“Shut up,” I say and turn my attention back to the ice. Tate is in a corner of the rink fighting for the puck with one of the Boston University players—and he wins. The crowd roars and so do I. Caroline laughs. “You may want to tone it down a bit when Daisy gets back or you won’t have to tell her you’re shagging him, she’ll figure it out on her own.”
My head snaps toward her so quickly I almost give myself whiplash. She’s just smiling serenely, like some wise old prophet who knew all along. “I’m not just shagging him, I’m dating him. And I’m falling in love with him. Fast. Faster than his slapshot.”
Her response is to squeal and clap her hands and then wrap me in a bear hug. I laugh. “I have a feeling Daisy’s reaction won’t be this enjoyable.”
“Not at first, but you know her, she’ll come around,” Caroline replies and tucks her blonde hair back behind her ear. “She’ll see you’re happy and he’s a good guy and she’ll chill out. But, the rest of your family…that’s a harder sell.”
“I know,” I reply and sigh. “But let’s just start with Daisy.”
Five minutes and one goal—thankfully by us—later and Daisy is back with four hot dogs and a giant drink. She hands out the hot dogs, getting all the toppings of preference right for each of us. I look at Caroline, my eyes screaming “well I can’t tell her now, we’re eating!” So the entire first period goes by without me saying anything about the fact that I’m dating Tate.
During intermission, Daisy is gone again. She comes back smiling—and it’s not just any smile. It’s her I’m-up-to-something smile. She first debuted it when she was five and she gave Tess, our old lab, a manicure using our mom’s reddest shade of nail polish. The manicure was administered in our parents’ bedroom, and most of that nail polish ended up on their white throw rug.
“What have you done?” I ask mimicking my mother from back in the day.
Daisy’s smile deepens. “You’ll see soon enough.”
“Daisy, you’re making me nervous and nauseous,” I say, the hot dog I ate sitting like a brick in my belly.
Daisy ignores that and cheers with the rest of the arena when we score. I see Tate skating toward his bench, arms in the air. “Did Tate score that?”
The announcer answers me over the speaker. “First goal of the season for defensemen Tate Adler.”
I start to clap—loudly. Daisy’s eyes grow wide and Caroline laughs. I ignore them both and keep clapping, adding a wolf whistle for good measure. Now Daisy’s mouth is hanging open. “What on God’s green earth are you doing?”
“Cheering for our hockey team,” I reply coolly.
“You’re a little aggressive about it considering it’s the devil’s spawn that scored,” Daisy says bitingly and I take a deep breath, hold it and turn to face her.
“Maybe it’s time we stop the hate,” I say firmly.
“Nope. He’s earned it,” Daisy replies just as firmly.
“He really hasn’t earnedmyhate,” I say. “In fact, he’s earned my respect and my…like. He’s earned my like.”
“He’s earned your like?” Daisy repeats and shakes her head, her nose scrunching up in revelation. “What does that even mean? Youlikehim?”
“I do. A lot.”
“So he’s your friend? Are you insane? You think he’s your friend?” Her voice is climbing in octaves with every sentence and it’s freaking me out.
“I think he’s my boyfriend,” I clarify.
“You think what?” Daisy gasps. She puts a hand to my forehead. “Are you sick? Did you hit your head? Are you out of your freaking mind?”
“Actually, I know he’s my boyfriend,” I reply. “I mean at first, it was just sex. Angry sex. Hate sex, even…although I don’t know if we ever really hated each other. But if we did, we don’t now. We really like each other and we want to be together.”
“Be together? Like, as in, a relationship?” Daisy is in shock, which I expected. But there’s something more…there’s panic. I don’t understand why, but she is panicking. “But what about the gift basket opportunity he stole from us?”
“Jace did that, not Tate,” I say. “Jace never told him about it.”
“What? No. No, Jace said that—”
“Jace lied,” I say. “Apparently he hates us as much as, well, every other one of the Adlers. But Tate gave him hell for that gift basket thing and talked to him and Jace is okay with us giving this a shot.”
“Magnolia, this can’t be happening,” Daisy says, which is another sign she’s panicking. She never, ever calls me by my full name. She grabs my hands and then lets them go, and runs her hands into her hair completely destroying her ponytail.
Her panic is making me panic, so I start to babble. “I really, really hope that you’ll be okay with this after you get used to it. Because honestly, Daisy, if you just give Tate a chance, you’ll like him. And you’ll like him for me.”
