Icebreaker

by A.L. Graziadei

“You superstars need some privacy?” Zero asks. “’Cause it looks like some kinky-ass shit is about to go down here.”

But then Coach goes and says, “I want you three on a line together,” and all my respect for him goes out the window.

There’s a flash of something hot and dangerous through my chest. I feel my eyes widen, my heart stutter. Jaysen makes being violently pissed off look good.

Because women kicking ass in their sports means less to them than an unproven seventeen-year-old boy with nothing to show for himself but a name.

“It’s very small and tarnished beyond repair, but yeah, it’s there.”

I almost don’t capitalize on it because I’m too busy going hhnnnngg.

Nova strictly reads hurt fic involving her favorite fictional guys. If there’s any hint of comfort in it, she’s not about it. Sometimes I worry about her.

angst hurt/no comfort queen

“Same page?” he asks softly, a slight tremor in his voice. “Same page,” I almost whisper.

Depression doesn’t care who you are or what you’ve been through, she said. It’s an illness that can happen to anyone.