Page 93 of So This Is War
Winnie:That’s right, he did. Well, I’m more convinced now than ever.
Levi:There’s no way she’s a fucking domme. Trust me, I would know.
Penny:Uh, what now? Care to elaborate on that?
Blakely:*Leans in*
Ollie:Are we getting a little hint at Posey’s sex life?
Winnie:The tattoo, now this hint. Is Posey a kinky fella?
Levi:Keep working on the double down. I’m reporting back after warm-ups.
I set my phone down and look up to see Eli, Silas, Pacey, and Halsey all staring down at me. “Uh . . . what’s up, guys?”
“Who the hell are you texting?” Silas asks, gesturing to my phone.
“No one in particular, why?” I tuck my phone away in my bag just in case one of the girls text back.
“Because you’ve been buried in your phone since the minute you got in the locker room,” Pacey says.
“So? So were you guys. You’re always buried in your phones.”
“No, we weren’t. We were discussing the different William Sonoma bread in a bag flavorings,” Eli says. “And from someone who loves a pumpkin flavor, you sure as hell were silent when Halsey said the pumpkin crumble one was shit.”
I sneer at Halsey. “Your palate is undignified.”
“Says the guy who eats bologna daily,” Halsey says.
I stand from the bench and move past them, heading out of the locker room and toward the ice for some warm-ups. “First of all, the bologna I get isn’t just any old Oscar Mayer bologna; this is refined bologna from a deli. The finest in the land. And second of all, there have been articles about how people who like bologna are more intelligent than non-bologna lovers.”
“Where did you see those articles?” Pacey asks, following me.
“On the internet.”
“Show them to us,” Silas says.
“We’re about to warm up, I can’t.” We walk down the tunnel, and just before I head out on the ice, they all stop me by forming a wall before I can enter the rink.
“What is going on with you?” Pacey asks. “You’re acting weird, you barely talk to us, and you have shifty eyes.”
“I don’t have shifty eyes,” I say, but then I catch myself looking to the side out of fear that Coach Wood is lurking.
“Yes, you do,” Silas says, pointing at my face. “You just shifted. It’s like you’re waiting for someone to pop out at you.”
I grip my stick tightly. “You never know with social media these days. This TikTok craze has made us all vulnerable. Anything for views, that’s their motto, even if it’s at the expense of scaring the piss out of us.”
Eli scratches the back of his neck. “You know, Penny was showing me some scare videos the other day.”
“See,” I say. “So pardon me for being prepared. You suckers are going to be the ones who are caught, and don’t come crying to me when your scared face becomes a meme for the internet to mock.”
I try to move forward again, but Pacey stops me once more. “That’s not it. There’s something else going on, and you’re not telling us what it is.”
I sigh heavily. “You’re right. Something is going on.” Pressing my lips together, I look between my friends and on a pained expression, I say, “I have a serious case of blue balls. Think one of you can take care of it for me?”
“Jesus Christ,” Silas says as he turns and moves toward the ice.
“Is that a no?” I call out as Eli and Pacey follow closely. They don’t bother looking back.
