Ruined on Ice

Chapter Five

~Taylor~

The cold wind whipped across Linden's quad, biting at my already swollen eyes. I kept my head down, hood up on my Linden cheer jacket, trying to blend into the stream of students rushing between classes. It wasn’t working. My face felt puffy and raw from last night’s crying marathon. Every time I caught my reflection in a window, I looked like I had gone three rounds with a boxing bag.

I was pissed.

Not just at Rory anymore, at him. Maverick Stone. Who the hell did he think he was, breaking Rory’s nose like some self-appointed avenger? It wasn’t his fight. I wasn’t some damsel in distress waiting for the quiet, broody enforcer to ride in and fix my mess. I could handle my own humiliation, thank you very much.

“Taylor, slow down,” Becky called, jogging to catch up with me. Sam was right behind her, scarf flapping in the wind.

“I’m fine, guys,” I said for the tenth time, forcing a tight smile. “Really. It’s not a big deal.”

Sam snorted. “Your eyes look like you got stung by a thousand bees, and you’re telling us it’s not a big deal? Babe, you slapped on more concealer than a drag queen this morning.”

A laugh escaped my lips, but it came out shaky. They had shown up at my dad’s house first thing this morning with coffee and fierce loyalty, trash talking Rory for as long as they could. They didn't ask me questions. That was why I loved them.

We cut across the quad toward the communications building. A group of girls whispered as we passed, one of them snickering behind her hand while staring right at me.

Sam stopped dead. “The f**k is so funny?”

“Sam—” I started.

She was already marching over, shoulders squared. “Got something to say b***h? Say it to her face instead of giggling like a middle-schooler.”

The girl’s eyes widened. “I—I didn’t—”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Sam glared until the girl scurried off with her friends. Becky looped her arm through mine, squeezing gently.

“You don’t have to do this alone, Tay. We’ve got you.”

“I know,” I whispered. “I just……I can’t even go back to my dorm right now. Maeve’s stuff is everywhere. Her stupid red hair on my bathroom counter. I might actually burn the place down.”

Classes dragged. I sat in the back row of my media ethics lecture, barely hearing a word. My phone stayed on silent, but the notifications kept piling up. Friends checking in. Strangers I barely knew sending sad-face emojis. The video of me and Rory was probably still circulating, but now it had competition, the clip of Maverick smashing Rory’s face.

Damn it.

By the time I left the building, my anger had settled into a low, steady burn.

We were heading toward the athletic center, Might as well show up for cheer practice and pretend I still belonged there, when I spotted her.

Maeve.

She was coming out of the student union, red hair unmistakable, head ducked low like she could hide from the entire campus. The second she saw me, her eyes went wide with panic. She tried to spin around and disappear back inside.

“Oh no you don’t,” Sam muttered.

Becky and Sam moved like they had secretly rehearsed it, cutting off her escape routes. Maeve froze, trapped between us.

“You f*****g b***h,” I spat before I could stop myself. Anger was flooding my veins again, and I was itching tear off her head.

She flinched. “Taylor, please, I—”

“You what?” My voice rose, echoing across the sidewalk. Students slowed down, phones coming out. I didn’t care. “You slept with my boyfriend? In our dorm? While I was buying you f*****g Christmas presents?”

Tears welled in her eyes, but they only made me angrier. I stepped closer, my heart hammering.

“You knew how much he meant to me. He was my first, Maeve. The only guy I’ve ever—” My throat tightened, but I pushed through. “And you let him f**k you like it was nothing!”

Before I could stop myself or even think it through, I slapped her.

The sound cracked through the air, followed by the shocked gasps of some onlookers. My palm stung. Maeve’s head snapped to the side, a red mark spreading across her cheek.

“You f*****g b***h!” I screamed. All the hurt, the humiliation, the heartbreak, it poured out of me in ugly waves. “How could you? How long? Was it funny? Did you laugh about it after I left for class?”

Maeve was crying now, holding her face. “It just happened—”

“Bullshit!”

Becky gently grabbed my arm, pulling me back before I could do anything worse. Sam stood like a guard dog, glaring at anyone who dared get too close.

My chest heaved. I felt dizzy, nauseous, alive with rage and grief all at once.

My phone chimed in my pocket.

I pulled it out with shaking hands, and to my disgust, Rory’s name flashed on the screen.

Rory: Please baby, it’s not what you think. Let me explain. I love you. Come on, Tay. Don’t throw us away over one mistake.

I scoffed so hard it hurt. “Bastard.”

I blocked him. Simple as that. My thumb hovered for half a second, then pressed down. The satisfaction was hollow, but it was something.

“Come on,” Sam said softly. “Let’s get you to practice. Or skip it. Whatever you want.”

We started walking again, the girls flanking me like bodyguards. The athletic center loomed ahead, banners for the Wolves flapping in the wind. I tried to breathe normally, to shove everything down so I could at least fake it through practice.

“Wait,” Becky said suddenly, eyes widening. “Is that…….Maverick Stone?”

My stomach dropped.

He was walking straight toward us from the direction of the hockey offices. Black long-sleeve shirt stretched across his broad shoulders, the fabric clinging to his arms. Baggy dark pants, hands shoved in his pockets, that same intense expression he always wore. His knuckles were still bruised and scabbed from last night.

He stopped a few feet away. Hazel eyes locked on mine.

My friends tensed.

Maverick cleared his throat, voice low and rough. “I need to talk to Taylor. Alone.”

Sam crossed her arms. “She doesn’t need any more bullshit today, Stone.”

Becky looked between us, uncertain.

I stared at him, heart racing for reasons I didn’t want to check. The memory of slamming into his chest last night flashed through my mind, his hands steadying me, the brief flicker of concern in his eyes before I had snapped at him.

Unfairly so.

“What the hell?” My voice came out a lot angrier than I thought it would. “You’ve got some nerve showing up after what you did last night.”

Maverick didn’t flinch. Instead He exhaled, and nodded. “Please.”

Oh?

Did he just tell me please?

The word sounded so foreign coming from him.

Becky squeezed my arm once more. “We’ll be right over there if you need us.”

Sam shot him a warning look before they stepped away, giving us a small bubble of privacy in the middle of the busy campus walkway.

I crossed my arms, trying to ignore how tall he was, how the cold air seemed to cling to him. “What do you want, Maverick?”