“That’s awesome!” I smiled. Because I didn’t care anymore. I really, really didn’t. “I’d try ice hockey in another life.”
Natalie smiled back a little. “I played field hockey freshman year, but only lasted a season.” She dropped her voice. “Ireallyhate running.”
I laughed, and without a word, Davis knew to walk away, and by the time he returned, Natalie had apologized and we were talking about music. Phoebe Bridgers, specifically.
“Are you ready to go?” he asked politely.
“Yeah.” She turned back to me. “We’ll talk details later?”
“Definitely.” I nodded, and after we exchanged numbers, she unexpectedly hugged me.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I thought you were cool the moment we met, but Davis…”
“Don’t worry about it,” I said, breaking out of the hug. “I totally get it.”
Because, hey, I did.
Skates freshly sharpened, I sat in one of the snack bar’s booths to wait for Chad. I’d unlocked my phone and opened my dead-end conversation with Marco, tempted to text him. According to a field hockey teammate, I should never “double-text” a guy, but I wasn’t interested in Marco; he was just a friend—or, a pseudofriend.
Hey, I’m sorry, I typed.I was way out of line. If you like Shelly—
“Madeline?”
I looked up from my phone and felt invisible insects skitter and scatter all over my skin before my heart began to hammer.Penn State, I thought, mind flashing back to State Night at Tiger Inn. The guy in the PENN STATE shirt who wouldn’t let me leave that basement until I’d pepper sprayed the shit out of him. Here he was, right in front of me. Blond hair, brown eyes, dimpled smile.
“Get away.” It took a hell of a lot to keep my voice level. “Get away from me.”
Penn State furrowed his brow, as if confused. “What?”
“You heard me,” I said, suddenly feeling trapped in my booth. “Away.” I raised one of my skates, as if to threaten him.
“Okay…” he said slowly. “I really don’t know what’s going on here.”
Liar, I thought.He remembers my name, so he remembers what he did.
“Two words,” I still reminded him. “Pepper spray.”
Penn State backed off, taking several giant steps away from me. I seized the opportunity to scramble out of the booth and toward the rink’s automatic doors.
“Wait, where are you going?” he called after me. “I don’t understand!”
I stopped for a second. “We didn’t have much fun the first time around,Derek,” I told him dryly. “Which means Ihighlydoubt today—”
“Derek?” The guy cocked his head. “You think I’m Derek?”
Now I was the one confused. “Well, aren’t you?”
“No.” He shook his head. “No, no, no. I’m Chad. Derek is my brother.”
Brother?
I didn’t believe him.
I might’ve asked to see his driver’s license.
Whelan, Chadwick, it read, along with a birth year the same as mine.
“You look like identical twins,” I said weakly when returning his ID. My heart rate had slowed down, almost back to normal.
