Drawing Blood

Chapter 1

Mr. Aguilar was officially arrested a week after he ran away. Nora was still at her home with her grandmother while I threw myself back into school, ignoring the questions I kept getting by fellow students. It was weird to go from the new scholarship kid at Seaside Prep to the most important girl on campus.

At least until the next hockey game, of course.

There was a reason this place was known for its hockey program. A high-nineties NHL draft percentage for all the varsity hockey players was something to boast about, and the entire school took it as seriously as Texas took football.

I, unlike ninety-five percent of the academy’s population, wanted nothing to do with hockey. I wasn’t a figure skater, either. I was just a student whose best friend went here, whose little sister wanted to attend like nobody’s business, and who didn’t want to be left behind while the two most important people chased after their dreams. I wasn’t sure if Seaside was a step towards my dreams because I had no idea what my dreams actually were, but being a journalist was something I liked, and I wanted to do more of that here – even if it ruffled feathers.

Hey, Finley Jayne, a voice called from behind me. I turned to see one of the ice girls – girls who swept up the ice during breaks and intermissions in cute outfits – saunter towards me.

She was stunning.

Seaside got applicants from all over the States and Canada, and I swear, it seemed like only the most beautiful were accepted.

I knew this girl. She was a senior with dark hair and dark eyes. There was absolutely no flaw that existed on her person.

None at all.

She was the epitome of perfection, which annoyed the shit out of me because that wasn’t exactly fair.

I shook my head. I shouldn’t be trying to compare myself to other girls. I needed to stay in my lane.

Then again, I wished Nora would come back now that her father was arrested. I really needed her.

It was strange: so many people knew me, thanks to the article I wrote exposing the fact that hockey superstar and Coach Butcher’s oldest son didn’t commit suicide the way everyone thought, but was actually murdered by his girlfriend’s father, a sports agent who was upset that Caine was intent on backing out of a deal and exposing the fact that Mr. Aguilar engaged in signing contracts before it was allowed. All seniors were tied to the academy’s team; they couldn’t agree to an agent until the season was officially over. That was the rule. But Mr. Aguilar thought he was better than the rules and tried to go around them. Caine was going to expose the truth and he got killed for it.

Everyone was shocked. Mr. Aguilar was a big deal. Nora was the most popular girl at school. And now?

I didn’t know how everyone was going to react to her once she got back. I didn’t think she knew either. Maybe that was why she was holing up for as long as possible. I loved Nora, even if she did care about superficial things like high school hierarchy. And yet, despite that, she still was my best friend.

But now, everyone knew who I was. And not because I played hockey or won figure skating medals. At the same time, I had never felt more alone than I did right now.

I heaved a sigh as I headed down the long hallway that would eventually take me to my dorm. It was just after three, which meant classes were done and everyone was deciding what they were going to do for the afternoon until dinner. Most students just went to the rink and watched the varsity team practice. It was a chill place – literally – to hang out and procrastinate on homework.

I, on the other hand, hated the cold and didn’t subject myself to it unless I had to. Instead, I needed to figure out what I was planning to write my next article on. Since my last one was so successful, Bell had opted to let me pick a few topics and she would make the final decision. The problem was, I was stuck. I needed direction, a push, to help me figure out what I wanted to actually write about. What I wanted to immerse myself in. Because once I had a topic, once I committed to it, I went all in. To the point where I could lose myself if I wasn’t careful.

I reached the end of the academy wing and pushed the double doors that led into the girls’ dormitory. It was much quieter here. I assumed it was because no one was around, but it could be that students were actually doing homework. This was a prestigious private school, after all, and while hockey was the primary focus and what Seaside was known for, academics was also something it excelled at.

I shifted my bag on my shoulder. The weight of it added pressure to my muscles; I needed my earth science textbook because of a huge test we had coming up on Friday, and since anything science wasn’t exactly in my wheelhouse, I’d decided to start studying sooner in hopes that the information might stick. 

I turned a corner, only to be confronted by the familiar figure of Liam Butcher. My breath vanished the second I saw him. I hated my reaction to him, hated that I was still somehow wrapped up in a daydream of the two of us being together. Just because we had kissed a couple of times didn’t mean we were in love or even that we were in some kind of committed relationship.

And yet, when I looked at him, everything else melted away. My heart skipped a beat because it was a traitor, making me feel things I definitely didn’t want to deal with. Didn’t want to feel.

He still looked the same. Of course, he did. It had only been a few days since I saw him, though he hadn’t been in Journalism for a while. I thought we ended things on a good note. At the very least, I thought we were friends. 

But it was almost like he had been avoiding me.

I knew that sounded crazy, and I knew that as a varsity hockey player whose season just started, he was busy. Maybe I misread everything. Maybe those kisses between us, the gentle touching, the lingering stares, maybe I completely misread it all.

Or maybe I hadn’t and he was just being a dick.

Liam Butcher had a reputation for being a dick, after all. Even his own teammates didn’t like him. But few people knew why he was that way.

I closed my eyes. The sound of Cyrus Butcher, Liam’s father and hockey coach, hitting his son still rang in my ears. I had been hiding out in his cramped, slightly smelly closet. I’d wanted to go out. I’d wanted to do something about it.

But…I didn’t.

Shame colored my cheeks and my eyes sprang open. I nearly ran into a locker and barely managed to sidestep out of the way. I stayed in that closet because I didn’t want to embarrass Butcher. I didn’t want him to think I was coming to his rescue. I wanted him to know that I trusted him. I trusted how he was going to handle a situation like that.

But…but what if no one helped Butcher? What if everyone left him to figure things out on his own? After Caine died, it wasn’t like he had anyone to support him. His girlfriend had cheated on him with Caine so they weren’t talking. And I didn’t think he had any friends. His father wasn’t doing anything for his only remaining son, either.

Which meant he was alone.

I blew out a breath. Just because he lived a tragic life didn’t mean I could justify his actions…

But it also meant I needed to take responsibility for mine.

Instead of avoiding Butcher, instead of waiting for him to avoid me, I walked right over to him. He arched a brow at my arrival but didn’t try to leave, which I took as a decent sign. Whether it was good remained to be seen.

Hey, I said.

Hey yourself.

I shifted my shoulders. Suddenly, I was at a loss. What the hell was I supposed to say now? I wished I was cooler than this. I wished I could write him a letter – which sounded stupid, but I was much better and wittier when I had time to think about what I was actually going to say. I knew what I wanted to say, but speaking the words to get my point across was not something I was actually good at.

Um, how are you? I asked. I haven’t seen you in Journalism.

Dropped it, he said.

What? Suddenly, I forgot why I was nervous around him. Why would you do that?

I didn’t see it as necessary to further my education, he said. Look, what the fuck is it to you?

I flinched. Was he really asking me that? After everything we had been through?

Something flashed in his heavy, dark eyes, something that might have passed for regret if it hadn’t vanished as quickly as it appeared.

Okay, I said. I turned around, ready to walk away, when a hand grabbed my shoulder and forced me back around.

Look, Butcher said, taking a step into my personal space. I tried not to notice, tried to pretend that he didn’t affect me in the slightest, but I was a liar, and a bad one at that. I can’t be in that classroom. I just… After everything, I can’t stand the fucking looks.

What makes Journalism different than, say, all of your other classes? I asked. There shouldn’t be attitude in my voice, not when he was actually being honest about something, but this didn’t make sense. I didn’t take you for a coward.

Hey. His voice was low. Gruff. He took another step towards me, his hand still on my shoulder. There’s no need for you to take it personally. It has nothing to do with you.

I glared at his hand and dropped my shoulder, forcing it to fall. I’m not taking it personally, I snapped, narrowing my eyes at him. What makes you think I would take it personally?

Without warning, Butcher’s lips began to draw up into his patented smirk. I wrinkled my nose, my cheeks turning hot. I knew exactly what he was thinking in that moment. About those kisses that set my body on fire. About how maybe I wanted to kiss him again, maybe even right here.

You’re the most arrogant prick I’ve ever met, I said. Don’t think you have any effect on me, whether you’re in Journalism or not.

Whatever you need to tell yourself, sweetheart, he said, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning casually against the row of lockers. I think you want me to kiss you again.

I think you should go find someone else to kiss, I said. My comebacks weren’t as witty as I hoped they would be. Maybe at that Halloween party everyone’s talking about. I’m sure you, the stud of the hockey team, can find someone desperate, willing, and lacking self-esteem to hook up with.

Butcher leaned towards me, invading my personal space. He knew exactly what he was doing, and I hated him for it. You think I’m a stud?

I think you’re an ass, I said.

You know, sweetheart, you’re the only person I fucking let get away with talking to me like that, don’t you? he asked, straightening. I am a bit of a bad boy, after all. Can’t have my reputation in tatters because some girl runs her mouth.