He taps the side of his head with his pointer finger.
“I’m not just a pretty face, kid.”
“Or even,” I reply, and he fakes offense then laughs it off.
This is nice, hanging out with White like this. I haven’t really done anything with the guys outside of training and games, other than Coach’s team-building things. I guess I probably should. I was super close with my team in college, but I also shared more than half my classes with those guys and lived in the same frat house as a bunch of them too. I guess it can’t hurt to go tonight, though. At the very least, I’ll get to try King’s Pizza. The soft speakers overhead start playing one of my favorite mashups, and an idea hits me. I can make Reid a playlist for his birthday. It can be his Post-Hart-Puck-up Playlist.
“What has you smiling like that?” White asks, and I shake my head.
“Nothing. I think I just figured out what to get the cap for his birthday.”
“Promise me you’re not reconsidering the glitter bomb idea?”
“That was your idea, not mine.”
“Still, we both agree, it was a bad idea, right?”
“Yes. Sending my captain a glitter bomb for his birthday is a bad idea.”
“Good. Just checking,” White replies in all seriousness. Why he thinks I’d ever do something like that is beyond me. But I guess he doesn’t really know me that well. None of the guys do. That changes tonight.
I leave White and head to the shopping complex. On the walk there, I make a start on the playlist. The first song I add is “Eye of the Tiger” by Survivor, and then I add in a few songs that I think will make him smile, or possibly roll his eyes, like “Don’t Stop Believin’”—the Glee version, of course. And then I add in my hardcore, get the blood pumping, all-time favorites like “Treasure” by Bruno Mars, and “Power” by Little Mix. By the time I’ve searched through a dozen stores for something physical I can give him, to attach the printed out QR code for the playlist to, I’ve included fifty songs, adding up to over two hours of listening.
I’m about to give up and just print it on paper to slip into a card when I spot the key-cutting place. It has four stands with rotating columns of keychains in every shape you can think of. I quickly scan down one with footballs and tennis rackets at the top until I spot a blue and red hockey-skate-shaped keychain. The colors don’t exactly match the Foxes, but they’re close enough.
“You can have any of those laser-engraved with your name and address if you like,” the guy behind the counter says as I slip the skate free from the stand. Why would you put your address on your keychain? That’s like inviting whoever found your keys to come and rob you.
“Can the laser engrave a QR code?” I ask.
“Sure can.”
“Great. I’ll take this one.”
I screenshot the QR code and send it to the guy’s shop mobile. He uploads it into his engraving program, and when it’s finished, he rubs something black over the back of the keyring and it settles into the grooves, making the code stand out perfectly against the shiny metal.
“Do you need anything else?” he asks as he passes it over for me to test out. The code loads first go.
“A small box if you have one.”
He rummages below the counter for a minute, then pulls out three small boxes. One’s covered in red roses, another’s a shiny black, but the third is like Goldilocks, just right, because it’s covered in yellow sunflowers.
He passes me a small square gift card and a pen.
“Thanks,” I reply, tapping my bank card to pay the perfectly reasonable twenty-dollar price tag. I take a moment to think about what to write, then add, “Since we’re clearly not great at agreeing on anything, here’s a playlist for the next time I inevitably piss you off, so you’ll at least have something good to listen to.” And then I sign the card the same way I signed off on the flowers, with a simple L.
Okay, now what do I wear.
Chapter fourteen
Reid
“Istheblindfoldreallynecessary?” I ask as I shuffle forward. My feet kick against loose gravel and send rocks pinging into what sounds like plastic and metal a few feet away. A familiar smell lingers nearby, growing stronger with every step, but I can’t place it. It’s rich and sweet and maybe a little woody. I trip a little, but catch myself before falling, and my brother’s grip tightens on my arms.
“David ordered it special, so you’ll wear it, and you’ll love it,” Benj says. He’s on my right, which means David is on my left. Hopefully. He hasn’t said anything since we got out of the car, so it could be anyone, and I wouldn’t know. They insisted I put on the blindfold as soon as I got in the car back at home, so I’ve been denied my sight for what feels like hours now, just hoping to god that my brothers don’t have some nefarious plan to drive me out to the woods and lead me into a lake or off a cliff.
“Where are we going?”
“Dinner,” David says, breaking his silence.
