The Backup Player Stole the Captain's Girl

Riley's POV

The night the team wins again, the roar inside the arena could raise the roof.

On the ice, the captain has his arm around the new cheer captain, spinning her under the lights. His skates cut clean lines across the ice. Teammates whistle and shout, someone yells "ask her out!", someone else films on their phone. Everyone waits for me to show up and make a scene. Cry, stumble onto the ice, drop to my knees and beg him to come back. Pathetic, like every time before.

But no one knows I'm in the back of the locker room right now, pressed against a cold metal locker.

The quiet backup player has his hand on the back of my neck, his voice barely steady. "You sure about this?"

I push up on my toes and kiss him first.

Everyone knows Blake Hartwell's planning to ask out the cheer captain. He even told his teammates specifically not to let me find out. Too bad walls have ears. Someone couldn't resist stirring the pot and told me anyway.

Everyone expects me to lose it.

After all these years, they've watched me trail after Blake like a shadow. Middle school to now, I've been his shadow. Carrying his bag, buying his breakfast, screaming in the stands every time he scores.

They're certain I'll charge onto the ice and ask him why he's doing this to me.

Not this time.

I stand at the arena entrance, watching through the glass doors as the golden couple glide under the spotlight. Blake's hand rests on Brooke's waist, his skating smooth and showy. He's always been the center of attention. Never lacking applause or girls staring.

The coach walks over from the boards, frowning. "Go talk to him. Keep him from doing something stupid. We have practice tomorrow."

I glance down at the sports drink in my hand and toss it in the trash.

"Not my problem."

I turn to leave.

Behind me, everyone goes quiet. Then the whispers start. I hear someone say "what the hell" and Blake's skates scraping to a stop. I don't look back, but I can picture his face. That annoyed look he gets.

Just as I'm about to reach the exit, I stop.

The whispers get louder.

"Told you!"

"She can't help herself!"

I walk back toward the boards. Blake's already smirking. He releases Brooke and glides over to the barrier, looking down at me. Probably waiting for tears. Waiting for me to beg.

I don't say anything. I just lift my wrist and unfasten the braided bracelet in front of everyone.

He made it for me on his sixteenth birthday. I've worn it for three years straight.

"Here." I hold the bracelet out over the barrier.

Blake doesn't take it. He lets out a cold laugh. "I'm not a trash can."

I nod and smile. The kind that comes from relief.

Then I turn around, drop the bracelet into the trash can by the boards, push through the arena doors, and walk into the night.

The shocked voices cut off when the door closes behind me. I don't stop. I don't look back.

After I leave, the ice goes quiet for a beat.

Teammates exchange glances. Blake's face darkens.

Finally someone breaks the silence.

"She's just putting on a show. Trying to get attention."

"Right? Classic move. I bet she'll text him an apology tonight."

"Probably crying outside the door right now."

Blake listens and his expression softens slightly. He's known me since we were eight. How many times have I pulled this "walk away angry" act? I always come crawling back, apologizing, saying I shouldn't have made a scene.

He knows me too well. Without him, I'm nothing.

Thinking this, Blake's mouth quirks up. He turns and pulls Brooke close, murmurs something in her ear. She pushes him playfully, and the guys start whooping again, the celebration picking back up.

No one notices the bracelet in the trash, buried under empty drink cans.

When I step outside, light rain starts to fall.

No umbrella, and I don't want to go back for one. The water soaks through my hair and clothes. Cold, but it clears my head.

Campus is quiet except for the faint cheers still coming from the arena. I walk the empty paths slowly, letting the rain grow heavier.

My mind keeps replaying scenes from my past life.

Same night. Same victory party. Back then I burst onto the ice and dropped to my knees in front of everyone, sobbing and begging Blake not to leave me. His eyes were frozen over. He called me pathetic. He called me disgusting.

His teammates doubled over laughing. Brooke hung on his arm and looked at me with pity.

Later the school pushed me out. Blake's family stopped helping me. I had nothing, ended up on the streets, collapsed in an alley one night during a storm.

Right before I died, only one person found me.

The quiet boy who always sat at the far end of the bench.

He took off his jacket and covered me with it, lifted me into his arms and ran through the rain, calling my name over and over. By then I couldn't hear him anymore. The last thing I remember is the warmth of his tears falling on my face, mixing with the cold rain.

I stop walking and look up at the sky. Rain blurs my vision, but my head has never felt clearer.

Someone gave me a second chance. This time I won't hand my fate over to a selfish, indifferent man. I won't throw away my dignity for someone who never cared.

This time I'm going to live with my eyes open.

Live for myself.

Live selfishly.

Live free.