monty leaned forward to whisper something to Scott. His eyes widened and he sucked in a deep breath.
âOkay. Uh⊠Iâm good to drive, so you go upstairs and look for Bryce and Justin and whoever else. Iâll take (Y/N) to the car.â I clutched Montyâs shirt tighter.
â(Y/N), you need to let go. Iâll be right back. Go with Scott.â He told me, prying my fingers off his person. I heard myself hum and felt Scott guide me out to the car.
He opened the door and guided me to sit down in the passenger seat. âDo you want some water?â he asked, squatting down to my level. I nodded and he went around to the driverâs side. I turned to watch him root around in his gym bag for a water bottle. He walked back around to me and handed me the fresh bottle. I opened it and took a small sip. He watched me, steadying it when I shook too much. My phone rang again, and I looked down to see who it was. Jeffâs mom was calling. âHello?â I asked, timidly.
â(Y/N)? Darling, you need to come to the hospital. There was an accident.â She told me, her voice shaking. I could tell she was trying to get the words out without crying.
âI know. Clay called me. We will be there soon.â I looked up as I saw the group of athletes walking out, confused and somber looks on their faces. Scott waved them over. âOkay. We are on our way to the regional hospital. Let one of us know when you get there and we will come down to get you.â
I nodded before realizing that she couldnât see me. âMhmm. I will.â I squeaked before hanging up. I felt several dozen eyes on me as I stared at my lap. âTheyâre going to the regional hospital.â Was all I said as I turned myself forward and shut the door. It was quiet for a few moments before Scott came around and started the car.
Neither of us spoke until we were about halfway to the hospital. I felt my stomach churn the closer we got. âYou need to pull over.â I told Scott stiffly.
âYou okay (Y/N)?â he asked, his eyes darting to me and back to the road.
âPull over now.â I ground out, trying to keep from heaving.
âOkay, just a second.â He signalled to pull over and stopped the car. In a matter of seconds, I had the door open and was hunched over on the side of the road, throwing up in the ditch. Diego and Monty pulled over as well when they saw me, and I heard Diego call from the Jeep.
âIs she okay? Or like⊠sheâs okay?â
I groaned. âIâve got her, you guys go on ahead.â Scott called back. I wiped my mouth and stood up straight, sending Monty a thumbs up. He nodded and merged back into traffic. I walked back to the car, taking a gulp of water, swishing and spitting it on the road.
âWe can go.â I said and it was quiet again.
Arriving at the hospital and calling Jeffâs mom was a blur. It was also a blur waiting for the doctor and watching his parents argue that I should be there to hear what was happening. I stared at the wall blankly while I waited for news. Some of the guys whispered around me, others prayed, others like me, stared blankly. Finally, the doctor agreed to let me listen and I walked over at the wave of a nurse. The nurse took me into the small room I remembered being in when I was young, and my grandma had passed.
âMr. and Mrs. Atkins, Miss (Y/L/N). I am very sorry to have to tell you this, but Jeff passed away at the scene of the accident. I am sorry for your loss.â I closed my eyes as his mom dropped to the floor and screamed. His dad dropped and pulled his distraught wife into his arms. I took a breath and turned to run from the room. I ran down the hall, ignoring the group in the waiting room. â(Y/N), wait.â I heard someone call behind me. I ignored them. I also ignored the footsteps following me. I have to get out of here was running over and over in my head. I stopped running when I got outside and bent over, placing my hands on my knees. I gulped the air, trying to slow my heartrate and put off the impending breakdown.
â(Y/N)?â a voice spoke from behind me. I shook my head. I knew who was talking to me, but I couldnât make myself speak. âCome here.â Bryce said gently, as though I was a fawn he was trying to approach without spooking. I still couldnât say anything. His hand gently touched my back and rubbed in circles. I began to stand up and his arms immediately went around my middle to support my weight in the event that I couldnât stand up. He held me for a few minutes, while I shook and tried not to cry. I noticed Justin standing at the doors with a broken yet menacing look on his face.
âHeâs gone.â I whispered quietly into the blondâs shoulder.
âI know. Letâs go back inside, yeah? Get you some water and have someone take you home?â I hummed as he tucked me under his shoulder, supporting my weight.
The group of heartbroken boys were still in the waiting room with Jeffâs parents. I couldnât bring myself to make eye contact with them. Monty walked up to Bryce and took me from him.
âIâll take her home.â
âStay with her.â Diego told him, placing a hand on my shoulder and squeezing. Monty nodded and took his flannel off, wrapping me up in it. I took one last look at his parents before turning and walking away, not daring to think of how I was going to have to begin the grieving process for my boyfriend.
I walked up to the school doors on Monday morning and stood there, just looking at it. I was early so there werenât many people outside, but those who were, stared at me and whispered to each other. Jeffâs baseball shirt hung off my thin frame and my black yoga pants hugged my curves, hidden by the shirt. It seemed to be bigger than it was a few days ago. âAre you going to go inside, or do you want to cut today?â Monty asked from behind me.
I jumped slightly. âIâll be there in a minute. I have to be here today.â
âOkay. Iâll wait with you.â He stood beside me quietly until I was ready to walk in. I took a step forward and then another, and another. He fell into step beside me. People stared as I walked in. I guess I should get used to it.Principal Bolan and Mr. Porter were waiting for me at the main office.
â(Y/N), if there is anything the school can do, just let me know and I will handle it.â The principal said. Yeah, sure you will.
âThank you.â I replied, quietly. He nodded and walked back into his office. The appeasing statement has been made. Letâs not appear to care too much.
â(Y/N), you donât need to be here today. Youâve suffered a great loss. Your teachers would understand why you werenât here.â Mr. Porter offered.
I stared at him. Is he serious? âI know youâre trying to help and thatâs great. But I do need to be here today.â I explained.
âWhy?â
âI heard he was drinking, and she let him get in the car anyway.â A girl I had never met muttered to her friend as she passed me. Monty must have seen my features darken and he placed a hand on my shoulder, squeezing. I gestured to Mr. Porter.
âThat is why. I need to get ahead of this. Jeff is-,â I caught myself, âwas a wonderful and well-loved young man, but the kids at this school donât care about that. If I wasnât here, the rumors would be even worse.â
Mr. Porter nodded; he had been here long enough to know how people were. âAlright, but if you want to talk or decide you need to go home, come let me know.â I nodded at him and together, Monty and I walked to my locker.
âDid he really say, âyou donât need to be here todayâ? Like he actually fucking said that?â I asked.
âYup. I heard it too.â Monty said, shaking his head. Clay stopped us in the hall, and I tried to smile at him. It came out as more of a grimace.
âHey Clay. Howâre you doing?â
âI donât know. How are you doing?â
âI changed my shirt this morning. So thatâs something I guess.â I shrugged.
âIâm really sorry (Y/N).â
âI know. Me too. Jeff really liked you, you know.â
âYeah.â Neither of us knew what else to say. âI uh⊠Iâll see you around?â
âYou will. Let me know if,â I paused, âif you want to talk sometime.â
âOkay.â He nodded before making his way to wherever it is that Clay Jensen spends his time. I tried to ignore the whispers as I sighed.
âThis day isnât going to get any easier.â I muttered. Monty shrugged as we walked. No one else really said anything to me as we walked, all of them grieving in their own ways.
âShe isnât left alone today, okay?â I heard Bryce tell the rest of the athletes, who had crowded around my locker. I had to stop myself from speaking up and telling him that Iâm not a child and I can take care of myself. Instead, I readjusted my bag on my shoulder.
âHey Bryce. Guys.â I greeted somberly.
âHey (Y/N).â Bryce greeted, equally as somberly. He pulled me into a slightly awkward but understandable hug. Bryce hugs people when they arenât in shock? This is probably one of the strangest interactions Iâve had with Bryce Walker since⊠ever. I wasnât sure what to do so I just patted his back gently. He pulled away and the group made room for me to get to my locker.
âYou can all stop staring at me any time. Itâs kind of creepy.â I said as I gathered my things. âI know this is a hard day for all of us, but that doesnât mean you need to stare like everyone else.â When I turned back, they were still looking at me. âSeriously, stop. Iâm not going to do anything stupid. I will however, go to my stupid physics class and learn about the laws of motion.â I put my textbooks in my bag and began walking away from my friends. When I didnât hear any of them following, I turned around. âYou coming Diego? Hutcher will get all bent out of shape if we are late, even under these circumstances.â
âI guess so, yeah.â He mumbled, confused before quickly catching up with me.
Between the sad looks from teachers, the boys and their girlfriends following me everywhere, and the whispers from students, my patience with today was beginning to wear thin. It was around lunch time when I heard two girls talking to each other. They must not have noticed I was walking past.
âShe really seems to be milking this grieving girlfriend thing.â
âLizzie, itâs been three days, give her a break. I wonder what it was like. Must have been-.â I had finally had enough.
âWhat what was like? What part would you like to know about? The part where I begged him not to leave? Or when I got a phone call from a kid freaking out? Would you like to know about what it was like gathering all the guy at that party and going to the hospital? Because it turns out a brother dying sobers you up pretty quick.â I paused and looked at their expressions. âNo. No you donât want to know about that. You want to know what it was like listening to his mom scream and cry and beg God to bring her son back. You want to hear about how I havenât eaten in three days because Iâve been crying so much I canât keep food down. And how everyone is staring at me and whispering because apparently Jeff Atkinsâ death is inconvenient for them.â Before I could continue, I felt arms going around my waist and I was being pulled back.
âEasy there Ticat.â Scott Reed spoke into my ear. I struggled for a moment and he wrapped his arms around my waist tighter. Finally, I relaxed, and he let go. I watched him turn to the girls.
âShe lost her boyfriend three fucking days ago. We lost a brother. Have some goddamn respect.â He scoffed and shook his head as he grabbed the bag I dropped and led me towards the door. The girls looked as though he slapped them as we walked away. He passed me his phone as we walked. âCall Monty.â I did as he said and put it on speaker.
âHello?â Monty answered.
âHey. Iâm taking (Y/N) home.â
âWhy? Is she okay?â He asked.
âShe is. At least as okay as we can expect. Itâs everyone else thatâs the problem.â He grumbled.
âWhat happened?â
âIâll explain later. Tell Porter she had to go home for me?â
âI will. Keep me posted?â
âWill do. Bye.â He took the phone from my hand and hung up. We had arrived at his car and he seemed to have calmed down a bit. âSo, home?â I blinked at him, not totally understanding the question. âWhere do you live?â He clarified, slowly.
âOh uh⊠just off Lincoln and sixth.â I replied. He nodded and got in the car. I followed suit and stared out the windshield. âThat was⊠something.â
âYeah well itâs been a long day.â
âI think theyâll be long for a while.â
âMe too.â He replied, sadly. âYou donât want to go home do you?â he asked, suddenly. I was quiet for a while before answering.
âNot really no. My parents are at work and theyâve just been hovering since Monty brought me home. But itâs so quiet.â
âI can stay if you want. Iâm not the greatest cook in the world but I can manage soup broth.â
âYou donât want to go home?â
âNo. Bryce may be a dick a lot of the time, but heâs right. You shouldnât be left alone today. And I can guarantee that I am far better company than some of the other guys. We donât have to talk or anything. If youâre not comfortable with that, I can call Monty back or one of your other, uh⊠friends?â
âYou mean Layla and Katie? They arenât really my friends. Have you seen or heard from them today at all? Because I havenât.â
âI havenât. Why do you hang out with them then?â
âWhy do you spend time with Bryce Walker, Scott?â
âFair point.â He replied, dropping the subject.
We got closer to my house and I spoke again. âItâs the slightly darker grey one up ahead here.â
âAs opposed to the slightly lighter grey houses?â Scott joked. It was a really bad joke, but I felt myself start to smile slightly for the first time in days.
âWell, yeah.â I stated, biting the inside of my lip slightly to keep a straight face. He must have caught himself smiling slightly too because he quickly relaxed his face back to the somewhat somber expression, we all wore today.
âHeard that one before?â
âYeah. Jeff joked about it a lot.â I smiled sadly at the memory. We were silent again as he pulled into my driveway and we walked to the door. Our stuff was arranged neatly by the door and we made our way through the house to the kitchen. Evidently, he wasnât kidding about the soup thing.
âOkay, where do you keep your pots?â He asked, clapping his hands together.
âBottom cupboard by the stove.â I pointed. Iâm really not hungry and this really isnât a good idea. He nodded and set to work searching the kitchen for ingredients.
I decided to leave him be as he fell into what was clearly his zone. When I was upstairs, I decided it might be time to have a shower and clean some of the sadness off of me. It doesnât work like that (Y/N). I shook my head. You think I donât know that? I just need to do something that feels normal. Once I was showered and changed into a clean sweatshirt and bike shorts, I made my way downstairs. At the sound of my footsteps, Scott looked up. âI made you a sandwich. You donât have to eat it if you donât want, but itâs there.â I nodded and sat at the island in front of the bowl of hot soup broth. I took a timid sip from my spoon and sighed. This is really good.
âThank you.â I muttered quietly. He nodded at me as he took a bite of his own sandwich. We ate in silence across from each other. Scott wasnât lying when he said we didnât have to talk if I didnât want to. Once our lunch was done, he pulled out a notebook and did some homework at the table while I turned on the tv at a low volume, pretending to be interested in some soap opera that had been on longer than Iâd been alive. Just like this morning, I pretended not to notice his not so discreet looks to check on me. He didnât leave until just before my mom got home from work. We bid each other a slightly awkward goodbye and I breathed a sigh of relief that I could finally be alone for a few minutes.
The next couple of days at school werenât much better. Bryce was still being⊠nice, which I found slightly odd. It wasnât nice in a creepy way or anything like that. He seemed to genuinely be nice. He walked me to my first class since his was next door, keeping a respectable distance between us at all times. If he saw me in the halls, he would wave at me or nod in acknowledgement. At first, I thought he was being weird, but when I talked to Monty about it, he just shrugged. âThis might be how heâs choosing to grieve. Focus on being nice to you and making sure you know someone is there.â
âI get that, but its Bryce. Usually when heâs nice to a girlâŠ.â
âI know. Heâs annoying and says stupid shit. But heâs my best friend. I know him. Heâs actually trying to be nice to you. Jeff was his friend.â
I sighed. âOkay. Iâm not going to start hanging out with him or anything though. If heâs your best friend, what does that make me?â
âMy person or whatever.â He muttered, going back to his geometry problem.
âI knew you paid attention when we watched that.â I muttered as I went back to my biology notes.
The stares werenât much different, but it seemed like it had started really setting in for people by now. Jeff Atkins, one of their classmates, their idols, their friend, was gone. The snarky whispers stopped, but I wasnât sure if that was because of my outburst on Monday morning or not. I noticed Hannah Baker watching me at my locker during breaks, but I didnât pay much mind to it. Sheâs the girl Clay is in love with and Jeff wanted them to get together sure, but that girl had more going on than met the eye. Jessica and Justin seemed more lovey than usual which sucked to watch but whatever works for them I suppose. Justin and Bryceâs relationship seemed kind of off, but I attributed it to some stupid high school bullshit or having different ways of dealing with death. Diego and I hadnât ever been super close or friendly at all, but he was friends with Jeff and Monty, so I had been around him. When we stopped to talk in the halls or anything, he talked to me just like he always had. We kept it to small talk and school related topics. I was grateful he wasnât walking on eggshells and trying not to say the wrong thing.
Scott Reed was the one person I couldnât wrap my head around though. We were kind of sort of friends. More than acquaintances, but not friends, friends. More, youâre friends with my boyfriend and best friend so thatâs something, friends. We had also worked on group projects together in the past. He seemed to be stuck between trying to help me and being scared to talk to me. I would catch him looking at me from his locker but he would look away quickly in the mornings, but then at lunch or when the halls were quiet, he would try to make me smile or laugh. It was very confusing, especially with my head being so clouded by grief. I knew he wasnât trying to make any moves or anything. Itâs probably just the way heâs processing things. Maybe heâs trying to avoid the issue and this is how he wants to do it. We didnât mention our afternoon at my house on Monday, nor did he insert himself into any grief related outbursts that may or may not have occurred in the last few days. You need to stop thinking so much. This is too much to deal with right now.
** **
I hadnât retained anything we had talked about in school this week. I was too busy dreading this day. I stared at the classic black dress hanging on the door of my closet. It stared back, mockingly. I was in my room, hair freshly curled and pulled out of my face, neutral makeup on, doing all I could to not think about what my plans for the day were going to be just over a week ago. It was shocking how fast plans could change. Instead of a relaxing walk and maybe a game of catch with my boyfriend before dinner, I was getting dressed for his funeral. I rolled my eyes up to try to keep the tears at bay for just a little longer. A knock at my door redirected my attention. âHey.â Monty said from the door. He leaned against the door frame, likely wrinkling his black suit.
âHey.â I replied. I sighed and shook my head.
âAre we getting dressed or are we going to stand here hoping it dresses you on its own?â he asked, stepping into my room.
âI donât know.â
âYour folks are downstairs waiting for you.â
âThatâs good.â
âDo you want a drink?â I turned around to face him as he pulled a silver flask out of his inside jacket pocket.
âNo. Need to be sober for this.â
He nodded and took a swig of whatever it contained. Today wasnât the day to argue with him about drinking before eleven. âDo you need help with the dress or are you good?â
âI think Iâll need you to zip it up.â I muttered, motioning for him to sit on my bed as I took the dress off its hanger, going into my closet to change. I didnât look in the mirror as I passed it on the way to my bed. He zipped it up deftly. I again, decided not to make a comment about how he wasnât usually zipping dresses up.With that taken care of, I slipped on my black pumps and turned around to look in the mirror. âDo I look okay Monty?â I asked, pulling on my sleeves slightly, trying to cover up a little more. He placed his hand on mine to stop me.
âYou look beautiful (Y/N). Stop fiddling with it and letâs go downstairs.â
âI donât want to.â I replied, my voice cracking. Donât cry. Do not cry.
âI know. But we need to.â He sighed. âEveryone will be there. If it makes you feel better, I can even talk to the Jensen kid.â
âClay. And I donât know if it would honestly.â Before we went downstairs, I asked him, âcan I take you up on your offer of flask juice?â
âNot right now. You said you have to stay sober for this.â
I sighed for what felt like the millionth time today and walked downstairs, clutching the railing as I went so that I didnât topple over.
Jeffâs parents asked if I wanted to come early so I could have some alone time to say goodbye to Jeff. When we arrived at the church, his parents, the Priest, and the funeral director met us out front. Jeffâs dad pulled me into a tight hug and whispered apologies in my ear. I rubbed his back softly and apologised back. His mom was quick to pull me in as well. âIâll always consider you akin to a daughter, (Y/N).â She whispered. I had to fight back tears when she squeezed tighter before letting me go.
âIâm very sorry for your loss.â Father Carmichael said as he took my hand gently. They were warmer than I expected for a man his age.
âThank you.â I mumbled. The sentiment was shared by the funeral director and I was ushered off to the waiting hearse. The back door was opened, and I stared at the shiny walnut casket filling the space. It almost didnât believe what I was seeing. It didnât seem real. I placed a hand on the varnished wood, noting how smooth it felt.
âThis canât be happening.â I muttered softly. I paused to wait for a response I knew would never come. âWe promised each other we would have forever.â There was more I wanted to say but the tears were becoming impossible to stop. I hoped that he knew everything I wanted to say already. I wiped my tears quickly before turning around and waiting for the pallbearers to arrive. We were ushered into the church before other people arrived.
â(Y/N), would you like to sit with the family? You practically are to us.â Jeffâs mom asked as my parents went to get some water.
âUmm,â I paused and turned to Monty. He shrugged and nodded. âI guess that would be okay.â I replied, not completely sure of my answer.
âAlright sweetie.â She hugged me again and turned as the pallbearers began arriving. I watched on as the funeral director explained procedure to them. His parents and I were led out of the church once again to follow the casket into the chapel.
The church was packed full. I could hear the quiet loud of a large group chattering with one another at the door. I quickly shut the door on the original idea of a large gathering in this little church. Oh, how that day would have been so different than today. My dad wouldnât already be seated inside, I wouldnât be wearing black, Jeff would be standing at the alter instead ofâŠ. Suddenly we were watching the group of young men carry the heavy casket up the church steps. His cousins were trying to keep their tears in but couldnât help the few that slid out. His uncle had tears streaming down his face. I took a deep breath and began following his mom and dad into the church. When I got to the doors leading to the chapel, I froze. I couldnât make my feet move. Once again, I was bombarded with what should have been. I could feel peopleâs eyes on me but try as I might, I simply could not move. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement coming around the last pew. Scott was standing at my side in a moment.
âOne foot in front of the other.â He muttered as he held his arm out slightly. I grasped it, probably too tightly, but he didnât even flinch. Together, he walked me towards the alter. I didnât bother to think about what people would say about it. People here werenât that callous. I took my seat and took a deep breath as he quickly made his way back to his seat.
Father Carmichael performed a wonderful service for Jeff. I felt tears streaming down my face the whole time. When it was over, I excused myself to the washroom to fix my makeup and have a moment to myself. As expected, Monty was waiting for me when I was done. Not as expected, was the addition of Scott waiting with him. I cleared my throat and pointed to my face. âYouâre good.â Monty said, after a quick once over.
âOkay.â I nodded. I turned my attention to Scott. âum⊠thank you. For what you did in there.â I told him, awkwardly.
âIt was no problem. That couldnât have been easy.â He said. I shook my head. It wasnât.
âAre we going to Jeffâs after this?â Monty asked me. I paused. I should. I really should go. I just donât know if I can.
âI donât⊠know?â I hesitated.
âYou could show up for a few minutes, make a quick round, and say you need to be alone.â Scott suggested. I looked up at him. Could I really do that?
âThatâs not actually a bad idea.â Monty replied, rubbing his jaw in thought. âWe could go to the docks afterwards.â
âFlask empty yet?â I asked.
â(Y/N) (Y/L/N). We are in a church.â He gasped, scandalously.
âI donât mean for now. And thatâs rich coming from you. When was the last time you cracked open your Bible Montgomery?â He was silent and avoided eye contact. âExactly.â
âItâs not. But itâs not like we canât refill it if we need to.â
âOkay. Letâs go.â I nodded. I put on another brave face as we walked out of the church on the way to the grave site to lay Jeff to rest.
We made a quick appearance at the house, during which Bryce gave me another sad hug and I smiled awkwardly at people when they gave me the look I had become so familiar with in the last week. I was able to excuse myself and leave quietly with Monty and Scott in tow. The three of us made our way to the docks, after a quick stop at my place for a flask refill and extra bottle of vodka. I sat on the railing, staring out at the ocean, blankly. My companions flanked me on either side. The metal flask was passed silently between us until it was decided that I was âthoroughly fucked upâ as Monty put it. The burn of the alcohol had stopped bothering me long before that.
âI cannot deny that statement.â I said, watching the waves.
âReady to go home then (Y/N/N)?â
I turned my head to face him with wide eyes, âno. What do you think my parents would say if I showed up at home drunk?â
âToday?â Scott asked.
âI think, given the day youâve had, they would understand. Plus, you were hanging out with me so they know youâre safe.â Monty shrugged.
âItâs the middle of the day. And you have been drinking since before eleven. There is no way you can drive right now.â I closed my eyes to stop the spinning in my head.
âI can drive. I havenât had that much to drink.â Scott offered. It was true. He spent most of his time with the flask, holding it in his hand.
âSee? Scott can drive. Itâll be fine. But if you scratch my car, Iâll beat you.â Monty threatened.
âSure, you will Monty.â Scott laughed. We spent the rest of the day driving around town until I sobered up enough to go home, where I fell asleep as soon as I laid on my bed.
OCTOBER/NOVEMBER
The rest of September and much of October went by in a blur. I often found myself wondering if this was going to be my life now. Was I always going to be the girl whose boyfriend died? The staring stopped after a few weeks. And a couple of weeks after that, people started to move on. It was deemed socially acceptable for everyone else to continue living their lives. Sheri Holland stopped making weird eye contact with me. I wonder what that is about. Clay had seemed to stop openly pining over Hannah Baker. The guys were able to find ways to fill their time without being upset about Jeff. Everything was so⊠normal. The only person who wasnât allowed to move on, it seemed, was me.
Everything was normal. Until Hannah Bakerâs suicide. In the span of two months, Liberty had lost two students. Being a year older than her, we seemed to be more removed from the situation. It was still sad though. Especially when I watched how it was impacting Clay Jensen. Jeff had taken the boy under his wing while he was being tutored. I had asked him about it one night while we were on a date. Jeff had replied in his usual, happy go lucky glass half full tone, that âClay is helping me with my grades and Iâm helping him with Hannah. Theyâre good for each other.â I smiled fondly at the memory. Things were so much simpler then. People still looked at me in the halls. They still whispered when I passed. It became easier to ignore them. The drunk driving posters which had upset me so much when they were posted because I knew that Jeff wasnât drinking that night, were replaced with suicide prevention posters. For the majority of my fellow seniors, Hannah Baker was just a girl. For me, she was just a girl. A girl who my late boyfriend tried to set up with his friend. It was tragic. But in my mind, it paled in comparison to the tragedy I had experienced only a month earlier.
Eventually, everyone else had gone back to normal. Except for Scott Reed. We had never really been friends. I still couldnât wrap my head around it. And while I appreciated what he did for me, both at school and at the funeral, we didnât talk about it. He still didnât really say a whole lot to me. Yet somehow, he was always just⊠there. I would catch him watching me. Or I would notice his ears perk up when I was mentioned as the guys passed me in the halls. Montgomery of all people even noticed. âYou know, Scott was asking about you at practice the other day. Whatâs going on there (Y/N/N)?â He mentioned to me in the library one day. I merely shrugged and waved it off.
âHe hasnât really talked to me, so I donât know.â
**
He was watching me again. His eyes followed me as I grabbed a book for my paper in the library. Stare at me any harder and you might set me on fire. Rolling my eyes, I turned and plastered on my best and brightest smile. Scott looked down and suddenly became very interested in his own book when he noticed me walking towards him. I pulled out the chair across from him and leaned in. âWhatâs your deal, Scott?â
âMy deal?â he said into his book.
âWhy are you staring at me? And why do you act like you arenât?â
âI donât stare at you (Y/N).â
âThen what do you call watching someone from across the hall and across rooms? Hmmm?â
âI uh⊠donât know what youâre talking about.â
âMonty said youâve been asking about me.â
He looked up. âHe did?â
âYeah. So, Iâll ask again, what is your deal?â
âNothing.â He pushed his book aside.
âSure. Whatever.â I huffed. Pulling out my books, I got comfortable. Iâm already sitting here. Might as well take advantage. We were quiet for a while. He was trying not to watch me study. This is the most normal thing Iâve experienced in at least the last month.
âI just want to make sure youâre okay.â
âOh.â
âHe was my friend (Y/N).â
âI know. Thank you. For what you did for me. I realized I never said it before.â
âNo problem.â The bell rang. Packing up our stuff, we wordlessly bid each other goodbye and went our separate ways.
That day in the library wasnât the only time Scott and I studied together after that. One of us would find the other sitting alone at a table or looking for something in an aisle. Our interactions were mostly wordless. A nod here and there when we sat down. Maybe the odd whispered question about homework. A shared chuckle about something we read. We never talked about Jeff again though. It was too hard. Still too fresh for both of us.
Around the middle of November, our silent study sessions began to change. They got a little less quiet. It was like we were walking on soft dirt ground rather than eggshells. We started bringing snacks. âWhatâs in the bag today Har?â
âMini pancakes, chocolate chips, and banana protein bites.â I said, as I opened the containers. I set them in the middle of the table so we could both reach. We were studying quietly, both of us focused on our respective assignments. I could feel his eyes on me.
âI thought we were past this Scotty.â I muttered, smiling into my book. It was Thursday. I did English homework in the library on Thursdays.
âOld habits and all.â
âMhmm. Right.â
âActually (Y/N)?â
âYes Scott?â
âDid you want to grab a coffee at Monetâs or something later?â I stopped writing. His question caught me off guard. âAs friends, obviously.â He added when he noticed my hesitation.
âSure. Say 4:30?â
â4:30 works.â
âOkay.â
I met Scott at Monetâs just after 4:30. We had both gotten stuck behind the same accident. He held the door open for me and even conceded when I suggested we pay separately since it wasnât a date. I got a triple americano with cream and he got a drip coffee with milk.
âItâs like quarter to five in the afternoon (Y/N).â
âI know. But this is my order.â Jeff did the same thing.
âIâm not judging.â
âIt seems like youâre judging a little.â I smiled.
âSwear Iâm not.â He chuckled. I nodded and took a sip of my coffee. We sat at an open booth near the coffee bar. It was far enough away from the table Jeff and I used to sit at that it felt okay to sit at.
Neither of us really knew where to start in a conversation. The ten minutes of silence we sat in, made it exceedingly clear that all we really had in common was Jeff and some shared classes. I decided to break the ice. âAside from football, baseball, and making soup, what else do you like to do for fun?â
âVideo games but I donât think thatâs the answer youâre looking for. Hmm. I like driving into the city to go to the movie theater and seeing whatever is playing next.â
âNo, it wasnât. Expected that answer. Random movies sounds cool.â
âYeah. What about you?â
âI volunteer at the local animal shelter. Whatâs the weirdest movie youâve ever seen doing that?â
âCentral Intelligence, easy. It came out last year. It wasnât a bad movie exactly. The Rock and Kevin Hart were in it. Just not my thing.â
âHuh. I heard about that one. My cousin went to see it. She didnât like it much either.â
âGlad to know Iâm not alone. What do you do at the shelter?â
âOh, you know, walk the dogs and puppies. Pet the cats. Clean up the odd accident. Aside from that last one, itâs pretty nice. Itâs the best when you see a friend whoâs been there for a while or longer, finally get their forever family and forever home.â
âOh yeah? Whatâs that like?â
âItâs hard to describe. Most of the dogs get this smile and almost are able to breathe normally again. The cats get cozy in their carriers or their box. Itâs really adorable. Theyâre content.â
âThat sounds like itâs really rewarding.â
âIt is. You could swing by sometime if you want. See the animals.â
He seemed skeptical and I was worried I had overstepped. I know itâs been a while since Iâve dated, but this is just as friends. So I shouldnât be worried about overstepping. âAre you sure thatâs okay? Like youâre allowed to do that?â Oh, I see. Thatâs a relief.
âFor sure. It gives them a chance to socialize. Donât worry, the dogs and cats that have issues with people arenât ready to be put on the adoption list or in the adoption section until theyâre able to be around people safely. Any interaction with strangers is beneficial too so they arenât as freaked when people come to look at them to potentially adopt. Plus, who doesnât love to play with puppies and kittens?â
He laughed heartily. âIâll think about it. Might have to take you up on your offer. What about the other animals?â
âOh, Iâm not really comfortable handling the birds and stuff so I kind of stay away from there. Itâs not a problem for the shelter. They donât want you to be uncomfortable or afraid.â
âThat makes sense. You can tag along for a random movie sometime if you want.â
It was my turn to be slightly taken aback. âIâll think about it. It sounds like a lot of fun.â
âDid you finish that already?â He nodded towards my now empty mug.
âYes. It was delicious.â
Scott chuckled to himself softly. We still werenât sure what to talk about, because we didnât know what we had in common aside from Jeff and school. Somehow, we found things to talk about and the hour we expected turned into two. He looked at his watch. âMy folks are expecting me for dinner in approximately no minutes. I should get going.â I checked my phone and my brows rose.
âI should get going too. Before they send the cavalry to find me.â
âLibrary tomorrow?â
âYeah, sure Scott. Iâll see you there.â On my way home, I realized that for the first time in months, I hardly thought about Jeff this afternoon.
Our study sessions changed again after our not a date just friendsâ coffee. Things were less awkward, and it seemed like we had found our footing for the most part. We talked to each other in the halls more and Scott had finally stopped watching me like a hawk. We were even cracking jokes with each other. He had begun treating me like everyone else was. Like I wasnât going to break if he or someone else said the wrong thing. Like I was (Y/N) and not the girl whose boyfriend died.
DECEMBER
I arrived at school later than usual on a Tuesday morning. It had been a little under three weeks since our coffee not date. I immediately noticed Scott at his locker. His bag was slung over one shoulder and he was wearing his varsity jacket. He was talking to Mike. Mike was a senior in my Spanish class. I didnât really know him all that well outside of that. I didnât realize they were friends. When I walked past his locker, I overheard them talking about me.
âWhy donât you go for it and ask her?â
âI donât know man. Sheâs really great and all butâŠ.â
âShe was Jeffâs girlfriend. I get it.â
âHe was my friend. I donât want to overstep.â
âI know.â Mike said. I wanted to hear more of what they were saying so I bent down and undid the heel strap on my wedges. I fiddled with it while they talked. âThis is going to sound horrible. I realize that so donât hate me. I miss him as much as the next guy. I really do. But⊠Jeff isnât here anymore, Scott. Heâs gone.â Youâre right Mike. That is horrible. âThere isnât really a line to overstep. Itâs not like anyone can do anything to fix it. It just⊠is.â
âBut do I want to be the guy who asks his dead friendâs girlfriend on a date?â A date? My cheeks flared. I couldnât say that the idea hadnât crossed my mind that Scott was an option. I had just felt absolutely terrible for it as soon as I did.
âMaybe you need to be. Maybe that could help both of you.â
âHelp us what Mike?â Scott asked, the unease clear in his tone.
âHelp you moveâŠâ Mike paused, âon isnât the right word. Forward? That sounds better. Help you move forward. She needs someone and from what Iâve seen, she has Monty, those two girls who basically stopped talking to her after Jeff died, a couple of randoms she doesnât seem to like that much, the baseball team-but it seems like they keep her around out of pity. And you. She has you.â
âAnd how would asking her on a date help me?â
âYou have Monty, Charlie, and the baseball team. You think I think you like the rest of the team?â
âNo.â He admitted.
âExactly. And you have her. Jeff was your friend. He was her boyfriend. And he died. You both need someone to get through that. Because going through it when you feel like youâre alone, sucks. Besides, (Y/N) doesnât strike me as the kind of person to stop being friends with someone if they ask her out and she isnât interested in that. So, either way, she wonât not be in your life.â
âI guess youâre right.â
âCourse I am. Now, go. Go shoot your shot. I gotta get to math.â
My eyes widened when their conversation ended abruptly like that. I wasnât prepared. Quickly, I stood and sped off to my own locker. I had barely had time to open it and pretend to look for something before Scott was behind me. âHey Ticat.â
âOh, uh. Hey Scott.â
âWhatcha looking for?â
âBook for English.â
âCool, cool.â
âMhmm.â Oh my God this is awkward. Please donât ask. I donât know if Iâm ready for that yet. Someone pulled my attention away before Scott could say anything else.
â(Y/N)!â
âWhat?â
âMonty and Alex just got into it in the parking lot. You have to come see this.â Once again this morning, my eyes widened. Theyâll probably stick like this if it happens again today.
âIâll be right there.â I turned to Scott, abandoning my bogus search, âI uh⊠I need to go take care of that. I donât know if Iâll be able to study today.â Or tomorrow. Or the next day. Or the day after that.
âNo problem. Go. Iâll see you later.â
âOkay, text me.â I called as I ran off.
I skipped our study sessions for the next week and I was cautious with our texts. It was like we were back at the beginning of our friendship. Could you even call it a friendship? Well, technically Friday wasnât skipping. I had a doctorâs appointment. Scott didnât appear to pick up on the change though. I wasnât sure if it was because he was oblivious, like most other boys, or if he was just as freaked out as I was by the idea of dating. I used the time in the week that I should have been studying and would have been spending with Scott, to think about him. I thought about how easy our conversations had become and how comfortable and normal I felt with him. The way his piercing blue eye shone when he laughed. Or the way they narrowed slightly when he was silently judging some stupid comment his friends made. About how white his teeth were. The way he smiled when he finished a difficult homework problem. About how soft his hair looked. Oh dear. Iâve got it bad.
I texted Scott the next morning. Library this afternoon? He answered about half an hour later, while I was eating breakfast.
Sure. Iâll save you a seat.
Cool. I have leftover chocolate chip cookies.
In free period, I found Scott at a table in the corner of the library. His stuff was spread out on what looked like exactly half of it. There was a clear divide of where his stuff ended and where the free area was. Did he save half of the table for me? He looked up from his notes when I sat down. âHey Ticat.â
âHey Scotty. Howâs the,â I paused and looked at his notes, âcalculus coming?â
âItâs coming. I have a test tomorrow and I have no idea how Iâm going to pass.â
âI can try to help you?â
âIâll see how far I can get with this and go from there?â
âOf course.â I pulled out my geography notes and the cookies. We easily fell back into our usual silent study. It was like I hadnât been bailing on him for a week.
When the bell rang, we packed up our belongings and snuck sly glances at each other.
âWalk you to class?â
âSure.â I nodded and threw my book bag over my shoulder.
âHow have you been this week?â
âYou know. Busy.â
âYeah. How was the doctor?â
âGood. I got a clean bill of health.â
âThatâs good.â I cleared my throat, awkwardly. What happened to the way things were last week? âHey (Y/N). Uh, did you want to maybe see a movie sometime?â
âA random see whatâs playing next, movie?â
âSure. Or, you know. You could pick a movie and we could see that.â
âScott?â I stopped walking and stepped to the side of the hall.
âYeah?â
âAre you trying to ask me out?â
âWhat would you say if I was?â I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing.
âIâd say I thought you would be much smoother and more direct. And also, I think I would like that.â
âSaturday afternoon?â
âSure. Saturday works for me.â
âAwesome.â He stepped back into the crowded hall and walked me to class. Maybe Mike is right. Maybe this will be good for us. For me.
Saturday morning, I got up early to get ready. We had decided he would be at my place at 12:30. Since it had been so long since I had been on a first date and⊠and my last date had been with Jeff, I was more than a little anxious. I wasnât sure what to wear. I wasnât sure how to do my hair. I couldnât call anyone to ask because I wasnât sure I wanted to tell people I was going on a date. Staring at my closet didnât really help the indecision. Jeans? Do people wear jeans on a first date? I pulled a few pairs out. A skirt is too formal. And I donât want to make the wrong impression. Shirt? I need to wear a shirt. Flicking through the hangers, I picked a couple of choices that were nice but not too nice. Options in hand, I laid them out on the bed. The jeans were easy to pare down to one choice. I went with a comfortable pair of Leviâs. Again, they were nice, but not too nice. A safe choice. I ended up choosing a striped high neck tank top and grabbed a black cardigan to wear on top. Pulling a pair of flats out, I slipped them on and fixed my hair. I side braided it quickly and pulled a few pieces out to frame my face. It looked effortless. Presentable and like I thought about it, yes. But still effortless, nonetheless.
The doorbell rang just before 12:30. âIâll get it!â I called out to my parents in the other room.
âK.â Mom responded. I hopped over to the door. Scott was standing on my porch with his hands in his pocket. His usual varsity jacket was traded for a simple grey hoodie.
âHey (Y/N).â
âHey Scott. Just let me grab my purse and we can head out?â
âSure.â Purse in hand, Scott and I walked out to his car. He opened the door for me, and I smiled shyly at him. Why are you acting so shy? Itâs Scott Reed. Itâs not like youâve never spoken to him before. Oh, I donât know? Maybe because Iâm going on a date with him?
âYou look⊠really pretty.â
I blushed and looked down briefly. âThank you. I wasnât really sure what to wear, to be honest. You look pretty too.â I realized what I said, as soon as the words left my mouth. I canât believe I just said that. Oh, my word. Scott burst out laughing. âUh. I mean. Handsome. You look handsome. Very put together.â
âNo, no. Iâll take pretty. Iâm confident enough in my manhood that itâs a compliment. Not every day a girl calls me pretty. Let alone one Iâm interested in.â
âTrust me, it happens. It might not be to your face. But it does happen.â
âIâll take your word for it.â We were quiet for a time. My face was still pink from embarrassment. âDid you have any particular movie in mind?â
âNo, not really. I thought we could give your whatever movie is next thing a go?â
âI like the way you think. As long as it isnât 2001. Because there isnât a more boring film in existence.â
âOh my God, I know right? I had to see it with my cousin once for âfamily bonding timeâ and I fell asleep like twice.â
âYour family does bonding time too?â
âUgh. You donât even want to know.â I sighed dramatically.
âTell me about it next time?â Woah. Next time? That⊠doesnât actually sound that bad.
âNext time? We havenât even gotten through a movie together and youâre already talking about next time?â
âWell- I- uh- we-.â
âScott. Relax. Ask me again on the way home?â
âOkay.â He sounded relived.
When we arrived at the Crestmont, the ticket person was staring blankly out the boothâs window. The joys of the Saturday afternoon shift, I guess. âWelcome to the Crestmont.â
âHi. How are you?â Scott asked the boy. His name tag read Andrew.
âGood. And you guys?â
âGood.â We answered together.
âHow can I help you?â
âCan we get two tickets to whatever is playing next?â
âTwo tickets to Ferdinand in not 3D. Thatâll be ten dollars please.â Scott handed him the cash and I took the tickets. âEnjoy the show.â
âThank you.â I said.
Inside, the concession worker greeted us in a much kinder tone than the ticketer. âAny chance youâll let me pay for the snacks?â
âNot even a little.â
âOh, come on Scotty, you drove and paid for tickets. The least you could do is let me pay for snacks.â
âNo, Iâve got it. Donât worry about it Ticat.â
âPlease?â I looked at him with my best puppy dog eyes. I could see the resolve begin to crack. âPretty please?â
âUgh. Fine. You can buy the snacks.â He caved, dramatically.
âYay.â I said, softly. The cashier looked like she was trying not to laugh but she was smiling. âHi. Can I get a pack of gummy bears and a medium Cherry Coke, please?â I turned to Scott, âare we sharing popcorn? I donât really eat very much.â
âThat sounds good.â
âOkay. And a large popcorn. And whatever he would like.â
âCan I get a pack of sour patch kids and a medium orange Fanta, please?â
âComing right up.â I paid her and caught Scott grimacing in the corner of my eye. The puppy dog eyes always work. With our snacks in hand, we found some decent seats, given the time of day we were there. The movie was adorable. While it was technically for children, I found it to be incredibly heartwarming. Somewhere around thirty minutes into the film, our hands found each other on the shared armrest. We turned and smiled shyly at each other.
After the movie was done, we walked back to his car, hand in hand. It felt strange but also kind of nice. âIâm getting snacks next time, if I have to steal your wallet.â
âScott Reed, commit a crime? Why I never.â
âYouâd get it back after the movie.â
âFine. But I thought next time was when I got to bore you with family bonding time stories.â
âOnly because I get to bore you with mine. And fine. Then the third date.â
âItâs a date.â
JANUARY
Scott and I had been dating for about a month by now. We were keeping it on the down low. I wasnât ready to announce to people that I was no longer the sad, grieving, heartbroken girl who was destined to be alone that they thought I should be. Scott understood that. As far as anyone at school was concerned, Scott and I were just friends. We had already been studying together so it wasnât out of the ordinary that we were still doing that. They must have missed all the coy or longing glances we shot each other. If anyone saw us together outside of school, they assumed we were just helping each other through Jeffâs death.
Scott and I were on a date at Monetâs. It was a Sunday afternoon. It was abuzz with patrons looking for an afternoon pick me up after church or brunch. But to us, it may as well have been empty. We were still in that âwe are the only two people who exist when we are togetherâ stage. Scott had just gotten back from ordering us a couple of refills. He had memorized my order already. I thought it was the sweetest thing. âSo, weâve never really talked about it but,â he paused. Oh no. Please donât ask about Jeff. Iâm not ready to get into all of that. And I donât want to do it in public. Iâm going to cry. I know I will. âyou and Monty seem pretty close. Whatâs the story there?â Oh, thatâs it? Just Montgomery? Phew.
âNot really much of a story. We grew up next door to each other before my parents moved across town in eighth grade. His family moved in about a year after mine did. I kind of took him under my wing, especially as we got older. There werenât many kids our age in the neighbourhood. Or at least, none our moms would be okay with us spending time around. So, we had each other.â
âInteresting. He never mentioned it.â
âWell, he likes to keep his home life⊠private. OrâŠ.â I paused, unsure of how much Scott knew. It wasnât my place to air that information unless necessary. Which, if you ask Monty, was never.
âAs private as he can when his dad is his dad.â
âYou know?â
âYeah. Heâs crashed on my couch a few times. And itâs kind of hard not to notice the bruises.â
âYeah. Unless youâre and authority figure at school in this town apparently.â I muttered, bitterly. Scott scoffed in agreement.
âYour parents neverâŠ?â
âOffered to help? Of course, they did. He always refused. And as long as he knew he could escape to our place and be safe, they felt it âwasnât their place to interfereâ.â I rolled my eyes.
âI see.â He nodded, rolling his eyes too. âMy parents are the same way. Give the kid a safe place for the night, some breakfast in the morning, and send him on his way.â I nodded.
âAnyway, yeah. We grew up together. Even though we are a year apart, it never really affected our friendship. Things were a little harder for a while after we moved. But that only lasted a few weeks. Everything went back to normal soon enough.â
âCool. Itâs good that he has you. The other guysâŠ.â
âCan be terrible excuses for human beings?â Scott laughed and smirked into his cup with a raise of his brows.
âYeah. Thatâs one way to put it.â
âYou know, itâs weird. Because I saw it from the outside looking in, in freshman year. And then when Jeff and I started dating in sophomore year, I got to see it from the inside to a degree. I never understood how Jeff did it. Or how you do it.â
âWhat do you mean?â
âWell. You and Jeff are so⊠good. Like inherently good. I get the teammates and âyouâre like familyâ thing. But you guys are so different from the rest of them. And I see it with Monty too. Because I see the him that he doesnât want the guys to see. The decent him. But he fits better I guess because I know he can have his, letâs call them moments. I never understood how you could stand by and watch it. Iâm not trying to attack you or anything. Just so we are clear.â
âNo, no I know. I guess⊠I guess itâs because you donât want to be the odd guy out. Even though Jeff never said or did anything, he was still looked at like a brother. He was able to stay in the background with all of it and almost be the glue that kept the team from falling into complete debauchery. He gave us a shred of decency. So, everyone else had something to look to. Whether they always listened to the âAtkins Voice of Reasonâ or not is a different story. I learned a lot from him and now itâs my turn to be the voice of reason. Itâs a fine line and it can be hard to walk sometimes. But someone has to.â
âI guess that makes sense.â I nodded. We spent a little longer talking about lighter topics before parting ways. We snuck a few kisses in the alley beside the building first though.
FEBRUARY
Since we had started dating, Scott had come by the animal shelter a few times to help out. He said it was to see me. I saw right through his lies. He mostly just wanted to play with puppies for a few hours. I didnât blame him though. I would do the same thing. He surprised me on a Wednesday evening. I came back into the shelter from a walk with a German shepherd and a rottweiler. It was a long one, so they were happy to be back so they could lounge around and beg for attention. When I entered the kennels, Scott was sitting in the middle of the puppy room, surrounded by a puddle of puppies. He was being attacked by fluff. One of the labs, Daisy, was trying to scale his chest to lick his face. A terrier mix, appropriately named Jack, was trying to get his attention by gnawing on his hand. He was giggling and had the absolute brightest smile on his face. A loud bark tore my attention away from him. The rottweiler was apparently upset that I wasnât paying attention to him. âOh, Iâm sorry Rascal. Did you need something? Do you need some attention?â I cooed and reached out to rub his head.
âNeed some company? My shift is over.â I asked as I walked into the room and shut the door firmly behind me.
âAlways. How was your evening?â
âIt was good. Only had to deal with a few accidents. How was practice.â
âIt was alright. We had more than a few accidents.â He chuckled. Daisy had appeared to have managed the climb and was cuddled against Scottâs chest.
âI see youâve made a new friend.â
âIt looks like I have. Sheâs very cute. Think I could convince mom and dad to let me bring her home?â
âWith you going off to college next year? I donât think so.â
âDamn. At least that one has stopped trying to eat me.â He nodded towards Jack. He was curled up in a ball in his lap, sound asleep. The rest of the puppies were either sleeping now or trying to get attention from me. I shared the pets and love as equally as I could.
âYeah. He hasnât learned all of his manners yet. Eating people is not the most polite thing to do when youâre trying to get adopted.â We laughed quietly together. After another half hour, it was time to call it a night and head home.
A couple of Sundays after the puppy puddle, I decided I was ready to take a big step. I was finally ready to go and see Jeffâs grave with Scott. I had been on my own before and it had been hard. I would sit and talk to him for hours. I couldnât tell him about Scott though. I felt like we had to go together to do that. Depending on what you believe, he probably already knew about us. But I wanted to tell him anyway.
I called Scott that morning. âHey. Are you busy later?â
âHey Ticat. No, Iâm not. Why? Something on your mind?â
âYeah. I was wondering if you wanted to go to Jeffâs grave with me today. Tell him about us?â
âAre you ready for that?â
âI think so. Itâs time. I feel like itâs time for him to know. I need to tell him, but I donât want to do it alone.â
âOf course, (Y/N). Iâll pick you up at one?â
âOkay.â
I decided to wear a skirt and a flowy top today. It was a nice day out. Scott picked me up and we stopped at the florist for some flowers. Jeff always got me purple tulips, so I grabbed a bouquet of them to leave on his headstone. At the cemetery, I walked hand in hand with Scott. We were both silent as we wandered through the maze of peopleâs final resting places. When we passed Hannah Bakerâs grave, I took a single flower out of the bunch and placed it on her headstone.
It was both so long and yet much too fast before we were standing at the foot of Jeffâs grave. I neatly placed the flowers on the base of his headstone. Someone must have been by to visit recently because there was a worn-out baseball cap hanging off the corner. I could feel Scottâs eyes on me as I sat down and smoothed out my skirt. Since I normally came alone, I wasnât really sure where to begin or what to say. He sat down beside me but didnât reach out to take my hand. He was letting me do everything in my own time.
âI donât know if you can hear me, wherever you are. But Iâm choosing to believe you can.â Scott started after I hadnât said anything. âI miss you. Everyone misses you. Coach Rick is still the same hard ass heâs been. We are hanging your jersey before our season opener. Thereâs some argument about if it should just be the team or if we should do it at the pep rally. I think you would want it to just be us.â
âMrs. Davidson finally stopped reading out loud to us in Literature this week. Remember how she would just go on, and on, and on about the smallest, most insignificant details? And we donât have to listen to her boring, monotone voice read every class now.â
âWe have a chance at making state again this year. It wonât feel the same without you though. The guys are going a little crazy but Iâm keeping things together. I think (Y/N) being around helps though. She really is amazing man. You have no idea how lucky you were to be with her. Or maybe you do. With the way you paraded her around like she was your pride and joy.â
âWe really had something special. And I wish you were still here to keep sharing it with me. But you arenât. And eventually, that will be more okay. And it will hurt less. But for now, it sucks. And it hurts. But Iâve started learning how to get through it. And I have help.â I reached out to take Scottâs hand in mine. He squeezed it. âScott has been there for me every step of the way. Even the times when I wouldnât be there for me if I were him. Heâs seen it all. Heck, heâs seen me puking on the side of the road.â
âOr getting piss drunk at the docks.â I pushed him lightly.
âYes. And heâs shown me that even though it hurts, I can let someone in again. I can be happy again. Weâve been together for a couple of months now. Itâs harder some days than others. But heâs always there for me, no matter what. I understand why you liked him so much. He makes it hard not to. I see parts of you in him and it makes me smile on the hard days.â I had to pause because I was getting choked up.
âI see why you loved her so much. She makes it hard not to. Sheâs kind and smart and selfless. Even when she doesnât need to be, she is. I wish I didnât have to be, because you should still be here, but I am so thankful that I have the privilege of being with her. I hope you know that I will take care of her and I work every day to make her feel as loved and important as you made her feel. Our story canât compare to yours, but I hope it makes you proud.â My tears had started to fall, and Scott pulled me into his lap. I cried into his shoulder. This was so much harder than I thought it would be. I miss Jeff. When my tears were under control, I looked at Scott for a moment. I looked back at Jeffâs headstone and was silent for a while. I was the first to stand. Brushing the dirt off my skirt, I reached out for Scottâs hand. He stood behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. I moved the ball cap on top of the flower stems so it wouldnât blow off in the wind.
âI love you.â I whispered. Turning around, Scott and I walked back to the car silently and drove home in somber, yet comforting silence.
MARCH
I was asleep on Scottâs chest when my phone began buzzing on the bed beside me. I slowly woke up and groggily searched for the unexpected noise. âHello?â I whispered; my voice thick with sleep.
â(Y/N)?â Montyâs voice came through the other end of the line. He sounded like he was in immense pain. I sat up slowly, so I didnât wake Scott.
âMonty, whatâs wrong?â
âMy arm. It really hurts. My old man. I, fuck, I donât think I can drive. Can you come help me?â
âUhâŠâ I paused, looking at the man sleeping soundly beside me. âYeah. Give me fifteen, twenty minutes.â
âOkay.â He said before he hung up.
I noted the time before waking Scott. It was just after one in the morning. âScott.â I whispered, shaking him slightly. He grunted in response. âScott, wake up for a second.â I urged again.
âHmm? Whaâs goinâ on?â he mumbled as he woke up.
âI need to go take care of something. I donât know when Iâll be back. You can stay here and go back to sleep. If Iâm not back when you wake up, you can go home or you can stay here. If you stay there is cereal in the cupboard, and K-cups under the Keurig. Iâll be back as soon as I can.â
âOkay (Y/N).â He muttered, already falling back asleep.
After quickly changing into a clean shirt and sweatpants, I ran downstairs. I left Scott a note on my dresser so he wouldnât be too confused if he didnât remember my telling him goodbye. I pulled up in front of Montyâs house and we drove silently to the hospital. I really hate it here. âWhat are we telling them this time?â I asked after I paid for parking.
âSex?â
I blinked at him slowly. âWhat the hell kind of sex results in a possibly broken arm?â
âThe really kinky kind?â
âPick something better.â
âI fell down the stairs?â
âAlright. That could be believable.â With that, we made our way into the ER to have his arm fixed. We waited an hour to be seen and then another forty-five minutes for an X-ray.
âIt looks like you wonât need surgery. I will need to cast it though.â The doctor advised.
âAlright.â Monty replied calmly, the pain meds having done their job. The doctor produced a bin of colours to choose from.
âPick a colour and Iâll have you on your way soon.â He looked through them and decided on blue. Once wrapped and we were going to be on the way, the doctor added, âturn on the light next time.â
âWill do Doc. Thank you.â Monty replied and waved with his good hand.
Once we were in the car and on the way to my place, I realized I would need to explain Scott being over to him. Just tell him. I sighed before speaking. âHey, so my parents are out of town, but youâll need to sleep in the guest room.â
âUh⊠okay? Why?â he asked.
âBecause?â
âBecause why?â
I felt my face heat up a bit. âUm⊠my room might already be⊠occupied?â I squeaked. I peeked over and his eyes widened.
âYou meanâŠ?â
âMhmmm.â
âWho is it?â
âScott?â I said, my voice raising an octave or two. Monty breathed out a whistle.
âAre we okay with that?â
I paused again, thinking. âYes. Yeah, we are.â
âWell alright then.â he replied, leaning back and getting comfortable in the passenger seat. The house was quiet when we got back around four-thirty. Monty was tucked in the guest room as I slinked my way back into my own room. Scott was still sleeping soundly in bed. I crawled in beside him and went back to sleep for a few hours.
The following morning, I woke up and quietly made my way downstairs for breakfast. Monty followed not long after me, grabbing a mug and pouring himself a mug of coffee. I waited until he sat down and had a few sips before greeting him. âMorning Monty. Sleep okay?â
âMorning (Y/N). I slept okay. You?â
âIt was alright. Warmer than Iâm used to.â
âIâll bet it was.â He smirked at me.
âOh shush you.â Monty chuckled softly as I rolled my eyes.
âYouâre sure youâre okay with this?â
âYeah. I am.â I nodded, smiling.
âGood. Thatâs good.â He nodded and took another sip of coffee. We heard footsteps coming downstairs and looked up.
âMorning (Y/N).â Scott muttered from the middle of the stairs.
âMorning Scott.â I replied.
âMorning Scotty.â Monty greeted, as though this was a perfectly normal Saturday morning. Scott almost missed a step, he stopped so fast.
âUh. Morning Monty?â He looked to me and raised a brow.
âHe needed me last night. I had to tell him.â I shrugged.
âOkay.â He said, walking over to the Keurig and making a cup of coffee. The three of us stood around the kitchen slightly awkwardly looking at each other.
âSame rule applies as with my car. Iâll beat you if you scratch her.â
âJump right to the threats, why not?â I muttered into my mug.
âIâm sure you will, Monty.â
âDamn straight.â
âEven though Iâm your favourite friend?â
â(Y/N) is my favourite.â
âIâm your person. Not your favourite.â
âYes you are.â
âYou donât call your favourite when you kill someone and need help hiding the body.â
âExcuse me?â Scott interjected, alarmed.
âShe made me watch Greyâs Anatomy with her over spring break a couple of years ago.â
âOh. I see. How was that?â
âItâs network tv with a lot of censored sex. And drama.â
âNo boobs?â
âNo boobs.â
âYeah, it would be better with boobs. And if everyone stopped leaving and dying.â I added.
âDoes this mean I have to watch it with you?â
âNo, you might have to sit through an episode of The Bachelor though. I mostly just watch it because I donât understand how none of those stupidly attractive people can find dates on their own.â
âYou hate watch it. I canât wait.â
âWell, youâll get to look forward to what happens after we get done hate watching it.â I retorted, lowly. Scott rose his brow suggestively.
âOh really?â
âAnd on that note! Who wants⊠whatever I can make (Y/N) cook with eggs, peppers, and⊠meat? What is this meat?â Monty cut in as he went through my fridge.
âI think itâs pork. Could be ground turkey though. Thereâs potatoes in the cupboard. Breakfast hash?â
âSounds delicious.â Scott answered. I moved around him and got the bag of potatoes so I could start helping.
âHow long has this been going on for anyway? Also remember that Iâm still here so you canât be all touchy.â
Scott looked at me before answering. âSince December.â
âHow did I not notice?â Monty said after a pause.
âI donât know. Too busy with sports and Bryce? Thereâs also spinach. Do I add the spinach?â I turned around and the boys were both making faces. âNo spinach then.â
âI was not busy with Bryce.â
âMhmm. Thatâs not why you blew off our movie marathon tradition?â
âOkay, point made.â
âHowâs your arm?â
âItâs okay, hurts like a bitch. Why, Scott?â
âJust asking.â Scott turned to me and whispered, âhis dad?â I nodded.
âNo flirting.â
âI didnât get to kiss her good morning, give me a break.â I turned and watched Scott playfully flip Monty off. Then, he placed a soft kiss to my lips and I smiled into it. âGood morning beautiful.â
âGood morning handsome.â
***
âMonty knows now.â
âHe does.â I replied, leaning back into his chest on the couch. âHeâs okay with it.â
âThatâs good.â
âYou arenât going to be jealous, are you? Because there is nothing going on between us.â
âNo, I know. What was the fight about this time?â
âWho knows. He called me and said he needed me, so I went. He wanted to tell the doctors it was a sex accident.â
Scott laughed. âWhat the fuck kind of sex would that have been?â
âThe kind that would have broken his wrist, not his forearm.â
âYou would have been the top?â
âYes. So, you see why we couldnât say that.â
âRight. Thatâs why.â
âWe said he fell down the stairs.â
âPlausible.â
âAnyway, no idea what it was. But knowing his dad, it could have been anything. Thereâs a reason I donât go to his house very often.â I left it at that and we cuddled on the couch for a while.
âHey Scotty?â
âYeah, (Y/N/N)?â
I sat up and turned to him. âNow that Monty knows, do you think we could tell other people? Maybe⊠maybe enough time has passed that people will understand?â
âI think we can tell people, if you want to. I donât care what people think. I would have told everyone in January if you wanted to.â
âI know. I just⊠I donât know how to do this. Iâve never been the girl whose boyfriend died before.â Â
âI know. People might talk for a few days, but theyâll move on. No one expects you to have stayed single for the rest of your life.â
âNot my whole life necessarily. Just the rest of high school.â I joked.
âThe people who complain can fuck off.â
âI guess. And things have kind of gone back to normal now. Or as normal as they can.â
âWe donât have to tell people if you donât want to (Y/N).â
âI do. I think we need to. I donât want to hide you anymore. Itâs time for me to start living my life in the open again.â
âAnd honestly, Iâm tired of hiding you.â We spent a little longer watching tv together. It was nice having someone I could just sit and be with again. We each took turns choosing shows. âI should probably head home soon sweetheart.â
âOkay. Iâll see you Monday?â
âOf course.â Together we gathered up his things and tidied the kitchen. Scott kissed me goodbye, and I leaned against the front door after he had driven away.
Monday would be the last big thing I had to do before graduation. It was the last step in beginning to move forward. I would always love Jeff Atkins. He would always be a part of me and hold a special place in my heart. But I had realized over the last several months that I could be happy again. I wouldnât be betraying him for allowing myself to fall in love with someone again. And I had Scott Reed to thank for that.
Just a reminder for people cause I haven't seen many peope posting about it:
If you can, please braid your hair today in honor of Cole Brings Plenty. Cole was a Lakota actor who was found murdered with his hair cut. Rising Hearts has asked that everyone, indigenous or not, wear braids to honor him and remember those that have suffered the same.
If you can't braid your hair, then share posts of others!
Now is also a good time to share some support to indigenous charities, if you're able
https://www.risinghearts.org/
https://landback.org/
https://mmiwusa.org/
https://narf.org/
https://ndncollective.org/
https://www.niwrc.org/
it really hurts me to see so many gazans asking us for help, though that's through no fault of their own. they've been forced to use a social media site that they're probably not familiar with (because tumblr has kind of faded out of popular consciousness), to interact with us in a second language, to distinguish themselves from the scammers who are taking advantage of genocide, and to ask strangers for help. i don't think there are any cultures where it's easy to ask for help like this, but i'm intimately familiar with how humiliating it can be in arab culture. please be kind, gracious and helpful to the gazans in your inbox. this is a desperate time for them, and in addition to the physical danger inflicted by "israel", the prices of basic resources in gaza are extremely high due to scarcity, and those that manage to escape to egypt are financially exploited by landlords there and have an extremely difficult time finding work due to their unofficial status as refugees. these families will continue to need our help and i hope we can all continue to provide it to the best of our ability.
âł series masterlist!
âł summary: in which y/n is greeted by a sudden revelation on the night of chrisâ most anticipated game, the one that determines whether or not the bruins get into the playoffs and sheâs left apologizing for the night that caused it all.
âł parings: boston bruins player!chris sturniolo x fem!reader!
âł warnings: swearing, fluff, mentions and descriptions of violent fights, verbal arguments, unplanned pregnancy, discussion of abortions, comments from the other team and hecklers, open ending, angst, angst, angst, and more angst.
âł author's note: loosely based off back to december (taylorâs version) by taylor swift! , red italics are comments from random people!
âł important things to note 0.02: a) iâm canadian and a montreal fan âtil the day i die so writing a boston centric fic where the bruins win is killing me. b) iâm writing it so that carey price is still the canadienâs goalie bc i miss him and he was my favourite goalie.
THIRD PERSON POV
to be in the limelight alone is tough. to be in it for something such a hockey, where a million and one eyes are watching your every move, scrutinizing every play you make, every workout you do to toughen your body and build your endurance for the tasking time spent on the ice is even tougher, but to do all of that with a public relationship is the toughest thing.
chris knew that announcing his relationship at the peak of his career with the boston bruins was not going to be easy. he had all eyes on him as the bruins' newest right winger, but not only was he the newest player, he was also the youngest to join in years.
just like connor mcdavid's rise to fame with the edmonton oilers, chris was in the spotlight and it wasn't easy. he was in the spotlight because he was a phenomenal player with a chipper attitude that most hockey players don't seem to have. he had been scouted at one of his toughest games in his college career and almost immediately the contracts began flowing and the drafting process had started.
as eyes of everyone involved in the hockey world began to shift to the star of what they called "the boston bruins' new era and future captain", so did the female attention. not only was chris good at what he did, but he was insanely good looking, at least to the younger female demographic that had taken an interest in hockey.
but he didn't care for the, for a lack of a better name, puck bunnies or the future hockey wives in training, he had his own hockey wife sitting front row in the v.i.p section at every game, smiling as she watched him zip back and forth between his teammates and the teammates that he was facing
as he announced who the mystery girl in his practice jersey at every game was, he faced an onslaught of even more hate disguised as criticism and scrutiny from devout bruins fans, potential drafting scouts, and anyone willing to spare an opinion. but as the rather distasteful comments rolled in, his skin grew thicker, because as long as he had her to go home to, he could handle it.
PRESENT TIME
chris sat on the bench in the hallway adorning the infamous bruins logos, each brick in the wall holding some sort of history of the team, twirling tape around the blade of his stick. he found the dressing room too stuffy right before a game, so he and john beecher sat outside the dressing room, joking amongst themselves as they prepared for the game.
"cmon man, you played big games before you'll be fine." john chuckled, handing chris back his spare roll of stick tape as chris sighed.
"i know, it's just a big fuckin' game tonight. haven't played montreal yet."
"wait this is your first game against montreal?"
"yes and as a boston native, i know this is the game, just don't wanna fuck up when this decides whether or not we make it to playoffs."
"kid you'll be fine, you've outdone mcdavid's first year and that's pretty fuckin' bizarre 'cause he's a powerhouse." beecher reassured, clapping the young right winger on the shoulder before heading back to the dressing room. chris stared at the wall across, still struggling to comprehend how his life has become the way it is, he's incredibly grateful for the opportunities he's gotten and proud of the work he's put in, it's just still hard to fathom.
sensing that she should give her boyfriend a quick visit before he went on to the ice, y/n made her way through the crowds of people, smiling at the fans that addressed her, politely declining to take pictures until after the game. she proudly donned a large "8" and the name "STURNIOLO" scrawled across the back of a black away-game jersey and black jeans and her trusty, yet dirty, air forces, proudly showing her support for the man she's loved for six years, since she was a small fourteen year old navigating her year of high school with the triplets by her side.
the thin plastic stick weighed heavy in the pocket of her hoodie she wore beneath the jersey, she was about to tell chris about it, to give him a little motivation to play extra hard. but when she spotted the reporterâs mic pointed toward his helmet covered face, she placed that idea on the back burner. smiling she approached chris,
âhey mister big shot.â she laughed, causing chris to grin as he introduced her to the reported as his girlfriend. the reporter quickly bid the couple goodbye, leaving them to have their moment together.
âhey so iâve got some really good news for you.â y/n smiled, smoothing her hands over his shoulder pads as he tugged off his helmet, pressing a chaste kiss to her lips.
âlisten i wanna go be apart of the chant so i need to go, can this news wait?â
âi guess so. give âem hell baby, i love you.â
âalways ma, i love you.â chris replied, bouncing on his skates slightly before shoving his helmet back on, quickly shoving his way through the door leading to short hallway his team would walk through.
y/n stared at his back, watching him fade away as she was left to mull over the news she was about to tell chris. it was the start of his career and she didnât want to derail it any, so the choice between telling him now or tell him in a month waged a violent war in her mind.
shaking her head, she made her way back to the staircase leading to the v.i.p section, as she wove through crowds of people, she heard the gasps and murmurs.
âthatâs who the new bruins guy is dating? i wonât be shocked when he starts fucking the puck sluts in a month.â
âshe looks out of place and that jersey is so unflattering on her.â
âi hope sturniolo comes to his senses and dumps her ass soon.â
scoffing, y/n climbed the stairs, pushing the overwhelmingly upsetting thoughts from her mind as she spotted nick and matt in their seats. breaking the news to someone was imperative to her, not telling someone would break her but she didnât know whether she should tell someone before chris.
of course she and chris had talked about their views on starting a family together and the idea of raising a baby together but there was one issue,
chris wanted to wait until secured a long term contract with the bruins. he didnât want anything to deter his plans. and y/n understood, he has worked so unbelievably hard to get to the position heâs in now. starting a family takes a lot of dedication, time, effort, and devotion without distractions. chris was concerned that if they had a baby early on in his professional hockey career, sheâd be left alone to carry out so many of the responsibilities that being a parent brought on.
so as y/n made her way to her designated seat, her heart felt heavy. her doubts only grew with every step she took, and it felt like her body had been held down, it was as if she had cinder blocks chained to her ankles. as she sat beside nick, he picked up on her mood, it didnât take a rocket scientist to see that sonething was bothering her though. nick bumped her elbow with his, as if to ask whatâs wrong and she just smiled and shook her head.
mary-lou, who was sat behind y/n and her three sons, immediately knew what was going on. y/n had a certain glow to her, despite the sorrowful look that had become deeply etched into her skin. she knew that pained expression anywhere, she understood what the taut shoulders, pinched eyebrows, and distraught gleam in her eyes all too well. but the older woman put her excitement about becoming a grandmother off to the side, deciding sheâd wait to gloat until y/n had accepted the idea her self.
the family conversed among themselves while the teams prepared to saunter out onto the ice, letting the fans get hyped up. a voice boomed from above, prompting cheers and hollers from the people taking up the stands.
âplease welcome your home team, the boston bruins!â the commentator exclaimed, dragging out the words boston bruins in typical emcee fashion, allowing the fans and supporters chant for their team as he played the bruinsâ intro song as they skated onto the ice one by one, the emcee announcing the names and numbers above the music.
y/n couldnât help but lett the pride and excitement she felt show brightly on her face, despite the worries she suffered deep down. she was so incredibly proud of chris, him landing a secure spot on the bruins was a long time coming. it was his dream back in high school the moment he secured a spot on his high schoolâs team with ease. he was a natural born hockey player and it showed through the surplus of dedication he put into it. and y/n felt more than lucky to be there on the sidelines from the very beginning.
as the emcee asked from everyone to stand for the national anthem, a cheesy grin broke out on her face as chris stood on the offensive line facing the vip box, and pointed up to where he knew sheâd be sitting before forming his hand into the best half heart possible that his bulky gloves would allow. she felt her cheeks warm with a deep blush as chrisâ family playfully teased her for having their brother and son completely and unfalteringly whipped.
âshut up!â she laughed, her nerves drifting away as the game started. the excitement she never failed to feel at every single one of chrisâ games, whether it was just him filling in for the local adult menâs teams or an exhibition game for his old college team, she was always filled with adrenaline as she stood and sat in the stands.
but that was expected when born into a city that favours the winter sport, you were either born with the excitement coursing through your veins or you were born with a deep hatred for it filling every crevice of your body. there was no in between.
y/n cheered along with chrisâ family as he zipped, swerved, bobbed, and weaved up and down the ice. that was one thing that most players envied chris for, he was fast and slick, almost as if he was water slipping through your fingers.
and not only was he fast, he held great control over the puck as she moved down the ice, the puck never got away from him as he maneuvered it between players, alternating which side his stick was covering and pushing it.
there was fifteen seconds left in the second period and both montreal and boston held three goals each as chris stood for a moment back checking as his teammates guarding him, and with five seconds ticking down, he delivered a brutal slap shot, sending the puck into the net behind carey price who had dropped to block it a second too late.
the bruins fansâ side of the stands erupted in loud cheers, and so did y/n and chrisâ family, his parents laughing giddily as matt made a backhanded comment about price being too old for goaltending.
âi will be right back, i have to use the washroom.â y/n interjects, letting nick know where sheâd while the rest of them grabbed drinks.
âyo y/n, you drink budlight right?â justin hums, causing her stomach to drop, her usual habit of having a beer with them at chrisâ games being something she hadnât even considered.
âuh can you just grab me an iced tea? iâve got an early appointment tomorrow and iâd rather not show up at my doctorâs smelling like beer.â she laughs nervously, causing justin to shrug and accept her answer before heading off to the concession stand near the entrance of the vip box.
âiâll come with you, iâve got to use the ladieâs room too.â mary-lou hums, smiling appreciatively as y/n waited for her.
however as they made their way to back of the section they were sitting in, mary-lou motioned for y/n to follow her out into the small hallway that lead to the smoking doors, it was empty as the two stood there.
âhow far along are you?â mary-lou whispers, unable to withhold her suspicions any longer, and the abrupt question had y/nâs stomach twisting into more knots than it was already in.
âwha-how did you figure it out?â
âiâve had my suspicions for a while, the last time you were over i heard you throwing up, and youâve got the pregnancy glow. plus youâve been wearing baggy clothes and you arenât drinking tonight.â
âfuck. sorry for my language. but i think iâm about two and a half months along. last month i just thought my period was late because i was sick and when i get sick, my period is normally late. but then i missed this monthâs too and it clicked.â
âhave you told chris yet?â mary-lou spoke, her voice soft as she rest a reassuring hand on her future daughter in lawâs arm as she shook her head.
nâi wanted to tell him before the game, to give him a little motive to play harder but he didnât want to miss the chant and pep talk so he left before i could say anything about it. iâve got the test in my pocket and i know itâs not smart to go off just one test so thatâs why iâm going to the doctor tomorrow.â
âwell i think you should tell him, i think heâll be happy.â
âthatâs what iâm worried about, he wanted to wait until he secured a long term contract. we had this conversation about a month ago.â
âyou canât necessarily control these things. a family comes to be when itâs meant to happen, not when you want it to happen.â
mary-louâs words stuck deep in y/nâs mind. she knew that chrisâ mother was right. y/n had just wished her and chris were a bit more careful that drunken night in the hotel.
FLASHBACK
chris and y/nâs drunken giggles bounced off the walls as they pushed their way into their room. they had gone out for dinner with the team and eventually broke off on their own after swiping two of the complementary bottles of champagne that the teams managers had provided.
they stumbled through the city after hiding in an empty room in the banquet hall, chugging the nasty liquor as quick as they could handle on empty stomachs.
âgod baby, you look so pretty in this dress, just wanna tear it off you.â chris rasped, his cheeks flushing and eyes drooping, from the alcohol, or the effect his girlfriend had on him, or maybe even both, she wasnât quite sure. making him look all the more enticing to y/n.
âdo it then.â y/n slurred back, pulling chris into a messy, sloppy, yet incredibly hot, like searingly hot, make out, chrisâ hands roamed her body feverishly, unable to stay in one place very long.
as their ministration progressed, so did their desire for one another and the lingering buzz they had from the alcohol left room for a few less than sound decisions. chris drunkenly justified going in raw by saying âjust wanna feel as close to you as possible.â and that was all the convincing y/n needed, but she made him promise to pull out in time.
but due to their inebriation, chris wasnât quick enough but they had long forgotten it by the time morning came.
FLASHBACK OVER
and now she was paying the price for them being reckless. sighing, she made her way back to her seat just as the intermission ended and chris' team made their way back to the home bench, their net switching back to the end they started out on.
it wasn't too far into the third period when the canadiens were getting aggressive, the score was eight to five in favour of boston and montreal was getting mad that they were losing the game, the most awaited game since it was announced boston and montreal would be facing each other to land a bracket in the playoffs.
the fact that it was also playoff season made y/n's stomach twist even tighter, she felt sick. she was so scared she was going to fuck up chris' life plan and she couldn't bear that idea.
but her current worries were thrown on the back burner when she watched a much bigger player from montreal's team check chris, sending him flying back against the ice, his head ricocheting off the ice, leaving chris laying flat on the ice.
chris' coach calls a time-out while paramedics quickly make their way onto the ice, carrying chris off the ice, and before y/n could react, she was pushing her way through the bustling crowd and stomping down the stairs, quickly sprinting to chris' change room.
"i'm sorry ma'am but you can't be in here."
"i'm his fiance." y/n spits, pushing her way into the change room, immediately rushing to chris, raising her hand to play with his hair, pausing momentarily to silently ask for permission which was granted by him leaning into her touch.
"we're okay, if anything happens, we'll call for you." chris rasps, waving away the paramedics, sighing sadly after being told he's not allowed back on the ice for the rest of the game to prevent being knocked around again because he was highly vulnerable to getting a concussion right now.
"tell me something to distract me, baby." chris whispers, pulling y/n into his lap, the bulky padding beneath her feeling foreign as she leans her head on her shoulder.
"i'm not sure what to talk about." she laughs as he rubs his hand back and forth along her thigh.
"your news from earlier."
"oh." she squeaks, her voice almost inaudible as she realizes that it's now or never. sighing, she grabs the test out of her pocket from beneath the spare jersey she wore, placing it into chris' hand with a heartbroken expression and timid voice,
"we're pregnant, chris."
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love a good cliffhanger!! if you want me to make this into a mini-series i am beyond willing to! i have plans for this story tbh<3
hot take .
men that call themselves âalphaâ are borderline furries jus in denial đđ
I AGREE they're also just denying that they like dick đ
james potter sirius black remus lupin poly!marauders regulus black
peter parker matt murdock eddie brock/venom
spencer reid | 3 aaron hotchner | 3 | 4 | 5 derek morgan emily prentiss jennifer jareau
eddie munson | 3 steve harrington robin buckley jim hopper jonathan byers
bradley âroosterâ bradshaw jake âhangmanâ seresin (coming soon!) robert âbobâ floyd
anakin skywalker obi-wan kenobi han solo din djarin
indiana jones kurt kunkle
A little add on to my last thought
How could you be best friends with someone and then not even a month after they break up with their boyfriend you get with them. It just doesn't make sense to me. How could you know someone and trust them for 2 years, put two years of effort into this friendship just to throw it all down the drain over a guy. I just don't get how people could do that to other people. Like sure I liked him but I'm putting myself off because I respect her and I'm good fucking friend.
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(may 27th)
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