“Yeah, you did,” I said, tears now spilling and singeing my cold cheeks. Nick asked why I was crying. “It’s stupid,” I told him. “But I still can’t imagine going to school without you guys.” My voice cracked. “I would’ve liked us to be together.”
A blink later, before I knew it, Nick had folded me into his arms, and I was hugging him and crying into his chest. His crimson toggle coat was warm, and he smelled like Humpty Dumplings, but he also smelled like Nick—so perfect and familiar and vaguely like a campfire—and I never wanted him to let go.
But with curfew creeping up, he had to, sending me a signal with one last squeeze.No, please don’t, I thought.I want this. I love this. Imissthis. Don’t let go.
Of course he couldn’t read my mind, so he didn’t get the message, but before he pulled away he murmured in my ear, “I would’ve liked us to be together too.”
CHAPTER 24
CHARLIE
Christmas break dragged by, all threeweeks of it. “The more you pay, the less you go,” Dad liked to joke, but I couldn’t cross the days off our family calendar fast enough. It was the usual timeline of events: cutting down our Christmas tree followed by the Hardcastles’ black-tie Christmas Eve party, a chill Christmas dinner at Granddad and Nana’s, and lying around in our pajamas from December 26 to December 30 playing board games. New Year’s was spent skiing up at Sugarbush with Sage and her dad, and thenfinallyit was time to head back to Bexley.
But soon I had to leave again.
“I don’t want to go,” I said as I held Luke close. It was a little before 8:00 a.m., the first Saturday classes of the New Year. He had a free period first thing, and I’d been excused from classes so I could get on a bus to Massachusetts at 9:00 a.m. (we were playing Tabor today and tomorrow). I’d spent the night in his room, my backpack and duffel bag for this weekend packed and ready to go. My hockey stuff was waiting at the rink.
Luke rolled over, buried his face in my neck, and mumbled, “So dramatic.”
I smiled and ran a hand through his hair. Sleepy Luke was one of my favorite Lukes, all cute and rumpled with his bedhead and pajamas. I had physically ached last night, getting under the covers with him, our legs tangling together—heavenly.How can I have this every night?I’d asked myself after Luke fell asleep.Because Ineedto have this every night.
“Okay, come back,” Luke groaned when I was up and in my team jacket, and trying to chug a cup of Keurig coffee. He lifted the edge of his comforter. “Please.”
“Sorry.” I shook my head. We’d hit snooze a couple of times, and the rink was a trek from Brooks. “I’m already going to need to run there.”
“But you’re a solid runner,” he pointed out, smirking hard.
I was in love with him.
“Ticktock…”
“Okay.” I put down his new orange-and-blue UVA mug. “But just for a second.”
“Dibs on the window bed,” Paddy said as I swiped us into our room for the night, on the third floor of the Hampton Inn near Tabor’s campus. He and I always bunked together on away trips.
I tossed Luke’s pillow on the closer of the two beds. It was cool and soft and smelled like him, peppermint and soap and whatever else made him smell the way he did. Paddy did the same with his, and then we unzipped our hockey bags to air out our stuff. Skates, shin guards, shoulder pads, elbow pads, gloves—everything cameout so it could dry overnight. Nothing was worse than putting on wet equipment in the morning.
After that, the team congregated in Nick’s room for about an hour. Tomorrow was an early start, so Coach Meyer informed us that he was coming around at 10:45 p.m. to check that we were all where we were supposed to be. I played with the remote until I found the Rangers-Bruins game on TV, and Cody broke out Cards Against Humanity before some of us went on a field trip to the vending machines up the hall. Things sort of wound down after we epically failed at prank-calling Emma on the fourth floor. “I’m hanging up now, Paddy,” she said the last time, after two minutes of him breathing heavily into the hotel phone’s mouthpiece. “Sleep tight.”
“Well, I don’t really know how to say this,” Paddy said after our face-to-face with Coach Meyer, “but do you mind if I FaceTime?” His face reddened. “Val, uh, wanted to know how the game went…”
Paddy had invited Val to our Tacky Christmas, and they’d been hanging out ever since (Awkward? A bit). “All right, I’ll split,” I said, digging around in my backpack for my new iPad. “Gotta make a call myself.”
Paddy smirked. “Who?”
My chest tightened, but I pulled off a casual shrug. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
I took the elevator down to the lobby. We’d stayed at this hotel before, so I pretty much knew all the attractions. The businesscenter’s door was locked, but with one grand flourish of my room key, I was in. There were four Dell desktops and two printers, and I could hear something humming as I dropped down into one of the swivel chairs. But instead of logging onto a computer, I propped my feet up on the desk and unlocked my iPad, swiping to the FaceTime app.
Luke appeared on-screen after three rings, sitting at his desk, which he referred to as thecommand center. His cheeks were flushed and his breathing heavy, like he’d been running. “Hey there.”
“You guys turned on the turf lights tonight,” I responded.
And he grinned. “It wasabsurd.”
Sage and the girls had been monitoring the turf’s snow situation all week. “Still some patches,” Reese had reported on Wednesday, but at dinner yesterday, Nina’s recon was way more promising: “Melting as we speak!”
“A shit-ton of people,” Luke said, taking off his baseball hat so he could smooth down his hair.Douchey lax bro flowthe girls had nicknamed it, since he’d avoided getting a haircut over break. I sort of loved it.
