Mila sighs. “I don’t blame you. This is –– big.”
My mind spirals. “What if––”
“What?” Mila says. “No. Don’t start with the what ifs, Melly.”
Lucy shakes her head. “Just talk to him.”
I look out the window, watching the crowd disappear into their vehicles, and those vehicles are cutting each other off.
Once we’re on the road, Mila says, “Put it in your bag.”
“What?”
“The puck.”
I look at it, not wanting to let it go.
“Babe. Put it in your bag. You are going to walk into his kitchen holding a puck he gave you, and the entire team is going to give him shit for it.”
Gianna adds, “They probably already are.”
“And you know Blue. He’s…”
She doesn’t have to finish the sentence.
“Yeah,” I say.
I do know him.
I don’t want to put it down, but I listen to the girls and unzip my bag. I slide the puck into the pocket where I keep my lip balm and the tampon I have not used since September.
My hand stays flat against the outside of the bag.
The Uber pulls up to an empty house on Hawthorne Street. The house is dark from the outside. The boys are not home yet. We get out. Gianna has a spare key. She unlocks the door, pushes it open, and walks in like she lives here. The house is warm, and it smells like the boys. Gianna drops her keys on the entry bench and hangs her coat on the hook above it. She walks straight to the kitchen, and Lucy follows.
I stand in the entry for a second and can’t believe I’m in this house again. I can’t believe Chase has been here, too, and the thought dawns on me that I haven’t even thought of Chase once today. He and I are completely over.
I take my coat off and hang it on the hook next to Gianna’s, but I keep my bag because the puck is in it and it’s my most prized possession. It means more than words could ever say.
Lucy calls us over, so Mila and I walk into the kitchen where she’s opening the fridge. She pulls a six-pack, pops two cans, hands one to Gianna, and one to Mila.
“Diet Coke?” she asks me.
“Yes. Please.”
She pulls a Diet Coke out of the second shelf, and she hands it to me. Then she pulls out the rest of the cans.
“What’re you doing?” Mila asks as Gianna and Lucy pile them onto the counter.
Gianna smiles. “Making art.”
Lucy starts arranging the cans into a line.
Mila watches them rearrange the cans and asks, “For?”
Gianna says, “We’re going to spell the wordlosers.”
Lucy snickers.
