Faking It With My Worst Enemy On Ice

Clare's POV

I tried to strut to the front door of the Falcons Hockey Team building... well, if you could call it strutting. It felt more like moving one foot in front of the other at a painfully slow pace, despite practicing all week. But here I was, still moving like a drenched chicken.

I took a deep breath and pushed open the door, only for the loud music to nearly shatter my eardrums. The air was thick with the smell of alcohol, cigarettes, and sweat. What had I expected from a bunch of hot-headed hockey players? My eyes scanned the crowd, searching for Zane, my step-brother.

It was his birthday today. Finally, I was ready to tell him everything I’d been practicing in front of the mirror for years. Tonight, I would make him see me... just me.

My heart raced as our eyes locked from across the room. The connection lasted barely a second before he turned back to his friends, but it was enough to make me forget everything I had planned to say. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach, throwing my thoughts into chaos.

He was wearing a gray leather jacket, and I was pretty sure he had only a black singlet underneath. Don’t ask how I knew. Maybe I guessed, or maybe... I bit my lower lip at the thought, instantly regretting it as the sharp taste of the lipstick my best friend Emily had forced me to wear hit my tongue.

“Holy crap!” I cursed under my breath, grabbing a drink and gulping it down in one go. The burn in my throat was nothing compared to the rush of adrenaline I felt, but I swallowed it down anyway and pushed through the crowd toward Zane.

I was almost there when someone bumped into me, spilling their drink all over my dress. “What the hell?!” I cursed again, raising my gaze in frustration.

“My apol—” The voice stopped mid-apology when we locked eyes.

I rolled my eyes as I looked into those sharp grey ones. “Seems like you need more than glasses.”

“My bad,” the voice said dramatically, reaching for a napkin to wipe the mess. “If you were maybe an inch taller, I might have seen you.”

My face flushed with embarrassment. “Rhys!” I yelled, immediately regretting it as the room fell silent and all eyes turned toward us.

“What’s wrong, love?” He whispered, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

“You’re gonna regret this,” I muttered, bumping his arm in a half-hearted shove as I stormed away, ignoring the stares.

Zane was no longer with his friends. I figured he must’ve gone back to his room. I rushed to the bathroom to fix my dress before going to find him. The gift bag, his favorite hockey skates, a wristwatch, and a perfume, still hung from my right hand.

It took me thirty minutes to get my dress looking somewhat decent. I fixed my lipstick and makeup just the way Emily had taught me, finally feeling ready to meet Zane... ready to step out of the shadows.

I had checked every inch of the building, but Zane was nowhere to be found. Not in his room, not at the party, not by the pool, not in the gym, nor the rink. My legs were aching from walking around in these sharp heels.

Dejected, I was heading back to the party when I saw him come out of a room.

“Zane,” I called, rushing toward him.

But then someone else came out of the room, freezing me in my tracks. My breath caught in my throat when I saw the face. “Vanessa,” I said, needing to be sure.

“Hi, Clare,” Vanessa greeted me, her voice as cold and sinister as ever.

I stepped back, my pulse hammering in my ears. This couldn’t be happening. Zane would never be with the girl who made high school a living hell for me.

“Clare, you have something to say?” Zane's voice snapped me back to reality, distant and cold, just like always.

I swallowed my fear and handed him the gift bag. “I got you this—” The words caught in my throat as I saw the hickeys on his neck.

My eyes flicked to Vanessa’s neck, and she had the same marks. What was going on? Why did they both have the same hickey marks and come out of the same room? I refused to believe what I was thinking. My eyes glistened with unshed tears.

Vanessa, sensing my confusion, adjusted the collar of her gown, drawing more attention to the marks. “What do you think? I can give you some details to write about.”

Zane turned toward her with a frown. “Are you picking on my sister?”

I felt something sharp twist in my chest. So, that was all I was to him? His sister?

“I’m not picking on her, Zane.” Vanessa drawled, linking her arm with his. “She just loves writing smut stories about you, and I love reading them.”

My stomach dropped. Her cruel smile was the same one she wore in high school, the one that kept me on edge every day. I bit down on the inside of my cheeks, forcing back the tears. This wasn’t high school. No one knew about my book here. I could…

“Are you going to deny it?” Her voice cut through my thoughts, sharp and accusing.

Before I could say anything, she opened the little golden purse on her arm and threw four papers at me. My heart stopped for a fraction of a second as I saw the contents.

They were pages from Dark Nights, a book I had written about all my sexual fantasies involving my brother.

The students downstairs began gathering, their cameras clicking.

I dropped to the floor, trembling as I tried to collect the papers. Was this really happening? Was I going to relive the hell of high school? Was I going to be labeled a freak again?

Tears threatened to spill from my eyes.

“What’s the meaning of this?” Zane’s voice was no longer cold or distant. Instead, it held something worse, disgust.

I lifted my eyes slowly, and there, in his hand, was one of the papers. His expression mirrored his voice. Was I that disgusting to him now?