“Don’t look over there,” he whispered, pulling my eyes to his. “I wanna see your pretty smile. You look beautiful this morning.”
I felt my face burn a little at his compliment, but he was looking at me so intently over his coffee cup that I believed him…
He had a way of making me feel confident in myself… and I’d never felt that way before. I wanted to embrace it. I secretly hoped it’d last forever.
____
On the way to the rink for Duke’s first game, Nick disregarded the arena map directions I was reading, and instead, made a pit stop at a gas station.
When I looked at him in question, he just muttered, “Need to pick up some pregame stuff,” and he quickly jumped out of the jeep and jogged into the little convenient shop.
A couple minutes later, he came out holding up Snickers bars and cans of Mountain Dew with a big smile plastered on his face.
“That’s a lot of sugar,” I warned as he climbed back into the driver’s seat.
“You betcha.” He grinned as he threw one of the candy bars and pops in the backseat forDuke.
Duke leaned forward between the two front seats and raised a single eyebrow at Nick. “But… I just had breakfast,” hesaid.
Nick shrugged. “This is my good luck snack before games. It’s tradition. And it gets ya all amped up. I can’t go to a game without these,” he said simply.
I looked at him skeptically as he popped the top of his can. “Butyou’renot playing, ya weirdo, he is.” I hitched a thumb at Duke.
Nick cocked his head to the side and gave me a mock hurt face. “Hush, Smol. You can’t break traditions. I can’t walk in the rink without having these. You want young Duke here tosuffer?”
Duke turned on me then. “Yeah, Sister. You want me to suffer?” he asked with wide eyes, completely aghast at the possibility. He reached for his own can, popped the top, and held it up to cheers Nick. “Drink up, Pretty boy!”
“I’ll take it! I am pretty!” Nick laughed while taking another swig of his drink.
Before moving again, I ushered Duke to put his seatbelt back on, while Nick reached for the CD book. He flipped through it to locate a personally burned CD labeled “pregame music” in blue sharpie. Seconds later, the song “Freaks” blasted through thecar.
I held my ears and looked at Nick like he was crazy.
“What?” he asked innocently. “The little dude’s gotta get pumped up! Gotta be ready to attack the puck. Attack the corners, right bud?!” he yelled back atDuke.
“Right! Let’s fuckin go!” Duke called out.
That made me gasp. “What did you just say?!” I turned to yell atDuke.
He at least had the decency to look a little squeamish, but he was still smiling and bumping back and forth to the music.
“Ohmygoodness,” I huffed out and rolled my eyes… but the corners of my lips were fighting to curve up. I had to admit that I secretly loved the way Nick treated Duke like a little brother… and I couldn’t help but laugh at the way they were both fist-pumping to the music.
11. Griff
There was definitely a change when the three of them returned home from the tourney inMinneapolis.
As far as we all knew, their relationship wassealed.
I’d notice them holding hands every chance they got, and Nick would run off mid-practice, saying he needed “more water” or a “bathroom break.” Coach started to get suspicious of this because Nick conveniently always left when the Olympic sheet of ice, which the figure skaters practiced on, was being zammed.
Coach nodded at me to follow him one day and I saw him sneaking toward the locker room hallway. He quickened his pace to grab Sav’s arm before she entered locker room #5. He gently pushed her against the cinderblock wall, holding her tiny waist with his hockey-gloved hand, and kissed her fiercely before slamming his helmet back down and running back to the ice, leaving her happily giggling in his wake… I just told Coach that Nick was having stomach issues and the case against him was dropped completely.
It seemed no matter what I felt about it, they were fated to be together, and I had to bow to that.
I tried to shake it off and be happy for them. He was my best friend after all, and Sav and Duke were slowly becoming like family to me.
There wasn’t a Friday night that went by where we weren’t at the Callahan’s house for a solid, home-cooked meal prepared by Sav (which never had cat hair in it), and then some outdoorskating.
