Faking Forever With The Hockey Captain

Chapter Eight

Zoey’s POV

I couldn't meet with Ryan. I had a lot to fix with my class assessments.

The new post that was posted earlier was still on my screen when I walked into Evergreen the next morning.

‘IF THEY WANT EVERYONE TO BELIEVE THEY ARE TOGETHER, MAYBE THEY SHOULD STOP PRETENDING THEY AREN’T.’

I had read it so many times that the words had stopped looking real.

Someone wanted us to believe something.

That was what bothered me.

Not the rumor itself. Not even the pictures anymore.

Someone was pushing this.

And they were doing it carefully enough to know exactly what would make people talk.

“Please tell me you are not reading that again.”

I locked my phone and looked up.

Ava stood beside my locker with two cups of coffee in her hands, her hair still slightly messy from the morning. She held one toward me.

“I wasn't reading it.”

“You've been standing here for thirty seconds with your phone in your hand.”

“I was thinking.”

“About the post.”

I took the coffee.

“You're annoying before eight in the morning, Ava.”

“And you're fuzzing lying before eight in the morning.” she replied. Ava doesn't use any F-word, she'd rather say it in a less slurry way according to how she puts it. It still makes me laugh every time I see her do that.

I opened my locker, mostly because I didn't want to look at her.

She leaned against the locker beside mine.

“So what did Ryan say?”

I glanced at her.

“He didn't say anything.”

“But you met him yesterday.”

“I couldn't stay for long in Ridgeview, everyone was already staring in the first place. It was quite uncomfortable.”

“But you wished you stayed long?”

I pulled out my notebook.

“Ava.”

“What?”

“You know I hate when you do that.”

“Do what?”

“Make everything sound suspicious.”

She took a sip of her coffee.

“I don't have to make anything sound suspicious. You two are doing a pretty good job of that yourselves.”

I shut my locker.

Before I could answer, someone stepped around the corner carrying a stack of folders.

Olivia Grant.

She had been student council president since the beginning of the year, and she treated that position with the seriousness of someone who had spent half her life preparing for it. Her uniform was always neat, her folders always organized, and she had a habit of looking at people for a second longer than necessary when she thought they are not up to her par.

She stopped in front of me.

“Mrs. Dawson wants the revised festival schedule before lunch.”

“I'll have it to her.”

“Zoey, you said that yesterday.”

“I changed the volunteer section after the new list came in.”

“You changed three sections.”

“Because three sections needed changing.”

Olivia's mouth tightened.

“That isn't how a committee works.”

I stared at her.

“You're talking to me about committee work when you changed the stage schedule without asking anyone?” I was angry at her. She just resumed school after a week break she gave herself for God knows what, and now she's back trying to control the whole thing.

“That was because the original schedule was a mess.”

“Ohh, you think what we did before you came around was bullshit?”

“I didn't say that.”

“You didn't have to.”

Ava stepped between us slightly.

“Can we not do this in the hallway?”

Olivia looked at her.

“This doesn't involve you.”

Ava's eyebrows lifted.

“Then maybe don't have it in front of me.”

I almost smiled.

Olivia looked back at me.

“There's another problem.”

“What?”

She lowered her voice.

“The rumor.”

My smile disappeared. I knew Olivia was trying to use the rumour to deflect. She knows she was in the wrong, dismissing my work, but I'll let her have it.

“What about it?”

“People are starting to question whether the festival committee is still neutral.”

I frowned.

“Because of some gossip page?”

“Because the gossip page has pictures of you and...”

She didn't call his name.

“That doesn't make them true.”

“I know that. You know that. But not everyone cares about the truth.”

Olivia gritted her teeth saying that. I wonder if she meant what she said. She shifted the folders against her chest.

“And if people think you and you know who….are using the festival as an excuse to spend time together, they are going to question every decision you make.”

I felt heat rise into my face.

“We are not doing that.”

“I didn't say you were.”

“You keep saying things without saying them.”

Olivia's expression hardened.

“Because I'm trying to warn you before someone else decides this is a reason to remove you from the committee.”

That shut me up.

Ava looked at her.

“Who would remove her?”

Olivia glanced toward the office doors.

“Mrs. Dawson has already been asked whether the committee should reconsider its student leaders.”

I stared at her.

“By who?”

“She didn't tell me.”

“Then how do you know?”

“Because people talk to me.”

There was something in the way she said it that made me wonder whether that was all she knew.

I took a step closer.

“Are you worried about the festival, or are you worried about me?”

Her eyes narrowed.

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“You tell me.”

For a moment, the three of us stood in the middle of the hallway while students moved around us.

Then Olivia gave a small, controlled smile.

“I'm worried about the festival. If you want to make everything personal, that's your choice.”

She walked away.

Ava watched her go.

“I don't trust her.”

“You don't trust anyone.”

“I trust you.”

“You just accused me of secretly dating Ryan.”

“I said the rumor was suspicious.”

I looked at her.

She sighed.

“Fine. I don't think you're dating him.”

“Thank you.”

“But I do think something is changing.”

I didn't answer her.

Ava’s last word followed me through every class.

It stayed when someone at the next table whispered Ryan's name.

It stayed when I found another screenshot of the gossip post tucked beneath my notebook.

And it was still there when I finally left school.

I went straight to the community center.

Ryan was already waiting.

He stood near the entrance with his hockey bag over one shoulder, talking to one of the volunteers. When he saw me, he excused himself and walked over.

“You look angry.”

“Oh, of course not. I'm fine.” I put on a fake smile.

“You sure are not.”

“And since when do you know me?”

He was still staring at me, not blinking an eye.

“Okay, fine. I am.”

“What happened?”

“Olivia.”

He frowned.

“And who is that?”

“The president of the student union.”

“Oh, the one you said wasn't around. What did she do?”

I told him about the committee and the possibility that someone had asked for us to be replaced.

His expression changed.

“That could affect the whole project.”

“I know.”

He dropped his bag beside the table.

“Did she say who asked?”

“No.”

“Do you believe her?”

“I don't know.”

He pulled out a chair for me before taking the one across from me.

That small gesture caught me off guard.

I sat down.

“She also thinks people are going to question every decision we make.”

Ryan rubbed a hand over the back of his neck.

“They already are.”

“Then we need to fix it.”

“I agree.”

I looked at him.

“You said that yesterday.”

“Because I still agree.”

“That isn't a solution.”

“No.”

He looked down at the festival papers, but neither of us reached for them.

The room around us was busy with people moving chairs and carrying boxes, yet the space between us felt strangely separate from all of it.

Ryan finally lifted his eyes.

“Zoey.”

“What?”

“What if denying it is making everything worse? I know there's nothing going on here.” He gestured his hand pointing his hands between both of us.

“But—”

I stared at him.

“You're thinking what I think you're thinking.”

“I don't know what you're thinking.”

“You do.”

He gave me a faint smile.

“Maybe.”

I leaned back.

“Say it.”

His smile disappeared.

“What if we stop trying to convince everyone there is nothing between us?”

My heart gave an uncomfortable little jump.

I hated that he noticed things about me.

I hated even more that lately, I had started noticing things about him too.

“Ryan,” I said slowly, “what exactly are you suggesting?”