#more like gray wing the fucking doofus

[diaswarriorcats]

[raysofcrosby]

HOMETOWN PT. 2

“𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘐'𝘥 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘵. 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘥, 𝘱𝘪𝘦𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘬𝘦𝘱𝘵 𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘣𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘸𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘱 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘵 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱𝘸𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘬 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘸.” – 𝙎��𝙧𝙖𝙝 𝘿𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙚𝙣, 𝙅𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙇𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙣

𝘨𝘪𝘧 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘵 (𝘹)

𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥: yes and no

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨(𝘴): some bad words and a whole lotta angst.

𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 5,664

𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺: give me back my hometown by eric church

𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦: if you haven’t read part one, read it now! otherwise this probs won’t make too much sense lol. anyway, here’s part 2!!! i hope this is good bc tbh i think it’s okay– but i’m also really critical of my writing so don’t mind me. don’t be afraid to shoot me a message with a request, bc it’s summer and i’m bored!! alright, bye i hope you enjoy :)

“An Idiot. I’m such a literal idiot.” Josh mumbled, running his fingers through his hair as he grabbed the scotch off of the bar and slid over a few bills of gratuity to the bartender.

The bartender raised his eyebrows and looked at Josh. “Um sir, you left some money on the–“

Josh just threw his hand in the air and waved the kid off. “Keep it. I’ll be back for more I’m sure.”

Instead of arguing, the bartender nodded and placed the pile of bills into his apron pocket before turning to help someone else. “You’re well aware that you just tipped that kid at least $50, right?” Colt said, coming up to Josh’s side.

Normally, Josh would make an attempt to get the money back. $50 was a shit ton of money to tip a bartender for one drink, but he didn’t care. All he could think about was you. How different your hair had looked– wearing it down as opposed to your normal updo. How you were dressed– no longer hiding beneath his sweatshirts. The way you carried yourself– confident and secure. And the way his name sounded rolling off your tongue– like his favorite dream he’d long forgotten.

You weren’t that same girl he knew growing up. The 8-year-old with braided hair and braces, racing him down the street on rollerblades in the summer heat. The insecure tween with the same braces, and the same braids who spent her summers off at a camp out of town. The shy teenager who was rid of her braces, still kept her hair out of her face but was growing into her own skin, all while cuddled up next to him, fitting perfectly in the crook of his arm. No, you weren’t that girl anymore…you were so much more.

“Let me guess,” Colt sighed as he took a sip of his rum. “You talked to Y/N?”

The mention of your name almost made Josh freeze in panic. He brought his cup up to his lips and took a long sip, letting out a satisfied sigh. “Yeah, if you can even call it that.”

“What do you–“

“Dude! Why the hell did you just run off like that?” Dillon asked, shoving Josh’s shoulder before turning his attention to Colt. “Did he tell you what he did?”

“No, but I think we were getting–“

“Y/N comes up as soon as doofus over here says he’s leaving and when she asks if he’s leaving, he freezes!” Dillon shook his head and let his arms drop dramatically. “But then she says hi! Actually acknowledges his existence after 10 years and what does numbnuts over here do?”

“Shut the fuck up, Dillon,” Josh mumbled, taking another sip of his scotch and making sure to admire the burn as it traveled down his throat.

“He fucking says hi…and then he LEAVES. Well, actually no, he mumbles some incoherent bullshit and then he leaves.” Dillon turned to Josh and shook his head. “What the fuck dude, she was standing right there. You should have seen the look she gave Amy and–“

Josh threw his drink back and swallowed the rest of the scotch, this time ignoring the blatant burn as he closed his eyes tightly. After a few moments, he opened them again and looked at Dillon. “You don’t know shit, so you need to shut the fuck up and drop it.”

Before Dillon or Colt could say anymore, Josh turned back towards the bar and nudged his way through the crowd. This reunion had proved to be just as miserable as he thought it would be. If it wasn’t the sneaky looks from old classmates whose names he couldn’t remember, it was the way people approached him as if he hadn’t walked the same halls or attended the same classes as they did all through their school days. They treated him like Columbus Blue Jackets Right Wing, Josh Anderson. Not Josh Anderson, a mediocre science student and all-around athlete who could charm his way out of a tardy slip. And part of him expected it since it had been a little like that once his talent on the ice started to show. Everyone always treated him like he was special than the rest, well…everyone except for you.

When he placed his glass onto the counter, he didn’t even get the chance to open his mouth before the bartender handed him another scotch. Only this one looked to be a double. Josh looked up and the bartender shrugged his shoulders. “No offense, but you look like you need it.”

“You have no idea.” He sighed, holding his glass up and cheering to the bartender before taking a long sip.

“Try me,” He said, picking up empty cups and tossing them into the trashcan. “It’s kind of the part of being a bartender. Make the drinks and then listen to people get the nasty shit off of their chest.”

Josh had no idea who this kid was, but there was something about him that he liked. Whether it be the way he made his simple drink taste like pure alcoholic gold or the way he was straightforward with his words– something inside him told him that if there was going to be one person he would talk to at this stupid place…it was him, not his best friends, not some random old classmate, but the bartender. “What’s your name?”

“Tucker Romero.”

“Romero…as in Grayson Romero?”

“Older brother, yeah.”

Josh felt like he should’ve made a connection somehow. Now that he knew his name, he could see how the two shared some genetic appearances. The same brown eyes, shaggy brown hair. The only thing Tucker seemed to lack of his older brother’s was the height and physique of a hockey player. If Josh was considered good at hockey, then Grayson was a God. Three years older than Josh, Grayson took him under his wing, showing him what workouts to do, how to gain muscle and overall improve his game. He was practically Josh’s idol. If there was anyone who would leave town and go to the NHL, it was Grayson. Until his second year at Michigan when he dropped on the ice during a game.

The fatal prognosis? An underlying heart condition.

Josh could still remember hearing the news at practice at school. How weird coach had been acting all practice and no one knew why. Being boys, they made crude jokes about how he needed to get laid and stupid shit like that. None of it seemed funny the moment he sat them down after practice and told them that Grayson had died. No one but his class and the class above him had known Grayson on a personal level, but they all knew of him on the ice. And his death had hit Josh hard– one of his first times ever dealing with grief and as a 16/17-year-old kid, he had no fucking idea what to do. It was was one of the moments that had defined his grade 11 year.

After that practice, he told the coach he’d lock up and stayed at the rink and shot puck after puck, harder and harder each time. He needed to take his anger out on something. He needed to hit something– it was all he wanted to do…all that he could do. He didn’t care if he made it in the goal, ricocheted the puck off the pipe or bust the glass. There was so much anger rushing through his body and he was scared that he would explode if he didn’t get it out. That’s when you showed up, still in your school uniform and wearing his team sweatshirt. You made a comment about how he was supposed to actually make it into the goal and before he could snap back with something smart; you said that you heard about Grayson. If he thought back hard enough, he could still see the look on your face and the way his body shook as you made your way towards him, practically gliding along the ice.  He could still feel the way your arms wrapped around his waist and how he just let himself sink down onto the ice letting the overflow of emotions take over. In that memory alone, he could still hear your voice whispering to him that somehow, it’d all be okay…and he never understood why or how, but he believed you.

Josh zoned back in on his drink and finished it, plopping the cup onto the counter as Tucker slid him another one. “I’m sorry…about Gray.”

Tucker gave him a nod and a thankful glance. “It’s alright. Kind of crazy how fast 12 years go by though, you know?” He turned back around with another cup of scotch– a single this time. “But I know my brother isn’t what has you downing scotch like a dehydrated dog. I lost you for a second, where’d you go?”

Josh swished the scotch around in his cup as he stared at the swirling liquid. “I ran into someone who I haven’t seen in 10 years and let’s just say our last meeting didn’t end so well.”

“Let me guess, ex-girlfriend?”

It shouldn’t have stung as much as it did, the word ex-girlfriend. Even if that’s what you’ve been…what you are to him after all these years. But it did, it stung like hell and a sip of scotch eased the ache a little. “Her name’s Y/N and yeah, she’s my…ex. But that’s not the reason why I’m all…like this.”

Liar, he was a fucking liar and he knew it. Seeing you again was exactly the reason why he was drowning his feelings in cheap scotch, but he couldn’t admit it to himself, let alone anyone else. “Do you ever just want to…leave this place and never come back?” He could feel the alcohol begin to invade his thoughts, which he knew could either be dangerous or not. But his give a fuck meter was starting to run really low.

“No?” Tucker raised an eyebrow and Josh didn’t understand why he was so confused. It was a straightforward question that could be answered with a straightforward answer. “Think about it man, this place…it’s pretty damn nice. The neighborhoods, the stores, the restaurants, and hell even the people are great. There’s a little bit of everything for everyone, no matter the age, you know?”

He walked off to hand Kiss-Ass McGhee a cup of red wine and Josh closed his eyes and turned his head slightly, hoping that he’d noticed the old class President soon enough to be avoided. “Josh, hey!”

“Well fuck,” he mumbled beneath his breath, sitting himself up straight and turning around with his ‘media’ smile on his face. “Hey, Kis-Kyle! How have you been, man?” He stuck out his hand and shook it, taking in his former classmates appearance. “Looks like you grew into your ears man.”

Shit, was that too mean? Too forward? Josh had already almost slipped up once by almost calling him Kiss-Ass McGhee. Maybe he should cut himself off of the drinks.

Kiss-Ass McGhee just laughed and let their hands fall. “Yeah, grew into them around the same time I finished going through puberty– Sophomore year of college.” He looked over Josh’s shoulder and nodded his head as he took a sip of wine. “We’re getting ready to start the slideshow, but I’ll come and find you after! I’m curious to see how you’ve been.”

The moment he left the bar, Josh let his fake smile fall and he took another sip of his scotch. “I was a dick in secondary. My friends and I used to make fun of him, call him Kiss-Ass McGhee and to be frank, I have no fucking clue why. We overheard someone call him a kiss-ass and just rolled with it.” He took another sip and looked back at Tucker. “But he seems like a good guy.”

“You’re avoiding the topic,” Tucker rolled his eyes and put the cork back in the wine bottle. “But you know, who you are in high school isn’t who you are for the rest of your life.”

It was like déjà vu in his mind as the words left Tucker’s lips. It was pretty much what Dillon had said at the diner– how it’s been 10 years since what went down between you and Josh and there’s no way that the two of you were those same kids. And yeah, he was right…but was he really? Could you have let what happened in the past go? Or were you like him and pushing it further back into your mind and letting it haunt you.

“So you really like this place? Like…there’s not even the slightest feeling of wanting to never see this place again? Leave it all behind?”

“Not really, there are a lot of special places here, you know?” Tucker shrugged at Josh’s confused face and sighed, leaning his elbows on the counter. “I mean, every time I pass that park on Cherry I think about how when I was a kid, Grayson and I would walk home from his hockey practice and he’d always let me stop and play. The theatre? First kiss there with my first girlfriend happened there. The way the streets get all quiet at night, I think about how my friends and I would sneak out with a couple of beers and go sit out in the school parking lot and just talk. Everywhere I look around this place, holds a good memory…and sometimes when I’m down in the shitter, those places help.”

Josh knew exactly what he meant because the moment he crossed into town, it was as if everywhere he looked had a highlight reel of happy moments stored in his brain. The empty field where everyone would gather at the end of the summer and have one last summer party. The streets where all the kids on his block would play street hockey in the summer heat and rotate houses for lemonade and popsicles. The frozen lake where he’d kissed a girl for the first time…where he’d kissed you for the first time. And the diner, God walking back into that place with the boys felt like he was a prisoner on death row and walking towards his own execution. 

That place…that place was your guys’ safe haven. Where you’d go after every hockey game and do homework together, though he’d spent more time watching you do your homework than doing his own. In the summers, after days on the lake, your parents would send you guys to grab food for the families and laugh about how tired your arms would be after carrying it all back into their backyard. How that booth off in the corner…that one red booth that had been your safe haven so many times, was also where everything went wrong.

“Good Evening everyone, thanks for coming out tonight!” Kis–Kyle said, speaking into the microphone. “I’d just like to give a quick thanks to Mallory Johnson and Vic Geiger for helping me get all of this together. And, of course, to Principal Sanders for allowing us to use the gym for the reunion tonight.”

The crowd followed Kyle McGhee and applauded at the courteous shout outs before settling down again. “I don’t know about you guys, but when the time came for this reunion, I honestly didn’t want to go. I mean, it’s been 10 years since we last walked those halls, sat in those seats and since most of us have all been in the same space together. For me, it wasn’t about how much time has passed that worried me. I wasn’t worried about being asked a million questions about what I do now, do I have a family, and am I happy? No, I think what worried me the most, was standing in this room and remembering everything as if it happened yesterday.”

For the first time in his life, Josh found himself focused in on what Kiss-Ass McGhee had to say. It wasn’t the alcohol making him focus in, it was what the speech entailed. It was as if Kiss-Ass McGhee was pulling the fear right out of his gut and spilling it all on that stage.

“I was worried that the memories that I had made here, the friends I hung out with at lunch, the clubs I joined, the parties I never went to– that all of it would somehow leak itself into my present and I would lose myself in the person that walked these halls.” He took a sip of his wine and shook his head. “Not like that’s a bad thing either, you know? Cause I graduated with no regrets, great friends and amazing memories. I’m proud of the person I am back then. But coming back here now, 10 years later, 10 years wiser and better looking, I was scared that I would reminisce on this time of my life– and regret everything that I did.”

“Should I have gone to those parties? Did I really need to join another extracurricular? Why didn’t I ask Y/N L/N to that winter dance in grade 9,” Josh could feel his eye twitch as a few laughs filled the gym and his eyes wandered on the crowd…looking for you. Were you laughing at his joke? Were you blushing? Was it even a joke? …Would you have gone with Kiss-Ass McGhee if he asked?

“Anyway, the point I’m making is, I was terrified of coming here today because, for some strange reason, 10 years just didn’t seem enough. But standing here in front of all of you, seeing everything that you guys have accomplished since we graduated, whether that be starting your own business, achieving a Ph.D., starting beautiful families…winning a Stanley Cup– seeing my old classmates do these amazing things with their lives, trumped any fear that I had.”

“There’s something special about the class of 2012 and there has been the moment we graced the halls as tiny Niners. And it’s evident that this class is still special, because of everything we’ve become since then. There’s a quote I found that I thought would be great to share before I played this video,” He cleared his throat and read it off of his phone. “Always remember to slow down in life; live, breathe and learn; take a look around you whenever you have time and never forget everything and every person that has the least place within your heart.”

Josh doesn’t know why he did it. Whether something inside of him told him to look that way or what– but when he shifted his vision slightly off of Kiss-Ass McGhee and to the right…he saw you, and you were looking right at him. He opened his mouth as if you’d be able to understand anything he could say from so far away, but instead, he chickened out again and brought the scotch to his lips and looking at the video playing on a portable screen.

It was weird, seeing the younger versions of them as the old videos and pictures played across the screen. At some of them, Josh couldn’t help but laugh– a real, hearty laugh. Like the one after the Championship hockey game where you could see him and Dillon flying in the air to add onto the dog pile on the ice, or the tacky themed spirit weeks. For the first time that night, he found himself looking back on his time here with a positive outlook.

Until you popped up on the screen, or better yet– a picture of the two of you in your final year of secondary– right after the school celebrated the fact that he had gotten drafted into the NHL by Columbus. The two of you were smiling so hard that it looked like your eyes were closed. You were facing each other, both sporting Columbus Blue Jackets gear– matching long sleeve shirts. He felt his throat tighten as the picture stayed up and his eyes took in the smiles, the laugh you two were sharing when the picture was taken and the way you were tucked into his side.

It was too much. He had to leave.

He couldn’t even finish off his scotch before he gave Tucker a few more bills and slapped them onto the counter. “Thanks for everything Tucker, I’ll see you later.”

Giving a knowing nod, Tucker put the bills into his pocket and picked up Josh’s cup as he turned away. Josh kept his head down as he made is way towards the exit of the gym, making sure he stuck to the back of the crowd as to not draw any attention to himself. When he made it out of the double gym doors, he raised his head a little more and walked through the next set, putting himself outside. It wasn’t enough; he needed more space away from this place, away from you. He knew he couldn’t drive, the four scotches would soon hit his system and he’s not irresponsible. He pulled out his phone to order an uber when he saw a taxicab waiting a few feet to his right. Sending a silent prayer up to whoever was listening, he jogged over to it, knocking on the passenger window. “Are you working?”

“Where do you need to go?”

Shit. He didn’t even think that far, he just followed his gut and left the damn gym. There were a ton of places he could go, but how would he even pick. He got into the back and closed the door. “Just drive away from here, I’ll pick a place to stop.” He could tell the driver thought he was batshit crazy, but didn’t question him anyway.

“Alright, wherever it is.”

As the taxi pulled out of the high school parking lot, Josh could only feel the pressure in his chest get tighter. This wasn’t supposed to happen, getting away from that place was supposed to make him feel better– not worse. He ran his fingers through his hand and then down his face as he closed his eyes and groaned. His head was throbbing as his conversation with Tucker and Kiss-Ass McGhee’s speech rang through his head.

“Everywhere I look around this place, holds a good memory…and sometimes when I’m down in the shitter, those places help.”

“…and never forget everything and every person that has the least place within your heart.”

Josh took a deep breath and let his hand fall from his face as he opened his eyes and saw what was ahead. “Take a right at the turn light and pull into the parking lot, please.” Not bothering to look at how much he grabbed, he handed over the bills as the driver came to a stop. “Thanks, have a good night.”

He got out of the cab and closed the door behind him, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans as he walked across the parking lot and to the door. Opening them, the bell above his head rang and he stepped into the building. When he was a teenager, the diner was always busy around this time– filled to the brim with students, which it was now…but none of them were his classmates.

He looked around and saw that the booth was empty. It was rough, getting his feet to move in that direction, but he did it anyway and soon enough he was standing right beside it. He stared at the glossed table, running his fingers over the cold surface before sitting down with his back to the door. He didn’t know why he was here and the anxiety was brewing within him as his legs bounced beneath the table and his fingers tapped in an untimely rhythm on the table as a memory flashed through his mind.

God, why was he here?

The bell above the door rang again and when he looked back, it was you. Before now, you’d always arrived at the diner at the same time– like you guys were synced somehow. But lately, one is always a little early or a little late– never on time. That was the first thing he’d noticed, but you’d noticed a lot more. Maybe it was the fact that you had always been more attentive when it came to noticing the small things– like how when he’d hold your hand he’d always rub his thumb against yours. How he no longer would come up from behind you and hug you and rest his head on top of yours before making a joke about how he was taller than you. The way he seemed tuned in to whatever you were saying, but the interest wasn’t there anymore.

And it’s not like he was the only guilty one. You hated to admit it, but there were times when you’d stare at your ceiling late at night in bed and make a pros and cons list of your relationship. Most of the time, the pros heavily outweighed the cons– but after that first year of juniors…it seemed as if the opposite side was starting to grow. You didn’t want to blame it on hockey, because that wasn’t the issue. Hell, you couldn’t pinpoint the issue even if it was blown up and glowing like a Vegas sign. But you wanted a reason; you needed for there to be a reason why things just didn’t feel the same.

Almost 3 years and now things started to feel different and you couldn’t help but wonder…have they always been different and you guys were too wrapped up in each other to notice?

When you sat down across from him, the shake you normally shared was already sitting in the middle– two straws probably put there by Mrs. O’Donnell no doubt. The summer was coming to an end, so the diner was busy with teens fresh off the water and chowing down on burgers and fries around you guys– but when Josh looked at you, it was as if you were the only two in the room. You tried to read his face, was it sad? Angry? What the hell was going on in that thick skull of his? Why did he call you here when you normally come to the diner together on Friday’s…which was tomorrow. You’d always been able to read him, you have since you were kids. But right now…there was nothing. When had that changed?

“Y/N…” Josh said, his voice a little low as he tapped his fingers on the table. He’d been going over in his head just how he was going to break the news to you. That he was going to stay with the Knights for the next two seasons. There was the subtle approach, the hinting around approach, but he couldn’t make up his mind.

“Is everything okay?” You asked, seeing the conflict hiding behind his eyes. It only made your heart race and your mind wonder if the one thing you’d wanted to avoid, was getting ready to happen. “Are you–“

“I’m staying in London with the Knights!” He just blurted it out and the moment the final word left his lips, he just stared at you in shock. The direct way…was not the way he wanted to go about it.

You let out a breath that you weren’t even aware you’d been holding. “Okay?”

Josh sat back, visibly in shock as his eyebrows furrows. “Okay? That’s it?”

“Well yeah…what else am I supposed to say?”

“I don’t know, maybe more than just Okay. I mean, you were suggesting I move over and play for Mississauga Steelheads….”

Now it was your time to be shocked, not only at how the tone in his voice had gone from shock to accusatory but the way he was forming the situation. “I suggested that because you said you were unsure about whether or not you were going to stay with London.”

“I never doubted that.”

“Oh my God, yes you did! You called me every night and complained about playing time or how you got moved down a line and the coach was switching you up constantly!” You caught yourself before your voice could get a little higher. “You were the one who talked about leaving the team first, not me.”

Josh could feel himself begin to get frustrated because he knew it was true. He knew that he’d called multiple times throughout the seasons to vent his frustrations with how it was going. But that was it– it was just pillow talk from far away, thinking that his girlfriend could be the person he could vent to with no judgments. But now here it was, biting him in the ass as you sat across from him. “Was it really just a suggestion?”

“What?”

“Why Mississauga? Why not Niagara? Ottawa? Hell, even fucking Plymouth? Why Mississauga when they’re at the bottom of the standings?”

You let yourself fall back into your booth in disbelief because you knew what he was insinuating. “I can’t believe you’d even…”

“Tell me, Y/N because I’m dying to know,” Now he was letting his anger take control and he knew it, but he couldn’t stop it. The only people, who were able to control it, were you and his mom– and right now, you were the target. ”I know why you didn’t apply to UBC.”

He leaned his arms on the table. “It’s all connecting, Y/N– it’s all starting to make sense. You didn’t apply because you’re scared. You’re scared to go off to Vancouver without a safety blanket and that’s not me– I’m not your safety blanket. I’m not something you can keep wrapped around your arm.” The more he spoke, the sharper his tone became and he couldn’t do anything to stop it even as he could see the emotion all over your face. “That’s why you told me Mississauga! Because…because you want me here, with you isn’t it? You want me playing on the shittiest team in the Central division so you won’t be scared. So you can have me on your arm and say you’re dating a hockey player.”

You could feel the tears build in your eyes as his words kept digging beneath your skin. “That’s not true and you don’t mean these things, you’re just angry and–“

“STOP!” His voice silenced the couple behind you and you wanted to sink into the booth at the unwanted attention. “Stop putting things in my head and don’t lie, because it’s true. You’re so scared that you’re willing to drag my career down by telling me that Mississauga would make me happier but it won’t! It won’t make me better, it won’t get me to the NHL and it won’t make me happy!”

You couldn’t even begin to process what he had just said because your mind was only focused on one thing– ‘you’re willing to drag my career down.’ At this point, there was no stopping the tears from falling down your flushed cheeks as you looked at him. “How fucking dare you say that I’m dragging your career down.”

He pushed himself away from the table, his eyes wide as if he had just understood what he said himself. “I–“

“No, don’t talk,” You closed your eyes and took a shaky breath to try and compose yourself. “You don’t get to accuse me of trying to sabotage your career when all I wanted for you, was to see you follow your dream and make it to the NHL. For the last year, I’ve put you and your dreams ahead of my own. Because I l-love you and I want you to succeed.”

You don’t know how you were able to do it, but you stood yourself up from the booth and managed to stand up, refusing to let him see how shaky your legs were. “I don’t care about dating a hockey player because newsflash Josh, we live in fucking Canada and they’re everywhere!” You went to walk away, but you reached up and held onto the necklace he had given you for Christmas. It was a gold locket with pictures of the both of you and sharing the chain with it, was a gold charm of his jersey number.

You brushed your hair to the side and undid the necklace, not bothering to clasp it back again as you dropped it on the table in front of him. He looked up at you for the first time since you moved out of the booth– not even the slightest look of regret on his face. “I didn’t apply to UBC, because I got accepted into Fanshawe.”

A look of recognition flashed across his face and it only made your heart hurt more. You put aside your dream school to be near him in London– news that you were planning on surprising him with today since the acceptance letter was resting in your purse. But instead, he accused you of holding him back. “Y/N I–“

You let your face go stone cold, ignoring the aching feeling in your chest as you stared into his blue eyes. “Have a nice life, Josh.”

You walked away from the booth, having trouble holding back any further tears from falling and focusing on walking straight without wanting to collapse from ache on the floor. As soon as the bell rang above the door and the summer breeze hit your face, the façade you’d maintained, crumbled down as the breeze carried your sobs away.

The clink of a glass plopping down in front of him tore Josh away from the depths of his memory. He kept his head down but looked up through his eyelashes to see a milkshake as a body slid in the other side of the booth. When he looked up, his jaw dropped.

“Let’s try this again, yeah?” You plopped the two straws into the milkshake and crumbled the wrappers, tossing them onto the counter. “Hi, Josh.”