Brett
I was beginning to understand that realizing you’d been an i***t was the easy part.
Figuring out what to do about it was considerably harder.
By Wednesday afternoon, I had apologized to Cassie twice, stopped questioning her about Derek, started doing my own damn schoolwork, and made an actual effort to listen when she talked instead of waiting until the conversation circled back to something involving me. None of it felt like enough.
Probably because it wasn’t.
“You look constipated.”
I looked across the locker room at Ollie.
“Do you ever say hello like a normal person?”
“Sometimes. Not today.”
He dropped onto the bench beside me and started unlacing his skates. Practice had been brutal, and most of the guys had already headed for the showers. Marco was arguing with someone
