The last place I wanted to go on a random Wednesday night was the Scott mansion. But my mom had other plans.
A completely annoying plan.
"Quit looking like you had a problem with the whole world," she said under her breath as we stepped onto the front stairs.
"I was trying," I rolled my eyes and she shook her head.
I looked at the massive estate in front of us.
The mansion looked exactly how I imagined a retired NHL star's house would look - huge, expensive, intimidating, and unnecessarily large, like it would take you almost an hour just to get to your room. And unfortunately, this house belonged to Wade Scott's dad, my mom's fiancé.
And there I was, stuck spending the night and eating dinner with them, acting like I didn't want to throw a chair at his son's face.
"Please smile, honey," my mom begged.
I didn't listen, and even before she could scold me, the massive door opened. Two maids stood on either side, and a man in a suit greeted us.
Richard Scott. Wade's father, who looked so much like him that it was almost unsettling. Same blond hair and same green eyes. The only difference was his dad's face looked kinder and warmer.
Which made me question how Wade had turned out the way he did.
"Diana, honey." He hugged and kissed my mom before his attention shifted to me. "Layla, I'm glad you came."
I forced a polite smile.
"Good evening, Mr. Scott," I greeted.
And I knew it would only take a second for my mood to flip.
"Good evening, Ms. Anderson." My smile dropped when someone spoke behind Richard.
I saw the guy with the too-polished look and frowned the second I spotted Wade behind him too. His gaze settled on me immediately, studying my appearance, which made me feel a little self-conscious.
I looked away and fixed my glasses. That stupid look made me want to claw his eyes out so he wouldn't look at me again - but it would be a waste of his handsome face if I did.
And by the time we were all sitting at the dining table, I felt like I regretted coming with my mom. I should've stayed in my dorm.
My mom and Richard were the ones doing most of the talking. They told us about their wedding, their future plans, and how many kids they wanted - ugh! I just wanted to cover my ears and block it all out.
"What?" I whispered when I saw Wade staring at me with a grin, like he was amused just by my existence.
I gave him a dismissive look, especially when I noticed how comfortably he sat across from me, like he was fine with this wedding. Like it didn't affect him at all. Maybe it really didn't.
He was probably perfectly fine with it. I wasn't.
"So, Layla, I heard your artwork was selected for the competition that would secure your scholarship," Richard said, turning his attention to me.
The words hit differently. For the second time that night, I forced a smile. "It was."
My mom frowned. "Was? What happened?"
My eyes shifted and I stared straight at Wade. "Someone accidentally ruined it."
Wade met my stare. His smooth brow furrowed a little. He didn't look away, like he was challenging me.
"Oh, you poor girl," Richard reacted.
"So that's why you've been upset since Monday? Why didn't you tell me, honey?" She reached over to comfort me, yet my stare never left Wade.
"No need. I was going to take care of the person behind it."
I said it while driving my fork hard into the meat, then focused only on my plate instead. I was so tempted to just walk out without saying goodbye, but I wouldn't stoop that low. Richard quickly changed the subject.
"Speaking of important events, Wade had a game tomorrow."
Tomorrow - yeah, of course. Everything always circled back to him: fans, sponsors, overseas opportunities, the press. I sighed. The golden boy's future looked brighter than ever.
"You girls should come watch. It would be a chance for all of us to get used to each other as a family," Richard laughed, and I almost choked. I wanted to gag at the word "family."
"Layla could skip it; she was busy tomorrow," Wade said in a taunting tone.
"Yeah, I couldn't come. There would be too much bad energy, and I'd rather not be around it," I shot back.
"Bad energy, you say? Talking about someone in particular? Interesting choice of words." He laughed quietly, like he was testing my patience.
"Some things just weren't worth watching anyway."
"What exactly are you two talking about?" Richard asked, looking confused.
"Are you two okay?" Mom sighed. "You should try to get along. You'll be sharing a home soon and even have the same last name. Please be good to each other."
My mom reminded us, but I still kept glaring daggers at Wade. I couldn't imagine living under the same roof as him. I'd rather sleep on the streets than breathe the same air.
Dinner ended an hour later. Thank God.
The moment I stepped outside, I expected to finally relax. But my frown stayed fixed when I realized Wade was still right behind me. Our parents were up ahead, talking about how we'd get back.
"It's getting late. Why don't you two ride together? Your dorms were in the same building, right?" my mom suggested, so I shook my head fast.
"I'd go there by myself, Mom."
"Why? It wasn't safe for you to travel alone this late," Richard said.
"Don't push it, Dad. She obviously didn't want to ride home with me," Wade said, spinning his car keys around his finger. He was watching me, smiling like he was daring me to say something.
"I wasn't getting in a car with him, Mom. I'd rather walk all the way back," I shot back, matching his smirk.
I caught his grin out of the corner of my eye. What was so funny? Did he actually think I had forgotten what he pulled the day before?
I felt my mom grip my arm tight. "Layla, please..."
"See? This was exactly why she shouldn't come with me." Wade folded his arms across his chest, calm and unbothered.
"Fine. Both of you stop this," Richard said.
I didn't say anything else and just looked away. His dad clearly didn't understand where all this hatred came from, so he had no choice but to agree.
"Alright then, just take care on your way." I stopped looking at Wade, gave them another forced smile, and waited until a ride arrived.
And as soon as the car pulled up, I should've gone straight back to my dorm - but my feet carried me toward the school instead. Only a few students were around, not the usual morning crowd.
I found myself walking toward the hockey building. I went inside the locker room. A terrible idea suddenly popped into my head. Even though I knew exactly what I was doing, my heart still pounded with nervousness as I slipped inside quietly.
My eyes searched for something, and I didn't have trouble finding it. I knew exactly where Wade's stall was - it had "Captain" written on it. Of course he got the best spot.
I stared at his equipment for a long time: the gloves, jersey, helmet, stick, and skates. All his gear was laid out neatly, every single piece, like he'd been fully prepared for tomorrow's game all along.
Good.
Maybe now he would finally understand what it felt like to lose something important.
My hands moved before my conscience could stop me, and for the first time since my painting got ruined, I finally felt a strange sense of ease settle in my chest.
Wade Scott wanted a war. Then tomorrow... he was finally going to get one.
