Chapter 49

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chapter dedicated to @riagrov thankyou for commenting and i hope you enjoy the rest of the story xx 

I spend most of the night thinking about Tim, tossing and turning in bed with repetitive nightmares. I still don't know what the drugs – or lack of drugs – in his system means. They told me he overdosed on heroin. They told me he'd been addicted for months. They told me that's what killed him.

They lied.

But why?

And more... who is giving me these random clues? I'm no Velma, I need a lot more than a few stray sheets of paper if they want me to figure this out on my own. I'm not smart – this might be the first time I ever wished I was sharper. Whoever is sending me this shit has a lot more faith in me than they should.

.

.

.

At work the next day, I'm beyond exhausted. I barely got any sleep last night, even after using Darcy to do some maladaptive daydreaming.

I stay in the ticketing booth, cleaning up after the other staff that had KFC. I sigh audibly, stress clenching my insides, crawling up the walls of my stomach.

Can I just ignore what the letters are trying to tell me? Can I go back to oblivion of believing what happened to Tim was some horrible accident? Will finding out that he was murdered or something... will that help me sleep at night? Will that even take the pain away?

I hear a loud crash on the ice and open the blinds so I can peer out the window and check on the hockey players. Across the rink I see Darcy and Callum – but they're not playing nice.

It looks like a fight is about to unfold. Teachers fighting with their students? Not classy – though I'm sure Coach Goscicki thought about it hundreds of times.

That's when I see the fight is being escalated. Callum grabs Darcy by the shirt and holds him up against the barricade.

Darcy seems to be smirking, and I'm sure he said something demeaning that made Callum question his intelligence. Callum's hand seems to be creeping up to grab Darcy's neck, and I can't stop myself from intervening.

"Callum, stop!" I shout, at the door of my office, across the rink.

Everyone looks at me and I realise the mistake I've made.

Callum releases Darcy and sends him off the ice. Darcy retreats to the change rooms.

I take it as my cue to hide away in the office, wondering what everyone thinks now. I'm already being called a 'slut' now for kissing Fletcher and Darcy on the same night.

I wait for the hockey team to pack up before I go outside to clean the grandstands, the public session starts in half an hour and I'll run out of time.

I lean down, picking up a skate hire coupon from the floor of the second level of the grandstand, when someone pats my arm.

I spin around, making the smallest squeak.

Darcy stands before me, lightly sweating, cheeks flushed.

"Hey," I say, a small smile on my lips. "Are you ok?"

"I'm fine," he says, grabbing my arm lightly and pulling me to the side so he can speak low to me, "Is there something going on with you and Coach?"

I blush, "What? Of course not!"

"You called him by his first name." He doesn't believe me. He reads me like the many books scattered on his bedroom floor.

"He's my brother's friend. We—" Do I tell him we kissed? Am I obligated to disclose that now? It meant nothing, why should I freak Darcy out?

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