"I-If—" That I stutter, despite having the time to collect myself, has me braking to a verbal halt.
Agitated, I wriggle my neck from side to side.
My mind races to find a response that she’ll accept, but I can only blurt out, "W-What if I wanted to know w-what k-kissing you felt like?"
A shocked gasp escapes her. "So you could add me to the collective bed post you and your fuckface teammates are collating? You think I don't know your reputation more than lives up to its notoriety? You think I don't see the girls that leave our apartment at allhours of the night and day?”
“You’re right to throw that at me, D.”
“No shit!”
Her anger is a wall I don’t know how to climb so I focus on the truth.
“When Mom left me behind, something inside me cracked. I had to get out of the house. Moving countries wasn’t far away enough.” In the immediate aftermath, I abandoned the family home and moved into our shared apartment a couple months before the summer semester started. “You know how much I was drinking. How I partied every night. It was dumb of me. Nothing let me forget my grief. My bitterness about her dying.” I rake a hand through my hair. “When beer and late nights interfered with my game, I stopped and carried on fucking too much instead. Tonight… the video, I need you to know they have nothing to do with each other.
"You're not a trophy," I justify, knowing that I deserve her criticism.
Not that she's ever verbalized it before.
She hasn't even rolled her eyes or shaken her head at the number of puck bunnies who cling to me when she and I hang out together.
For my interminably impatient friend, she’s been patient with me. More than I deserve. Especially if they’ve all treated her like shit.
"Well, way to go because you made me feel like one. When I was waiting for you, I literally heard Addison bragging about how big your dick is, Zach. Then you come and kiss me and film it for a stupid video?! Seriously, does our friendship mean so little to you? Answer my question this time."
"No," I grate out, pissed at Addison and at myself and at the world. But I have no one butmeto blame here. "You mean everything to me, Denny. You have to know that."
"So why jeopardize what we have together?"
I want to close my eyes and hide from her question, but I'm driving and she's sitting next to me. I'm not doing anything to threaten her safety.
I know I just screwed up our friendship more than I did in tenth grade when Pecan and I hung out with Jason Dupree and Miles Lander then dumped her becausebros don't have chicks that are friends.
Took me until Christmas that same year to figure out that the reason I hated classes, that the reason I felt like hurling a thousand pucks into Peek’s goalie mask at the prospect of going to goddamn school every day, was because I'd cut her out. Never mind Pecan, who went from a solid C student to a D/F one.
She paid us back for our defection, too. Made us grovel and work our way into her good graces.
Took us four months until she let us sit beside her in class again.
God, my Denny never lets me get away with shit and I love her for it.
Even if she demands I leave our apartment, I will because that’s the least she deserves.
“Alec has spent the past few weeks collecting these d-dumb videos,” I admit. “Pecan kissed me and sent it over and I said that was my version too, but Alec wouldn’t let it go.
“I didn’t really give a fuck if he wasn’t happy, but tonight, when I walked out of the Pond and saw you sitting there, l-l-like always… You’re always there, Denny. Always.” Tonight, she was more focused on Callan, though, and maybe that played a part in… I’m such an idiot. “And I… I just realized that you’re the only person I want to talk about the game with.
“Every minute I'm in the locker room and those asswipes take up my time, I resent it because I want to see YOU. Be withyou.
“You told me about Mom and Mel and I figured I knew all your secrets like you know most of mine. But I don’t. And I resent that. I want to know everything about you. Every little thing. Even that won’t be enough. And I want you to know everything about me too.
“Alec’s video gave me permission to do something I’ve not been able to get out of my head for w-weeks. I’ve wanted to kiss you. No trend. No dumb videos. Just me and you. Best friends, sure. Butmore.”
“More?” she asks weakly.
“Y-Y-Yes. This was an excuse—not to use you. But to see if my mind and body were playing tricks on me. A kiss. With justification. One that I could fall back on if… but I should have had more faith in my instincts. I shouldn’t have put us on the line when I always knew how that kiss would turn out.”
When we approach our building, I half-expect her to dart out of my SUV once I pull up at a stoplight.
