People always say

"why regret something you once wanted?"

but if i had known

what i know now

i never would have wanted it

in the first place —(r.h.)

____________________________________

JAKE 

DECEMBER // WEEK 3

Her hand was so tiny and soft, which was the exact opposite of mine. "So, Hawthorne," I began cooly. "What classes are you taking?" I was desperately trying to find out anything about her—all I knew so far was that she was the coach's daughter. No name. No nothing.

"I'm in AP Calculus, AP U.S. History, AP Comp, Spanish 4, AP Environmental Science, and The Art of Yoga." She finished with a sigh. I watched as the index finger of her left hand traced the rim of her coffee cup.

"Jesus, trying to get into Oxford?" I raised my eyebrows at her, more impressed than that time Derek purposely scored a goal against Walden. He wasn't even facing the net!

"Something like that," she tilted her head to the side, like she was actually considering it. "Anything to get out of this dammed town." Did I detect a hint of aggression in her voice? Yeah, I think I did.

"That was what I wanted too," I agreed with her.

"Was? Wanted?" She asked me and in response, I tried really hard not to clench my hands into fists.

"Yeah, things got... complicated," I said thinking of Jules and my... child... "But I think I'm in your AP Calc class." I changed the subject as I bit into Jules's scone, trying to keep my girlfriend as far out of my mind as possible. Mmmm raspberry.

"Mrs. Caldwell? Right before lunch?" She asked, her voice going up an octave.

"Yeah, that stupid test or quiz or whatever it's called, was so hard yesterday." I shook my head.

"Number 2..." She trailed off before taking a sip of coffee.

"Shoot me," I said and we both laughed away the last bits of tension. I wove my fingers through hers, my thumb rubbing the side of her index finger.

"So, besides being in my Calc class, what other classes do you take?" she asked me.

"I'm in European History, Honors French 4, AP Economics, and Honors Physics."

"Holy crap, you're smart." She whispered under her breath, her eyebrows furrowed together like she could barely believe it. She stared down at the red table trying to come to terms with what she had just heard. "And you're a hockey player." She continued in incredulity, like one of Newton's laws had just been disproved and her whole life was a lie.

"Sorry to burst your bubble there, Darling." I chuckled, calling her by a nickname I had never used on any girl. For some reason though, it sounded so natural to call her that.

"But you're a hockey player." She repeated, like I was supposed to be dumb because of the sport I played.

"With a 3.85 GPA." I shot her a flashy smile, not being able to resist rubbing it in just a little bit. I took another bite of Jules's raspberry scone while I waited for her to process. It was delicious. "So, yoga..." I laughed, bringing her out of her trance.

"I needed an art credit." The girl cracked half a smile. Every Monday instead of practice, our team did yoga, but I wasn't about to tell her that. I doubt she would even believe me.

"And here I was, thinking you were just naturally flexible." I made a not-so-subtle referenced to last night. Her cheeks turned a lovely shade of scarlet, and her mouth hung open—just like mine did that one time A-Mart asked the prettiest girl in the school to prom and she actually said yes.

I took this as an opportunity to really look at her. Her light brown hair was pulled back into a loose, low hanging ponytail, the kind Jules would never wear, because that would be too easy and Jules needs to spend a minimum of forty minutes on her hair each morning. Only God knew why. Her nails had chipped blue polish on them, something Jules would never accept, and her eyes were the color of my favorite hockey stick when I was ten: moss green, the color Jules despised. This girl was everything Jules wasn't: short, quiet, calm, and somehow perfect, which only made me like her so much more. Whoever said confidence was sexy clearly overlooked the beauty of pure indecisiveness.

△

Twenty-three minutes later we were once again in the bathroom at Blackie's, which was fine by me. However, I hated public restrooms. Everything was perpetually wet, there was never any soap, and to top it all off, those brown paper towels might as well be sandpaper. But lately, public restrooms were growing on me—especially the one in Blackie's, which smelled like a Christmas tree tonight. The pine and outdoorsy scent was quickly replaced by something much sweeter as I pressed my lips to hers. I could still tasted the remnants of the french vanilla coffee she was drinking earlier tonight.

I knew this was all wrong. Every fibre inside my body told me so, but the way her body was moulded to mine made it all right. The fact that my hands were tangled in her hair instead of Jules's hair should have been enough for me to tear myself away from this girl—but it wasn't, and I was totally okay with that.

Instead of being plastered up against the wall like last time, she was sitting on the bathroom sink. I was standing between her legs and I'm not sure which position I liked better. There were perks to both positions. I ran my hands up and down her thin thighs, sliding them further up her legs each time.

I moved away from her lips to trail kisses across her collarbone and she arched her back in response, pressing herself to me. I held her hips firmly, because if she moved any more she would have slid right off the counter. Yeah, I just hit a sensitive spot. Point for Jake. Her vanilla scent faded sand was replaced by I tinge of alcohol—the strong kind. Her delicate fingers toyed with the hair at the nape of my neck making me forget everything. They drummed softly across my shoulders before she slid her hands around to my cheeks, pulling my face back to hers as she smiled back at me.

I lifted her off the smooth countertop and held her against the bathroom door, pressing her back against it with my body. She was considerably shorter than I was, which was no new observation of mine, but this put her at the perfect height to slide her hands under my shirt. It was as if all my senses were heightened, because at that moment I could feel all ten of her fingertips running across my stomach, and God, it felt amazing. Just to have her hands on my bare skin was almost enough to make me rip her clothes off right then and there. But I'm Jake Roswell, and I have some level of restraint. I was just about to bite down on her lower lip and return the favor when there was a loud banging on the door.

"Girl! It's 4:30, let's go! I know you still have homework to finish and a cold shower to take!" The employee called out.

We broke apart and I couldn't help but stare. "So, cold showers..." I began with a smirk. Her response was nothing short of award-worthy.

"Yeah, I hear you take a lot of them," she said with a smile while reaching behind her to unlock the door. I grabbed some more scones for Jules while she picked up the tray of coffee for whoever. We walked outside, greeted by a frigid wind that almost made me pull her back to the bathroom.

"So, do I get the pleasure of learning your name now?" I asked as we were standing in the parking lot.

"It's Katie," she told me quietly before running on her heel and walking off. She didn't even give me a chance to respond or even offer her a ride home.

"Katie," I repeated softly to myself. "Katie Hawthorne."

△

DECEMBER // WEEK 4

The next morning at school, I left Jules with her annoying friends and went through the rest of the day in a haze. I was pretty sure that Katie was the reason.

"Listen, just come over tomorrow night and we'll figure this out," Ava told me as we walked out of Calc.

"Calum's not coming over tomorrow night?" I teased her.

"He still is... after you leave," she smirked before flipping her hair over her shoulder. I let out a low growl.

"Simmer." She laid a hand on my arm.

"Yo, Jake." I heard Derek call out my name

"Don't be late. It'd be a shame to see the Captain doing sprints." Her tone was full of sarcasm as she patted my chest before hurrying down the hall.

"What happened last night at the party with Jules?" Derek caught up to me. When I didn't reply, he continued. "What Jules said about her being pregnant..." he trailed off. "Is that true, man?" Derek looked over at me. He was my best friend. Best friends don't keep secrets. I stopped walking.

"You can't tell anyone." I said to him in a hushed tone as we leaned against a set of random lockers trying to look casual.

I clutched my books in one hand like my life depended on it and looked around nervously. I'm Jake Roswell and Jake Roswell doesn't get nervous, except before big games. If this "rumor" got out, it would spread faster than that time Morgan Brayson gave half the football team and a third of the baseball team chlamydia.

"Shit," was Derek replied for a few minutes. "Who else knows?" he shot a freshman girl a quick smile, acting normal.

"Ava and your mom," I ran my hand through my hair and a shiver shot down my spine at the thought of Katie doing that to me last night. "We went to see her the other day so we could find out what was going on inside of Jules and stuff." I explained the visit to the clinic.

"She wouldn't have been able to tell me anyways cause of doctor/patient confidentiality stuff." Derek brushed that off, before his eyes grew wide. "Jules didn't tell anyone?" His eyes went wide.

"I told her she could tell Haley but I don't know if she actually did or not." I shook my head. "I found out two days ago, and this is probably the longest she's ever kept a secret," I defended Jules.

"Longer than the time she kept that secret about what happened at that Christmas party last year?" Derek laughed slightly.

"Way longer," I rolled my eyes. "She kept that secret for all of ten minutes."

There were loud shouts coming from Mr. Douglas' room, presumably two males. One of them sounded like Coach Hawthorne. Derek and I slowed our walking till we could pass for nursing home residents and tried to listen inconspicuously.

"Don't you do that to my boys, Jim!" A voice that could only be Coach roared in defiance to whatever he had just been told. "Don't you give them a bad grade just because they play for me! Just because you taught at Northshire—" I could imagine Coach pointing his finger at Mr. Douglas who was kind of a portly man and balding quickly.

Derek and I heard the wicked laugh of Mr. Douglas. "You think that's why I'm all but failing your players, Michael? You don't think it's because you married my ex-wife?" Derek and I stared at each other in disbelief.

"Coach?" I asked.

"No..." Derek trailed off as they began speaking again.

"Isn't her happiness the important thing?" Coach asked. Wow... he actually sounded like a decent man.

"I don't know. Is she happy?" Mr. Douglas fired back in a sadistic tone.

"We are not finished with this conversation." Coach screamed as stormed out into the hallway.

"Coach," Derek and I greeted him uncomfortably.

"Listen, boys, you let me know what you get on that history report, okay?" He clapped our shoulders before hurrying down the hallway.

"Dude, you know it, and I know it: Jules is the type of person will kiss and definitely tell," Derek continued our conversation like we hadn't just heard Coach Hawthorne and Mr. Douglas arguing. He and I started walking down the hall again.

Derek was right. "I'll talk to her later." I ended the conversation as Derek and I walked into the locker room.

After getting most of his gear on, Derek stood up on one of the benches in the locker room, teetering slightly and raised his right hand. "Hi, my name is Derek, and I am still hungover from last night's party," he announced as the whole team responded "Hi, Derek," in a monotone voice. Derek pointed his finger at our goalie and gave him a knowing smile. "Thank you, A-Mart."

"Speaking of parties, Ava Castleton is having one next week," A-Mart replied.

Calum shouted "Score!" the same time I shouted "Fuck!" If there was a party to be had, Julianne Vanderbilt would most definitely be attending. I prayed to the God of Alcohol that she wouldn't drink tonight.

"Practice time, boys. Wouldn't wanna be doing sprints." Calum riled everyone up before he and a few Northie kids marched out of the locker room. Calum stopped at the door, holding everyone up. "Hey Jake, I wanted to wait until after practice to tell you this, but me and you are gonna be captains." He gave me a wicked smile.

"Not a chance in hell you get elected by the team." I told him, knowing that there were two more Creek Hill players than Northshire players.

"You might be surprised by what your team defines as a 'captain.'" Calum raised his eyebrows at me. "See you at practice, Captain," he told me before disappearing. I was at the end of my rope with Calum and I was about ready to deck him, knock his teeth out, and leave him for dead.

△

"Dammit, Jake!" My dad yelled at me. "You gotta get further up on that last play so you can be at the corner—be his option—to receive the puck from Brooks!" My dad skated by me. In the three weeks that I had been playing with this new team, it seemed like Calum Brooks could do nothing wrong and I couldn't do a single thing right. "Nice shot, kid." My dad praised Calum and that made me furious.

"Run the play again!" Coach Hawthorne demanded before blowing his whistle.

This time, I received the pass from Calum on the fly and brought it behind the net. I saw Derek open up top and sent the puck over to him. I was cutting across the middle to get to my next position when a Northie player slammed into me. We were doing defense at 50% for this play so we could get the hang of it. From how I felt after that hit, that was definitely not 50%. I stood up, glared at the Northie player, and made my way over to Calum.

I shoved him up against the boards, hard. "Are you shitting me, Brooks!" I called him out.

"What?" he acted all innocent.

"You would really have one of your Northie players screw up a drill because you wanna be captain? Try and knock me down a few pegs? Are you out of your mind?" I screamed at him.

Calum pushed me off of him. "You're so obsessed with being captain that you can't accept that you weren't looking where you were skating and you ran into one of my players!" He accused me, and that was all it took for me to send a left hook across his face.

His helmet came off in the process as he tackled me to the ground. He got a few good punches in before I rolled him over and dug my knee into his arm to keep him pinned. The fight was short-lived. I felt a strong hand grab my jersey—a hand that could only belong to Coach Hawthorne—and yank me off of Calum. It probably for his own good.

"Since you two are determined to kill each other, I'm gonna make both of y'all captain. Maybe that way, this team won't be so divided!" Coach Hawthorne said to Calum and I. "If you two are finished, I had a practice to run!" He screamed into my face, before skating by us and blowing his whistle a few times to get everyone's attention. I hated Calum Brooks with a passion, and now he and I were both captains. This was not how I imagined this season.

△

I stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around my waist. I walked out of the bathroom to find Jules lying on my bed reading. "Hi, Princess," I greeted her, kissing her cheek. "What book is that?"

"Hamlet," she replied without looking up at me. I stepped into a pair of boxers before rummaging through my drawers for some khaki pants.

"Hey, Jules," I began tentatively because I knew how much she hated being interrupted.

"Gimme a sec. I have two more pages," she answered calmly. Wow, that was a first. A few minutes later, Jules bookmarked her page, tucked her black pen inside the book and looked up at me. "Alright, what's up?" I took a seat on my bed beside her.

"Have you told anyone?" I rushed my words out as I finished buttoning up my light blue polo shirt

"Just Haley. You told me I could tell her." She put her head on my lap.

"Anyone else?" I prodded while I rolled up the sleeves. I didn't want to seem too anxious about this topic.

Jules shook her head. "Just Haley." I put my hand on her head, playing with her hair.

"You know she's having a party tonight." I stated.

"Yeah I know, I'm going." Jules laughed. I gave her a stern look. "I won't drink any alcohol!" she said defensively. "I'll drink, like, cranberry juice or something. That's what they do in the movies, right?" Her hand rested on my thigh.

I chuckled. "Yeah, I think so. If I find out you've had even a sip of alcohol, we are leaving." I told her and the tone in my voice meant that there would be no discussion about what I had just said. I rarely used that voice with Jules. She only nodded.

"You think I hurt it?" She asked me as she put her hand to her stomach, referring to the copious amounts of alcohol she drank last night.

"There's a chance you did," I nodded solemnly trying to keep Jules calm. I heard stress was bad for the baby. "Which is why you can't drink or smoke." I explained to her as I watched her hair slipping through my fingers... just like my life.

"I know, I screwed up last week." Jules said. Holy hell, was that her agreeing with me? Jules never agreed with me. Ever.

"Don't do it again," I told her, lying back on my bed. Jules put her head on my chest, and for once it was nice. "Please,"

"Okay," she answered in a submissive voice. "When are we gonna tell our parents?" she asked.

"I don't know. I really don't want to though," I sighed thinking of the horror show it would turn into. "Your dad is gonna kill me when he finds out." I cringed slightly.

"Yeah he probably will," she confirmed. "Should we tell mine or yours first?"

"Mine," I answered without hesitation. Maybe if my dad knew why Jules's dad was going to kill me, he might not kick me out. "Sleep over tonight and we'll tell them tomorrow morning." I decided. Jules pushed herself up with her arms and kissed my cheek before getting off of my bed.

"I'm gonna go get ready. Pick me up at 8:30," she demanded before walking out. I heard her say goodbye to my parents in a cheery voice and then the front door closed. I stared at my ceiling thinking of how completely screwed I was. Then, I shut my eyes and thought of Katie. I could still hear her telling me her name. The way it rolled off her tongue, like it was a forbidden word or a secret she wasn't supposed to tell.

Katie.