Elliot's hockey game has been over for half an hour, but I'm still waiting outside of the arena, my breath turning to crystals in the nighttime air. The parking lot lights are as bright as the sun, and the tarmac is crowded with parents waiting for their kids and reporters with cameras.

Come on, El, where are you? They must be celebrating their victory in there, but I'm sick of waiting.

The doors fly open. Elliot and his team pile out, and the smile drops off his face when the cameras start flashing. Reporters bombard them, mostly Elliot and this other guy, about their win. Honestly I couldn't care less about hockey, but seeing how happy he was while playing made me warm inside. I lean against the brick wall and smile.

"Uh—well, I'm nothing without my team," Elliot mumbles. The other guy with him is tall with buzzed hair, and his voice is a lot louder and stronger than Elliot's. He takes over the talking part while Elliot stands at his side and looks at his feet. Apparently his name is Zane.

The Luke guy I saw on Facebook breaks apart from the crowd, two other dudes behind him. Tweedledum and Tweedledee over there must be Eric and Mason, the ones who ditched Elliot and made him feel like dirt.

"Wexler didn't pass to me the whole game," Luke says. "It's such bullshit."

"You killed it anyway," Tweedledum says, "and we won."

"Obviously I'm happy we won, just wish he didn't soak up all the glory."

Jealous assholes. So, this is why Elliot feels like he has no friends. I quickly peek over my shoulder to make sure no one is looking at me before I hock a snowball at the back of Luke's head.

"Aw, what the fuck?" he shouts. I tuck my hands behind my back and turn away. Luke narrows his eyes at me, but keeps walking, so I tune back into Elliot and the rest of his team. After they answer some questions, the reporters back off.

"You coming out later?" a guy asks Elliot. "Pizza Hut all you can eat, Coach is buying."

"I would, guys, but I can't. I'm taking a girl on date."

They woo and tease him, and one guy dumbly tells him to "get it in." I roll my eyes as Elliot waves to his team and walks up to me.

"A date?" I cock an eyebrow.

He wraps his arm around my shoulder. "Only if you say yes."

My cheeks tingle, but I laugh it off. "Yeah. Sure."

"You know, I think you're my good luck charm. I haven't played like that in ages. I was so focused."

"I don't know shit about hockey, but you were really good. You're so... slippery."

"I've been told that before."

"I also don't know why you think you're unpopular, those guys clearly love you."

He rubs the back of his neck. "No, not really. It's just post-game hype. Most of us don't go to the same school, so we don't talk much outside of practice."

"Well, that Luke asshole is just jealous. Trust me."

"Yeah." He squeezes me tighter. "I don't care what he thinks anymore."

Hand-in-hand, we head to our bus stop. A man stands across the street. I do a double take.

The cars speed by so fast, their lights blend into multicoloured streaks. Between the vehicles, I swear I see him: Colton Slater in a denim jacket, his fists balled at his sides, his face twisted in a menacing scowl. When the bus passes, the man in the denim jacket is just some guy I've never seen before, waiting for his ride.

My heart pounds. I grab onto Elliot for comfort, nuzzling my head onto the crook of his neck, and he holds me tighter.

"You okay?" he asks against my hair, and I nod a thousand times, because in this moment, I am okay. I'm safe with him. But there's still this voice in the back of my mind that whispers, You can't pretend forever.