* * * *
My feet dragged on the pavement as I approached the bus loading area to the south of the rink. My mascara was the best it’d ever been, and my jeans and orangefittedsweatshirt looked good, yet nerves still fluttered around my gut.
The heat of the summer air lingered just a bit, but the wind was picking up as I neared the parking lot filled with lots of commotion. The equipment manager stood with a clipboard, eyeing all the gear, and players were everywhere, like little ants.
Some laughed. Some wore headphones. Others came out of the rink carrying their bags. One guy looked up as I neared and lifted his chin in a quick greeting before moving past me. I was used to that from hockey players. Polite indifference.
I pulled on the straps of my backpack tighter and tried to calm my heart rate. It wasn’t being around athletes that had me nervous. My babysitters had been guys in hockey gear who grunted a lot. It was the fact I was doing this. Going to a game with the teamandmy dad. After spending most of my life avoiding the sport that drove my parents to divorce, now I was knee deep in it.I can do this. I can be bold.
I took a deep breath of the chilling fall air and jumped when a massive body appeared next to me.
“What up, Klutzy?” Reiner said, flashing me a smile that had no business making my toes curl into my shoes. What I wouldn’t give to have his good looks and confidence. I’d rule the damn world.
“Reiner,” I said, a little too breathy. It wasn’t from his proximity or the fact he stared at me longer than a few minutes...or so I told myself. “You scared the shit out of me.”
“Pay better attention then. You’re about to get on a bus filled with hockey players. You gotta be prepared for anything,” he said, his voice losing a bit of the playful edge. “So, stat lady, did you bring graph paper and bar charts for me?”
I rolled my eyes so hard I was surprised I didn’t lose eyesight. “Oh my god, obviously. I carry them in my bag, always.”
“Sarcasm suits you, Fletcher.” Michael’s eyes warmed for one brief second, and in that small moment of time, I wondered what it’d be like to always be on the receiving end of that look.
He was so large. Charismatic. Handsome. He didn’t think twice about letting me be his fake girlfriend at the bar and had the ability to talk to anyone with an ease I never could. His dark blue eyes matched the Central hockey polo he wore, and his easy grins caused my stomach to flutter. Just looking at him made my breath lodge in my throat.
My mouth might’ve dropped open, but I wasn’t sure because everything felt too hot. My skin. My neck. My body. I tore my gaze away from him and focused on the asphalt. “Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit.”
“But the highest form of intelligence,” Michael said, wiggling his dark brows. “I know that Oscar Wilde quote too. I should get a sticker.”
I snorted. I couldn’t help it. He laughed too, and the weird hold he had over me broke—which was good. I wasn’t Cami and never would be. I liked Steve Kornaki type of guys, not athletes. I’d heard all the stories over the years. The debauchery. The stream of hook-ups. The heartbreaks. Hell, before Cami and I grew apart, I’d hear her cry through our thin wall at home.
I knew better than to entertain the idea of crushing on a hockey bro. Throw in the fact he was working for my dad? It was a lose-lose-lose situation, and those were certainly odds I didn’t want.
“Reiner, come with me,” my dad said, hiscoachingvoice on full blast. It was the same Dad voice he had at home but more authoritative. Like he added an extra syllable to each word to make people listen. Reiner stood straighter next to me and took a step toward him.
I wanted so badly to ask if I was just chopped liver but bit my tongue. “And me?”
“Oh, Naomi, hey. You should get on the bus. Sit in the front.” He pointed to the one nearest us and put a hand on Reiner’s shoulder. “I mean it. We’ll be there in a second.”
My chest tightened, and my skin felt too small for my entire body. I was just dismissed. Like that. No,so glad you’re here,orare you nervous,ordo you have any questions?
He had to realize this was so outside of my comfort zone. That my pulse worked too hard for the situation. But Dad was always about hockey. My mom knew it and left because of it. For one second, I thought about not doing this. Exiting the parking lot and going back to my apartment where things were easy. Comfortable. No smell of athletes or their drama.
Something rooted me to the spot though. Maybe it was grit or a sliver of competitiveness that I’d hidden for all these years. My professor advised me to work on an assignment that pushed my boundaries. To get creative with data. To my little nerd heart, that could mean a lot of things. It didn’t require that I had to push my personal boundaries, but here I was. On the brink of walking away.
Time stilled at this seemingly huge moment that only I went through. No one gave a shit that I stood there, heart hammering and my palms sweating.
I’d follow through with it.
I’d never forgive myself if I walked away from this chance atmaybeproving to my dad I wasn’t so different from him. Plus, the small voice in the back of my head spoke up.Be more like your sister.
I hated the comparison, but it was true. She’d squeal at this opportunity to be around all the guys and our dad. But it was me, not her, and I’d decided I was staying. I was doing this thing.
Surviving my exhausting mental crisis, I got onto the bus like my dad said and waited. The ants—players—scrambled all over as the bus was loaded with all their gear for the evening game. It was a two-hour bus trip to the east, some Indiana team, and I’d brought enough snacks for the night.
Chips, carbonated water, and peanut butter were all I needed.
The bus smelled like socks that had been sitting out in the sun too long and a hint of mint. The lone air freshener hung near the dashboard, and I laughed. At least that worked.
Guys started boarding the bus, each guy glancing at me. Their reactions were the same. Brief recognition, like they knew me from class or something, then nothing. A part of me wondered if they thought I was Cami for a second but realized I wasn’t and walked away. I wasn’t sure why their reaction bothered me, but it did, so I focused on my phone. Being insecure about my appearance when there was a literal human who looked exactly like me was a weird thing to grapple with. My friends could boost me up and tell me over and over that I was crazy to think so low of myself, but it was hard to move past a decade of always being the less cute twin.
