Slapshot

Chapter 8: "Feel Okay"

Taylor's POV

I feel like the word upset was a very big understatement. Devastated might work. Anything that meant "terribly sad", because that's exactly how I felt. I'll tell you the whole story.

After the hockey practice, I told Jonathan that I wasn't up for staying for a 1 on 1 practice. He said it was fine, since we already practiced a bit at lunch to make up for it.

Going home, I knew fully well that I had a test and an essay due the next day. Right when I got home, I had gotten a text from Braden. He wanted to know why I didn't want to talk to him at practice, he thought I hated him now, or something (even though I already told him that it was so Coach didn't suspect anything). Anyway, I didn't answer his message. He started spamming my phone with messages, and because I didn't answer, apparently that was more proof that I was "over him" or something.

So Monroe, Jake, and Nick all texted me that night as well asking what was going on. The reason I hadn't answered was because I was reading. I wanted to get my mind off the harsh events of the day, so I started reading. However when I was done my book, I was faced with the tough reality that the day had existed. So I read all of their messages. Some were a bit harsh. I lied on my bed and cried. And when I was done crying, I fell asleep, but I'd just wake up an hour later and cry again.

When I had gotten to school this morning, I was faced with the tough fact that I didn't do my homework. I'd get penalized for the essay late, and I had a test to write. I hadn't studied at all. I had been doing so well in English, but the fact that my essay was late would surely drop my mark. And the fact that I didn't study for an AP math test, well this was a bit worse. I went through the test not knowing what I was doing. I wasn't focused, because I was too busy panicking and thinking about Braden and the others. It was all too much. I finished the test, leaving too much blank space. I had to. I couldn't do it. I escaped to the washroom, and that's where my story picks up.

I was sat on a stall in the washroom, crying my eyes out. I had texted Jonathan to come, because I honestly didn't know what to do. I felt so terrible. I don't even know why I texted him, what's he going to do to help me? I just needed to talk to someone.

It hurt just thinking about my mark. Imagine being at a high 90 in grade 12 AP math, it's a big accomplishment. Now my mark would sky rocket down to a 70 or an 80 all because I failed a stupid test. And it was all Braden's fault.

"Taylor?" I hear someone say, the door opening and closing fast. "I came as fast as I could, are you okay?" It was Jonathan. He even sounded out of breath.

I peeked out the crack between the door, seeing him look around, surprised. He's probably never seen a girls' washroom before. There was a girl at the sink, washing her hands. "You can't be in here." She says.

"Oh well." Jonathan shrugs.

"I'm gonna tell the principal." She warns.

"I don't care," Jonathan answers, and the girl leaves.

Once she leaves, I know the coast is clear, so I step out of the stall. Jonathan's eyes lock on me, he looks surprised. "Wow. You look terrible." He says.

I can't even give a smile. I walk over to the mirror, seeing he was right. I had tear stains down my cheeks, black dots and lines everywhere because of the running mascara. My eyes were completely black underneath too, and even my hair was messed up.

"Why are you so upset?" He asks.

"I failed my math test," I whisper, for I didn't want to cry anymore.

"That's why you made me come?" He asks.

"It's serious!" I say. I take a paper towel and start rubbing all underneath my eyes.