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"Knock knock."

I rolled my eyes and took a sip of my hot chocolate, leaning my elbows on the small outdoor table of the cafe in downtown Windsor. My best friend, Belle, grinned at me eagerly.

"Who's there?" I decided to play along.

"Tank."

"Tank who?"

"You're welcome!" Belle burst into a fit of giggles, and I couldn't help but grin at how ridiculous she looked, laughing at her own joke.

"That was hilarious, Belle. Hilarious."

Belle rolled her eyes, trying to be serious, but still letting out a few giggles. "You loved it."

"I love all your jokes." I grinned and played with the rim of my hot chocolate cup. I looked around at the small cafe before looking out onto the street of downtown Windsor. I loved being home. I was starting my second year of University in Thunder Bay after the summer was over, and I enjoyed being able to relax in the town I grew up. Belle had been my best friend since Grade 12, when she moved to Windsor. She went to University in Toronto, and so we didn't see each other except when we came home for Christmas and summer. We always got back right where we left off. I could honestly say Belle was probably the best friend I had ever had.

My eyes landed back on Belle and I noticed she was staring at something behind my shoulder. She squinted her eyes and leaned forward, as if that would help her see whatever was there better. She motioned for me to look and I turned around in my chair. I immediately saw the crowd outside of the local movie store, and glanced at Belle with a frown. She shrugged and I turned back around. The crowd grew and I strained my neck to try and see who was in the middle of it.

"Let's go see," Belle suggested. I nodded and we headed down the street, attempting to be nonchalant. As we neared the crowd, my eyes landed on a head of short dirty blonde hair. That was all I could see until the guy looked up to talk to someone in front of him, and I felt my heart skip a beat.

And not the good kind of irregular heartbeat, either.

Standing there, in the middle of the street, surrounded by a crowd of teenage girls and young boys, was one of the reasons I had hated my last two years of high school. I couldn't believe my eyes.

Why did he have to be on this street, at this time, today?

I felt my lips form into a tight line as the memories rushed back into my mind.

I remembered the cold words, the stares, the laughter, the embarassment in the school hallways and classrooms. I remembered the first time I met him and he knocked me into a locker, telling me to watch where I was going and calling me an idiot. I remembered him pretending to be nice to me, then turning around and stabbing me in the back, usually in public. I remembered when he invited me to a party at his house, and I went, trying to fit in. I remembered him kissing me roughly and I remember leaving, crying. I remembered him telling me in front of everyone that I had probably dreamed the kiss, that I wanted to kiss him so badly that I was making it up. I remembered dreading every day of school until finally Belle showed up in Grade 12. I remembered him still trying to get to me, but with Belle by my side, I was less of a target. I remembered everything I had been trying so hard to forget. It's kind of hard to ignore the painful memories when the reason for the pain is standing in front of you. I remembered, and I hated him for it.

***
"So, let me get this straight," Belle said, tapping her chin and spinning around to face me in my computer chair. We had managed to escape without Taylor seeing me, to which I was extremely grateful. "Taylor Hall, the guy who tortured you in your last two years of high school plays in the IHL?"

I sighed, running my hands through my hair and pulling my pillow up to my chest, hugging it. "It's the NHL, Bells. But yes."

"Whatever, he plays hockey. And he's good at it?" she clarified.

I nodded, almost mad at myself for admitting that fact. "How could you not know he went to play professional hockey, Belle? It was all over the news."

Belle shrugged. "The only person I kept in contact with after high school is you, kiddo. And I really could care less about those stupid jocks from school who thought they were better than everyone."

"Technically, he is better than everyone," I pointed out. "He was picked first in the draft."

Belle raised an eyebrow at me and shook her head. "You're not helping yourself out here, Ronnie."

I groaned. "I know!" I cried. "But it's the facts." I slammed my fist down on the bed, feeling my anger building up. "He was vain, cruel, and conceited in high school, imagine what he's like now! I don't know how anyone can stand to be near him. Why does he have to be so good at hockey? Couldn't God have smited him or something? Isn't there supposed to be punishment for thinking you're better than everyone? This is so unfair. He doesn't deserve what he's getting." I let out a whoosh of air and closed my eyes, not wanting to see Belle's sympathetic eyes anymore.

There were so many profanities and cruel things I wanted to spit out about Taylor Hall right now. I took a few deep breaths and opened my eyes, looking down at my blanket. I felt Belle looking at me and glanced up at her questioningly. She pulled her knees up onto the chair and wrapped her arms around them, pulling them into her chest. She rested her head on her knees, still watching me. I gave her a look and she finally spoke.

"You really hate him."

I fell back against my bed and rubbed my temples. "I don't..." I let out a groan. "You know I don't hate anyone."

"Well, I used to think you didn't, but I've never seen you dislike someone so much. I think it might count as hate," she declared.

"I know you only moved here for Grade 12, but you saw what he did to me even then."

Belle nodded. "I know, Ronnie, and I'm not saying it's right. You have every right to hate him."

I thought about what she had said and decided not to comment. I was glad when she dropped the subject, not pushing it further.

"So what are you going to do?"

"Avoid him for however long he's here."

Belle scoffed. "You can't just hide out in your own hometown, Ronnie. You're not the same girl you were in high school, remember? You've learned to stick up for yourself."

I sat up and let out a heavy sigh. "Hiding out and doing everything I can not to be anywhere near him is better than what could happen if we come face to face."

***
Baby, baby, baby oh... Like, baby, baby, baby oh...

I hummed along to Justin Bieber playing through my family's supermarket's speakers as I stacked the shelves in the soup can aisle. I shook my head as I thought about the song in my mind. The kid could sing, but his lyrics didn't make much sense. I shrugged the thought. Oh well, his songs were catchy.

I hadn't stacked shelves since I left for University, but it was kind of refreshing. The air conditioning in the store was a nice break from the Ontario summer heat blazing outside. Belle and I always helped out my parents during the summer. Their supermarket was tucked away on a small corner of downtown Windsor. Windsor wasn't a small town at all, but downtown was one place in the city that looked tiny and quaint. It had flowers hung from the streetlamps and all of the buildings were squished together, leaving the vicinity remeniscent of what Windsor used to look like 50 or so years prior, although some of the buildings had been updated and looked more industrial.

Belle was away on a trip with her parents today, but I didn't mind being alone all that much. As long as I knew the song on the radio, I wouldn't think too much. Thinking was always bad.

It was bad enough that I had seen Taylor yesterday, but there had been fans around him. Fans. People who adored him. Fans. I rolled my eyes and stood on my tiptoes to place a can on the top shelf. Why couldn't he just stay wherever he was during the year? Why did he have to come home? He was probably here to visit some other stupid hockey jock from back in the day. I sighed, trying to calm myself down. Those days were over. I didn't need to think about them anymore.

It was kind of hard not to be reminded of him, though, with the constant chatter about the 'superstar' wherever you went in Windsor. It made me sick.

I took another deep breath and grabbed another can as the song switched to Lady Gaga.

Whoa-oh-oh-oh-whoa, oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-whoa-oh, caught in a bad romance...

"Excuse me, I was wondering if you could help me find this soup for my mom?"

I turned to face the person with a smile. My smile instantly faded as I stared up into the blue eyes of Mr. So-Called Superstar.

The smile that was on his lips seemed to fade too as we stared at one another. His eyes were hard to read for a moment with an expression I didn't understand, before he spoke again, his eyes blank now.

"You're Veronica, right?"

I half expected him saying my name to sound like needles in my heart, like I was a disease. That's how it had been before. But I was surprised to find there was no viciousness in his voice or his face as he waited for me to answer.

I gave him a curt nod, turning back to the cans. I willed him to walk away, to find someone else to help him.

"How are you?"

I stood up straight again and faced him, placing my hands on my hips. I gave him as cruel a glare as I could. "If you need soup, I'll get you soup."

He held up his hands in surrender. "I'm just trying to be nice."

I felt my mouth drop open slightly and I stared at him in disbelief. He shifted his feet awkwardly under my gaze and looked at the floor.

"Nice. You're trying to be nice." I took in a shaky, angry breath, and pulled my hands through my hair. I could not believe this conversation was even happening right now. "Do you need something, or can you leave now?" Taylor's eyes widened slightly and he opened his mouth like he was going to talk before he closed it again. I stared at him pointedly. He didn't say anything and I bit my lip, trying not to freak out. "I'm supposed to be nice to customers, but I'm seriously debating slapping you in the face right now. So if you're just going to stand there like a complete idiot, let me be on my merry way so that I don't injure the face of hockey's newest poster boy." He started to speak but I cut him off. "Actually, I'm just going to leave. Anything you say will make me want to hurt you, so I'm going to be the bigger person and go. Not for your sake, for the sake of innocent teenage girls who think you're wonderful. Let them believe the lie while they can, I say." I left the cans in the middle of the aisle and walked to the end of it, the look on his face giving me enough satisfaction to calm me down until I got home. I motioned to my parents that I was heading out, and stepped outside.