With Nick driving the car, I finally understood why people liked road-tripping. We stopped to get some slushies, and now I was looking over at his side-profile realizing just how lucky I felt to be with him.
Not only was I insanely attracted to even the smallest things about him– like how his adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he drank, or how he tapped the wheel along to the rhythm of the music like he was a drummer, or his quick smile every time Duke cracked a joke– but he was also caring. I still couldn’t believe he prioritized helping us out over hockey. That was shocking to me because, as much as I liked the game of hockey, I usually found hockey players to be kind of arrogant. They were guys who could easily be self-centered considering how a lot of them grewup…
Hockey parents had to make sure their kid was always well-fed with enough protein and had their skates sharpened to the right degree, and most of their weekends were taken up by hockey tournaments. I mean, that’s a lot of sacrifice and dedication for one kid… I think Duke was sometimes jealous that our family wasn’t your typical hockey family and that our parents didn’t drop everything to be at his games… but in a lot of ways, Duke had it easier. Duke realized that the world was bigger than hockey. If he didn’t get a goal or make a team, it wasn’t the end of the world in our house like it was for some of his friends. He didn’t have the same pressure on his little shoulders as some of his teammates.
But Duke was still young, I wasn’t sure if he noticed the ways he was lucky yet. I realized it with figure skating. I mean, some of those mothers were fierce.It’s not that they knew every step of their daughter’s program - that’s a given- they were proud. But, it was weird when they also knew every step in their daughter’s competitor’s programs… like why did Farrah’s mom know my program’s difficulty?
But Nick wasn’t egocentric, or else he wouldn’t have saved me from a surely white-knuckled, anxiety-fueled, three-hour drive today.Instead, we had fun. Duke fell asleep in the backseat, while we went back and forth from telling stories, to introducing new music to each other through our personally crafted burned cd’s. I had a few in my car, but Nick brought a whole book of CD’s from Griff’s truck with him.
When Beyonce’s “If I Were a Boy” came on, I turned it up.
“This song is so true,” I said, side-eyeing him and wondering if he’d understand. “I wish I were a boy sometimes.”
“Why’s that?” he asked, taking his eyes off the road to glance at me.
“Because a lot of times it feels like the world only cares about boys,” I said simply.
Nick cocked his head to the side thinking about this and paused the song. “Well, a lot of times, boys only care about girls,” he pointed out. “So actually…” he grinned as he eyed me.
I laughed at this. “Yeah, but what I mean is– think about hockey versus figure skating for example. So many people pack into hockey stadiums all the time and they’re true fans who really care, and guys can actually make a living playing it. And then after playing, they can make a living writing about it orcommentating.”
He nodded atthis.
“But with figure skating, the world only cares every four years for the Olympics, and they only remember the girl’s name if she wins the gold. You know how hard that is? And if you’re not thatonegirl then you fade into oblivion and all that hard work is for nothing. You can’t even really go to college for figure skating. Sure, there’s synchro skating, but that’s not my thing. There’s Disney on Ice, but I have no interest in wearing a character costume.”
His eyebrows pinched together. “I never thought about it that way. But you’re comparing two different sports. There’s girls’ hockey too,” he pointed out.
I shrugged. “Yeah, well, how many famous guy athletes do you know right off the top of your head? Now think of how many girl ones youknow…”
He cringed.
“Exactly,” I said, feeling annoyed by it like always. “The world cares way more about guys’ sports and what guys have to say. It’s not fair.”
“Well, I hope that changes. Maybe you could change the whole game!” he said with a smile.
I shook my head at this and rolled my eyes.
“Don’t shake your head, missy! It’s true. You’re gonna do big things,” he winked at me. “I can feel it.”
I felt my face heat up over his confidence in me. It felt nice for someone to believe I could do something that actually mattered one day.
He turned Beyonce back up and listened for a minute, then hit the skip button a couple times until he heard the song he was looking for.
“I like this one much better,” he said as Beyonce’s “Single Ladies” blasted throughout the car.
I watched Nick dance like a goofball trying to imitate Beyonce’s signature dance moves, making me crack uplaughing.
Around 6pm, we stopped for a bathroom break and to grab some dinner at a fast-food joint. While scanning the options, I cringed realizing that there wasn’t anything healthy, and I resigned myself to the fact that I’d be skipping dinner tonight.
I tried to ignore my growling stomach. It wasn’t a big deal. It was worth it. I had to keep my upcoming competition at the front of my mind and how embarrassed I would be if you could see my tight’s line on my stomach through my dress if I didn’t watch it. Victoria reminded me of that last week about a bazillion times and I was honestly sick of it. I wanted to just get this competition over with already.
After ordering for himself and Duke, Nick motioned me forward, but I just shook my head and walked toward the door to wait for them.
I felt his eyes trailing me for an extra second before turning back to the cashier.
When the boys brought their bags and drinks over to the door, Nick looked at me with serious eyes.
“You can’t skip dinner, Sav,” he whispered in a low voice as we exited the food joint.
