Breaking The Ice

CHAPTER 15

Riley POV

By Friday afternoon, I had become an expert at pretending everything was fine. It wasn't intentional. It was survival. At practice, I laughed at Gray's terrible jokes. I chirped Tyler whenever he missed an easy pass. I congratulated Easton after a great defensive read. No one questioned me. Which was exactly how I wanted it.

The moment practice ended, though, I traded my hockey gear for jeans and a hoodie, grabbed the growing folder of rental listings from my backpack, and headed across town. Apartment number eight. The landlord met me outside a weathered duplex with peeling paint and a rusted chain-link fence.

"You the student?” He asked “Yeah." He unlocked the front door. The smell hit me before I even stepped inside. Damp. Old cigarettes. Something that reminded me suspiciously of mould. The living room carpet was stained beyond saving, and one of the kitchen cupboard doors hung crooked on a single hinge. "The previous tenant was a little rough on the place.” the landlord explained. A little.

I forced a polite smile. "The rent?” He named the amount. It was somehow more expensive than the apartment looked. "And utilities aren't included.” I asked. Of course they weren’t. I thanked him for his time and left before he could continue his sales pitch. I crossed another address off my list. Eight down. Too many to go.

The next place looked much better. Small. Clean. Close enough to campus that I could bike to practice. For the first time all week, hope stirred in my chest. The elderly woman showing me around smiled kindly. "I've already had six students look at it today.” She informed me. “Oh." Was all I could say. "But I promised the first young man I'd hold it until tomorrow morning.” My heart sank. "If he says no, I'll call you.” She took my number and I thanked her. Neither of us believed she'd be calling.

By the time I reached the bus stop, rain had started falling. Not heavy. Just enough to soak through my hoodie while I waited. I checked my bank account again. Bad idea. The numbers hadn't magically changed in the last twenty minutes. I slipped my phone back into my pocket. There had to be another answer. I just hadn't found it yet.

When I returned to campus, the athletic center was nearly empty. Most of the team had already gone home for the weekend. I headed toward the equipment room to drop off a practice jersey Coach had asked me to return. As I rounded the corner, voices drifted out from inside. "...you've been distracted.” It was Coach. "I know.” Jaxon.

I froze. "I don't care if you're distracted.” Coach continued. "I care why.”Coach continued. There was a pause. Then Jaxon spoke quietly. "I'm thinking about Bennett.” My feet stopped moving. "You think she needs help.” Coach said matter of factly. "I know she does.” Coach didn't answer immediately. Finally, he said, "So help her.” Why were they talking about me… and what did they think I needed help with… did they know? I wondered.

"It's not that simple.” Jaxon said. “No." Coach agreed. "It never is.” I should have walked away. Instead, I stood there, rooted to the spot. Jaxon's voice came again. "If we push too hard…" Jaxon started to say. "We'll push her away.” Coach finished. Silence settled between them. Then Coach sighed. "She's proud.” He said. "I know.” Jaxon said, sighing.

"She's independent.” Coach continued. "I know.” Jaxon grumbled. "And she won't accept charity."

"I know.” There was something in Jaxon's voice I'd never heard before. Frustration. Not with me. With the situation. Coach spoke again. "Then don't treat her like a charity case.” Another long silence. Finally… "I'll figure something out.” Those words hit me harder than they should have. Because they were the exact same words I'd been repeating to myself all week.

I backed away before either of them could leave the room.

My chest felt strangely tight. Why did he care? A week ago, Jaxon Hayes could barely tolerate sharing a locker room with me. Now… He was trying to figure out how to help. I didn't understand it. And honestly… That scared me more than the housing problem.

That evening, I sat cross-legged on my dorm room floor with another stack of rental listings spread around me. I circled three more addresses. Crossed out two. Added another phone number to tomorrow's list. A knock sounded on my door. Emily peeked inside. "Movie night.” I smiled apologetically. "I can’t." I said. "You've said no three nights in a row.” Emily said disappointedly. "I've just got a lot to do.” She looked around at the papers covering the floor. Realisation dawned on her face. "Oh..."

"It's okay.” I told her. ”No.” she said gently. "It isn’t." For a second, I almost told her everything. Almost. Instead, I smiled. "I'll be okay.” She studied me for another moment before nodding.

"If you change your mind…" she said and I smiled at her. "I know.” After she left, the room felt even quieter. I looked around my tiny dorm. The desk where I'd spent hours studying. The bed tucked against the wall. The Wolf Ridge jersey hanging from the wardrobe door. This room had only been mine for a few weeks. But somehow… It had already started feeling like home.

Soon… It wouldn't be. And for the first time since this whole mess had started… I wasn't afraid of losing a room. I was afraid of losing the life I'd only just begun to build.