All Chapters of Break The Ice: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

"We looked everywhere for you, you know," Leo said over the noise of cheers echoing in the rink. "We were understaffed distributing the water, but Jade wasn’t worried about that; she was just worried about you." Guilt gnawed at me as I glanced at her in the stands with the cooler hanging on her shoulders. We were at the rink where the hockey team was having a mock match among themselves, and other students had crowded into the bleachers. Each time I heard a stick slam against the puck and the crowd scream, "Goal!" I didn’t need to look to know it was Tristan. I wished they’d all stop screeching—he wasn’t the only one on his team. In fact, I thought it was unfair to put him and George in the same group. But I didn’t care. Instead, I was patiently waiting for the second half so I could give out the water and leave for home. "Still, one hundred and thirteen missed calls." I raised a brow at him. "If I was dead, I wouldn’t be answering any of that." "Trust me," he said, folding

**MYLES** The room smelled of antiseptic mixed with the stomach-churning scent of open pill bottles scattered on the table beside the bed, the bed where she lay with the covers up to her neck. Thirteen hours, and Ma's fever still hasn't broken. I sat at the edge of the bed, staring at the wall, listening to the silence in the room. Yesterday, I’d walked in to find her half-slumped on the chair, midway through preparing for work, and since then, we've been like this. Quiet, with the weight of our last confrontation still hanging heavy between us. But even though I don't say anything, even though she doesn't talk to me, I stay. I felt her shift on the bed, her speech slower than usual. "I told you not to stay. I said I can handle myself, Carino." She looked at the clock on the table next to the medicine. "There's still time; you can make it. Don't you have practice?" I bit my cheek; she still didn't know that I had been kicked off the team. "That can wait." I forced a small smile.

**JADE**"Myles, are you okay?" I asked. He lifted his face from the kitchen sink, looked at me strangely, and nodded as he breathed, "Yeah. I'm just tired, that's all." I wasn’t stupid; I knew that wasn’t the case. It was instinct, the same way I knew there had been no mugger. That was an aggressive make-out mark. The reason his face had turned red when I touched it. But that bruise on his face—he’d been hit, and not by any mugger. "Give me a moment," he said as he walked around me, past the event where the audience had begun to clear out, and into the restroom. The crowd in the hall had started to thin. The ones remaining indulged in drunken revelry, the conversations louder than the music. But I was lost in thought, barely noticing any of it. What was wrong with Myles, really? Whatever it was... I walked out of the room, glaring at the figure emerging from the stairs. That had everything to do with it. Rage crawled up my chest. He caused it all. Myles had worked so

"...I don't really need you anymore." My eyes flew open, meeting the stark white ceiling above. Cold air chilled my bare upper body, bandaged and covered in medical stickers. I turned to my side, finding it empty except for a nurse asleep at the far end of the room. I swallowed hard. It was all in my head. He was all in my head. It stung that he wasn’t at school, yet he still ruled a corner of my mind, a part that wanted to crawl back to him and beg for the deal. But it was pointless now, with expulsion looming over me. I sighed, listening to the quiet—a fragile comfort keeping me together. But I felt someone nearby, this time real. I opened my eyes to see a second nurse. "You're awake." She pointed to the door. "Your friends want to see you. Feeling up to visitors?" My chest clenched, a different kind of pain than the one in my bones. How long had it been? They were still waiting outside? "I don't want to see them," I said. The nurse blinked, her brows furrowing. "Are you sur

"...My sincerest apologies for how my actions might have hurt everyone." Tristan muttered into the mic, then turned to me. "Especially Myles..."The next day found us in the school hall, standing before a sea of students, their eyes sympathetic as they looked at him. They didn’t show this kind of pity for me. I’d gotten used to that.And Tristan played along, charisma oozing from him, hypnotizing. But I wasn’t fooled. I saw the glint in his eyes when he looked at me, the way he tilted his head, making it seem like he was adjusting his collar, or how he added a purr to his voice, his tone sending a shiver up my spine."We love you, Tristan!" someone screamed from the crowd."Thank you. Really, all of you," he replied, pausing for effect. Then he turned to me again. "Myles, if you can find it in your heart to forgive me, I promise..." His voice was smug, almost taunting. "Never to make you my plaything again."Applause broke out, the sound swinging in waves, echoing the confusion poundi