“You’re not going?” I stop to face him.
“If we finish early enough, I’ll catch the end of the game.” He shrugs. “If not, it’s no big deal. I’m not much of a drinker.”
“Okay,” I pause, “then I’ll see you Saturday.”
I don’t give him a chance to respond before I leave. I don’t turn around to see if he’s watching me. I don’t turn to see if he’s heading to his next class. I just fight these little flutters in my stomach because I know how it ends.
And I’ll be damned if I repeat freshman year.
seven
Declan
She hasn’t said a single thing since she got here.
When I opened the door, she didn’t even wait for me to welcome her in before she pushed past me and made herself comfortable at the kitchen island. Even after bringing out snacks, which she enjoyed, there was never a thank you. I don’t care who you are and how you feel about someone; athank youis always necessary when someone does something kind. That’s what my momma taught me.
But she’s so laser-focused on the task at hand, like if she doesn’t get out of here in a timely manner, the whole world will end. She’s typing away at her keyboard with lightning speed. I don’t even know what to contribute because she already knows what to say and how to say it.
“Hey, so I was doing some research last night,” I begin, waiting for her to look at me. Acknowledge me. She doesn’t, but I continue anyway, “It’s ahead of the game, but I thought we could start planning for the second half of the project while working on this half.”
“Okay,” is all she says. Then she stops typing and turns to me. It’s the first time she’s looked at me since she got her over an hour ago. “Whatcha got?”
Part of me doesn’t know what to say. I honestly didn’t think I’d make it this far. I thought she’d make some sassy comments and then move on.
“I’ve heard that most of the groups in our class are planning a more conventional business path.”
“And where’d you hear that?”
I can hear the slight teasing in her voice. She probably thinks I’m sleeping with one, if not multiple girls, in our class.
In reality, it was Zeke who slept with two girls in our class. I guess one of them wouldn’t shut up about how amazing her group's idea for the project was and that it was almost a turnoff… almost.
“It’s not important. What’s important is that we should do something that stands out from the rest. Mr. Randsen is a hard ass, but I doubt he wants to watch the same presentation over and over again.”
“Okay,” she mumbles, and her whole body turns toward me this time. I now have her full attention, and if I’m being honest, it’s kind of intimidating. “Where are you going with this?”
“So, I was thinking hockey—”
“Of course,” she scoffs, turning back to her computer. It’s like she thinks that’s all that I know. All that I’m good for—hockey.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. I shouldn’t be surprised that’s what you chose.”
“Shouldn’t you start a business with something you’re passionate about?” I question. I’m kind of offended, but at the same time, I’m not. I’m used to it.
“Well, yeah, but—”
“And for me, that’s hockey. Now, if you would avoid speaking to me like you did for the first hour, I could finish telling you my idea.”
She dramatically locks her lips before typing away.
“I want our business to cater to low-income neighborhoods and families who can’t afford hockey gear. We’d sell quality gear for a low price or even let families rent it out weekly for free. I know a lot of kids who would’ve loved to play hockey but couldn’t afford it.”
I was lucky to grow up in the family I did. I wasn’t a spoiled child, but I had everything handed to me when it came to hockey. If I needed new skates or equipment, I had it within the hour. Not all of us are that lucky.
“And because most parents can’t afford to send their kids to lessons, we teach them for free.”
