The bet ends here
1091 Words
(Kendall)
I just stood there. Frozen. I didn’t get it at first. I thought it was over. I thought Chase had won his stupid bet and that was the end of it. I thought I could finally move on. But I was wrong. They weren’t done.
“Come on, Chase, stop pretending like you give a damn about her. Let’s pick up where we left off,” Brad said.
The music cut out. The room got quiet. Too quiet. Then, slowly, people started gathering. Just like that, I was the center of attention for all the wrong reasons.
“I told you I’d get her within a week,” Chase said, grinning. “Who bets against me now?”
A few people clapped. Some laughed. The rest just watched.
“Congrats on your pathetic victory,” I said. “Mocking people doesn’t make you strong. It makes you weak.”
He rolled his eyes. “You really thought I liked you? Please. Look at yourself. You look like a whale.”
Laughter. Actual, full-on laughter.
Some people covered their mouths. Most didn’t.
“Look at her face!” someone called out.
“Did she actually think Chase would date her?” a girl said behind me.
I felt like the floor had opened up and swallowed me, but I held my chin up. I wouldn’t let him see me break.
“You know what, Chase.” I started.
“Shut up,” he snapped, stepping toward me. “You don’t get to talk.”
The crowd was excited now. Like they were watching a movie and didn’t want to miss a second.
He walked around me like I was prey. Like I was something to be toyed with.
“Should we show her what we really think?” Brad shouted.
“Do it!” someone yelled back.
Before I could even react, Chase shoved me. Hard.
I stumbled back, tripped over someone’s foot, and hit the floor. My hip slammed against the ground. Pain shot through me, but the humiliation was worse.
“Hockey scholarship girl can’t even stand up,” Chase said, grinning. “Maybe if you weren’t so fat.”
And then someone threw their drink at me.
The cold soaked through my shirt, made the fabric cling to me in all the worst ways.
The laughter got louder. It felt like it was pressing in on me from every direction.
I tried to push myself up, but Chase stepped on me. Not hard. Just enough. Just to show he could.
“What’s wrong, Kendall? I thought hockey girls were tough.”
Then he slapped me.
Gasps, followed by even louder laughter.
My cheek stung. My eyes burned. I blinked fast to keep the tears from falling.
“That’s for wasting my time,” he said.
I got to my feet. My body hurt, my clothes were soaked, my hands were shaking.
“You’re nothing,” I said. It barely came out. Just a whisper.
“What?” he barked, grabbing my arm. His grip hurt.
“I said you’re nothing,” I repeated louder.
That’s when he punched me.
Right in the stomach.
I folded, couldn’t breathe. A camera flash went off in my face.
“That’s going viral,” someone said. “Whale gets harpooned.”
I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t do anything. I just stumbled away, pushing past people who didn’t even bother to move.
Outside, the cold slapped me in my wet clothes. I stood there for a second before I pulled out my phone and called the only person who ever made me feel safe.
“Dad?” I said when he picked up. “I need your help. It’s time to come home.”
I hung up before he could say anything.
Back at the dorm, my hands were shaking. My body ached.
There was a word scribbled on my door in red marker: LOSER.
Inside, it was worse. My roommate was gone. But someone had been there. My hockey gear was all over the place. My stick was snapped in half.
I dropped to my knees. I didn’t even realize I was crying until I couldn’t stop. Couldn’t breathe. I just stayed like that. Broken and quiet.
Then I packed.
My dad texted. He was sending someone in the morning.
By then, the video had blown up. It was everywhere. Strangers were messaging me. Calling me names. Telling me I deserved it.
The coach called, too. Said the team was “concerned about the attention” and maybe it’d be best if I stepped away. I didn’t argue. I was already gone.
When my dad’s driver pulled up the next day, I was standing on the curb. I didn’t look back. Not once.
In the car, I touched my bruised cheek and stared out the window.
My dad taught me how to skate before I could spell my own name. He used to say hockey isn’t just about strength. It’s about heart. About getting up when it’s easier to stay down.
My mom a sports journalist used to say that when the world gets loud, you play smarter. Not softer. Not quieter. Just smarter.
They raised me to know that people’s opinions don’t define you. But god, it still hurt like hell.
This? This isn’t the ending.
Yeah, I’m hurt. I’m embarrassed. I’m angry.
But I’m not finished.
I’m not coming back to beg or to prove anything to anyone.
I’m going to become someone they can’t ignore. The kind of person they never saw coming.
One day, Chase and Brad will walk into a room and realize I’m the one in charge. I’ll be the one deciding who gets signed, who gets opportunities, who gets a future in the sport they think they rule.
And when they look at me? I’ll remember this.
The night they laughed.
The drink.
The slap.
The punch.
They bet against me.
They’re going to wish they hadn’t.
This isn’t about getting even.
It’s about showing every girl like me that no one gets to decide your worth but you.
Let them keep their videos. Let them tell their version of the story.
One day, those clips will be proof of who they were. Not who I was.
Because me? I’m not broken.
I’m rebuilding.
And I’m coming back stronger.
I won’t be their joke. I won’t be a warning. I’ll be a force.
They tried to bury me. All they did was plant me deeper.
Let them laugh.
I’m not staying down.
I’m just getting started.
- Writer
