by Jolene Perry
“B.R, you know that’s not what I meant, and…I don’t know if that’s such a good idea…I mean, you’re there for a reason, ya know? It’s not like—”
“Fuck off, Blake. Don’t try and play that holier-than-thou crap with me.” Fucking anxiety. My hands start to shake. They know me, so they should know I don’t have a problem. I’m not on anything right now, and I was fine before he started in on me. Actually, I was better than fine. Maybe even good.
He sounds concerned when he says, “I’m not trying to be a jerk. We all party. Hell, Chase likes to have a good time almost as much as you, but it’s different. None of us end up in the hospital. We make meetings and don’t get lost in other countries. You scared us, man. If Maryanne hadn’t been there…”
Yeah, Maryanne who was the one who hooked me up in the first place. “Speaking of Maryanne, I’m going to go and call her. At least she doesn’t give me shit when I talk to her.” She knows I don’t have a problem. She doesn’t even have the same crazy schedule as us, but she gets why I do what I do on the rare times I do it.
“That’s because she’s a pill-popping groupie! She wants in your pants because she wants your money and because—”
I don’t know what else he says because I hang up the phone. Screw him. Screw all of them. They don’t know what they’re talking about. Patting my pockets, I look for my cigarettes before I remember I’m out. I shake my hands, hoping it will make the trembling stop. This time, when I pick up my phone, I call Maryanne. She answers on the first ring.
“Hey, Bishop.”
“Did you send it?”
She giggles. “Yep.”
I fall back, not even realizing I’d sat up, already feeling a little better.
…
“I got you a laptop.” Gary walks in front of me and glances over his shoulder.
I suck in a breath of cold air. “You did?”
Gary nods. “It might come in handy. You never know.”
We’re silent for a few minutes as we keep walking. Thank you, tell him thank you. I tense a little as a car passes us. With the snow piled next to the road, and no shoulder, there isn’t a lot of room for walking.
Gary shoves his hands tighter in his pockets. “Do you like working on the car with Gramps?”
“Obviously, man. You know I like cars.”
He glances at me before his gaze shifts back to the icy road. “I did? Hate to break it to you, Bishop, but I didn’t. I’ve never even heard you talk about cars until we got here.”
That’s stupid. Or maybe I just didn’t talk about them with him. “I have a Ranchero at home. I plan to fix her up. I’m thinking I’ll get started if you guys ever let my ass out of here.”
That remark earns me a smile, but I know Gary won’t offer to let me out early. “When I was in college, things were crazy busy. I was working with Don some of the time and you know how much of a slave driver he is. Kind of like with our walks, though, I set out a certain amount of time where I could just do what I wanted—something I loved. Not work, not school, just something that was happy-Gary time.”
Here we go again. With my top lip, I play with my piercing before answering. “That’s not always easy to do on the road.”
We take a few steps in silence, and I like it when this happens. Like he’s actually listening to what I’m saying and taking it in instead of jumping in with some random slogan to help me feel better. “If it’s important, you find time. If you don’t look out for yourself, Bishop, no one else will. I’m not stupid. I know you can’t work on a car on the road, but you can read up on them. Make plans for what you want to work on next. Or cars can be your home thing and you can find something else—something good for you that gives you that same feeling to do on the road.”
Without thinking, I nod. That kind of makes sense. There have been so many times I thought I would go crazy on a plane or in a hotel room. It might be kind of cool to have something planned to do during those times.
At some point, Gary must have slowed down or I sped up because we’re walking together now. “Troy is a planner. He drives me bat shit crazy sometimes. He keeps calendars all over the house and his phone beeps every five minutes to remind him of something. And God, don’t let him miss his time in the gym because then I actually want to strangle him, but the point is, it’s what works. His activities give him something to look forward to, and his schedule helps him feel grounded.”
Gary pauses, leaving this conversation similar to the one he did about trees. “What keeps you grounded, Bishop Riley?”
I don’t know.
…
Schedules. I have one of those, too. A pill schedule and one with Gramps.
For the fifth morning in a row, I check with Gramps to see if I got any mail. I’ve been holding out, keeping my pills to only take every few days, and it’s working okay. Still, when he tells me no, it freaks me out a little. Mail shouldn’t take this long.
Like every other day, we get to work on the Corvette. He calls me “Rookie” all the time, which I would have thought would be annoying. When, coming from him, it’s not. It’s a blast working on the car with him. He’s a nutcase, with his crazy beard and crazier jokes, but a cool one and we’re actually making some progress with her.
I hardly see Penny. Gramps says she’s been practicing late or something. She definitely takes this hockey stuff seriously.
Sometimes, Gramps and I are quiet almost the whole day. Other times, he tells me stories about when he was younger, about wars, traveling, and even girls. Gramps likes to talk about girls, which I think is pretty cool. He doesn’t sugarcoat anything and even though I’m quiet most of the time, I have a feeling I could tell him anything.
I kind of think he might know everything already.
Once in a while, he’ll act a little strange, mumbling about weird stuff or something, but the guy is old as dirt. I figure that’s got to be normal. I’d be insane right now if it wasn’t for him and this car, I know that. Twice Gary has taken a break from working and reading to come out and watch us. He gets a kick out of Gramps, and Gramps definitely knows Gary is a little loony. Okay, maybe not loony, but mushy as hell. He got three calls from Troy the other day, and he’d get all smiley each time. Every time Gary turned his back, Gramps would put his finger to his temple, spin it in a circle, and mouth “crazy” at me.
He’s awesome.
The nights are killing me, though. It’s almost like I’m transported back to the stage. Or maybe not even there, but an empty room where I can still hear the people calling for me.
This town is enough to drive anyone crazy. It gets dark too early. I’m stuck inside the cabin with nothing but Gary, two TV channels, my drums, and now a laptop. How do they think this helps? It’s making me go nuts. My shaking is getting worse. Every time I try to sleep, my head is suddenly flooded with stuff that doesn’t matter. It sucks.
After hours of lying awake in the dark, I get up and turn on my laptop and look up the first thing that pops into my mind. It doesn’t take me long to find a couple online car magazine subscriptions to buy. Now what? So, I pull up an empty document to type but my fingers struggle on the keys, a little of the trembling coming back.
I slam the laptop closed and fall back against the couch. What the fuck kind of schedule could I make for myself anyway?
If Maryanne’s package would get here, it would help take the edge off. That’s all I need, a little help taking the edge off…
…
It’s late one night when I notice Penny sliding into the hot tub, that white-blond hair all shimmering. Damn, the girl is hot. I’m not sure if she realizes how hot she is. Or maybe she does. Spur of the moment, I shove my feet in my boots, grab the jacket I’m getting tired of wearing, and go outside.
“Hey.” I walk up the stairs. She has her head leaned back, resting on the deck.
Penny doesn’t even bother to open her eyes. “Want to get in?”
“Nah.”
We’re both quiet for
a minute, her staring at the back of her eyelids and me staring at her. There has to have been a reason for me to come out here, only I can’t think of it right now. “So…the mail? I have a package coming. How long does it usually take?”
Finally, she opens her eyes and turns her head a little. “Depends. Priority or regular mail?”
I can’t believe I didn’t think to ask. “Not sure.”
“If it’s regular mail, it can take forever. Sometimes a couple weeks.”
A couple weeks? “Tell me you’re kidding.”
She rolls her eyes like I’m an idiot. “Bishop, you’re in Alaska.”
Panic starts to set it. Wait, panic? No, I just don’t want Maryanne to get caught mailing that stuff. It’s not like I’m totally jonesing for it. “Yeah, Alaska, not the moon. A couple weeks? Remind me why anyone would choose to live here?”
The scowl on her face tells me I said the wrong thing. “There’s nothing wrong with here. I don’t get why everyone thinks that.” She closes her eyes again, ignoring me. Obviously, I hit a sore spot.
“Sorry,” I mumble, a little surprised that I apologized to her. “If you like it so much, why are you leaving? Gramps says you have a ton of big colleges who want you. That you’re just deciding where to go.”
Her eyes widen before her face pulls into a frown. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“What? Are you scared to leave?”
The look she gives me tells me that was definitely the wrong thing to say.
Chapter Eight
PENNY
“Scared to leave? I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that.” I need time to think about what to say so I slide down until the water covers my head before sitting up and wiping my face. But I still don’t know if I’m going to give him a real answer or not. “It just…It doesn’t matter. I don’t know where I’m going to college, okay?”
Bishop will agree with the rest of them and tell me I need to go. Take advantage of the opportunity.
Just because the college teams might want me doesn’t mean I want them. Irritation washes through me in full force as I think about how even my team is pushing me. The guys were all slapping my back after two more colleges contacted Coach about me this week. It’s not like I’m the only one of us getting offers—I’m just the only one who hasn’t decided.
Why does everyone want me to leave?
Bishop shrugs. “Figured it was a big deal that so many people wanted you.”
“Why?” I snap. “’Cause I’m a girl?”
His brows rise a bit. I can feel myself being a bitch, but I can’t care right now. Chomps slammed me hard in practice today, and my whole body aches. My brain hurts from the pressure of our games and school and Gramps and another day of Rebecca making kissy faces at Mitch, and I just need to be alone for a bit.
“Hell, no.” He chuckles. “That makes you more scary.”
He’s even being nice.
“Semifinals are in three days. I’m wound up.” I’m almost…apologizing. Crazy. “I’m going to take a handful of Advil and drop into bed.”
Something in Bishop’s expression tightens before relaxing again. “Yeah. Okay.”
Neither of us moves, but I hate the tension between us. The ride home from Pat’s, snowmachining—Bishop is fun in a way I never expected.
“Shit. I’m sorry.” I pull my knees to my chest while I put my thoughts together. “I already know what I want. I want to go to UAA or UAF, and apparently that’s not big enough for someone who’s wanted by some of the best women’s college hockey teams in America.”
Bishop stares at me long enough that I swear I start to shrink. “After all the shit I’ve heard come from your mouth, I can’t believe you’d let anyone talk you into anything. You’re stronger than that.”
“I don’t…” I blink a few times at his compliment. Stunned by what sounds like concrete belief in me and what I want. “It’s hard when so many people expect so much.”
He fingers his lip ring for a moment, making me wonder what prompted him to get it. The silence between us this time is relaxed. “That’s definitely something I can relate to.”
I watch him for any sign or hint that he might tell me something about himself, but he just keeps playing with his lip and staring across the water. For some reason, him being someone I don’t know well makes it easier to talk. “I should be thrilled to play on women’s teams. But knowing I can stay in a place I love and keep playing with guys who I actually know how to get along with and talk to…I don’t see the point in giving that up. Especially when I’m not even sure what I want to study.”
Bishop scoots closer, searching my face in a way that twinges the feeling of want inside me again. “Penny, you’re probably the toughest chick I’ve ever met. You’ll figure it out, and once Gramps and your mom see you happy, they’ll get it, too.”
“Maybe.” I roll onto my stomach to face him more directly and rest my chin on my arms. It’s so strange. It’s almost like he understands me. “But right now, I feel like the hero, and if I do what I want, I might…” lose it. They might think I wimped out. Was too scared to go.
“If you talked to Gary, he’d feed you some bullshit line about how sometimes we have to hit bottom before we figure out what we want. But you don’t need that. You know what you want, and it’s something that’s cool. Do what you want Penny, because you want to do it. No way in hell, with your track record, that it won’t work out.”
A corner of his mouth pulls up in a half-smile, and I stare at his lips. Now the silence feels awkward because there’s a small part of me that wonders what kissing him would feel like, what the ring would feel like pressed against my lips, and the longer I stare the bigger that part gets.
Snap. Out. Now.
“You’re a lot less of an asshole than I figured you’d be when you first got here.”
Bishop snorts as he stands with a real smile this time. “Only you, Penny. Get some sleep.”
I give him a salute and even return his smile, which feels like maybe something new for me. And it might be big.
…
I swap notes on the kitchen table with Mom.
Penny - Sorry, it feels like I haven’t seen you in forever. I should be here and hopefully still awake when you get home from school. I see we have three more possible scholarship offers to talk about! So proud of you! Love, Mom
I flip her paper over and write my own.
Mom - All’s good. No worries. Miss seeing you around.Love, Penny
That’s easier than trying to spit out everything that’s on my mind. Mom and I haven’t talked for real in way too long. I definitely don’t know how to start with a note.
…
School is just school. I do it so I can play hockey. The guys and I are all wound up tight, and Mitch and Rebecca are more attached than ever. Apparently, her dad walked in on them having sex one afternoon and isn’t letting her out of his sight aside from when she’s at school. So. They’re trying to make up for lost alone time…in the hallway.
I’ve definitely been pushed aside for Rebecca because Mitch and I have barely spoken since this whole mess went down a few days ago.
Coach takes it way too easy on us again. We need to really skate, not glide around like figure skaters carrying sticks. Beauty rest. What the hell is that?
I need distraction. When I leave school, I head straight home. I might work on my car or see what Gramps is up to. But with my car comes missing my dad, and some days it’s hard to see Gramps be confused. Some part in the back of my brain wonders if Bishop will be bored. If he’ll be playing drums, or if he’ll be hanging on his porch. Maybe he’ll be up for something.
When I pull up, Bishop’s on his porch, smoking again. I hate cigarettes. They stink. And they make everything else stink. But I’m still glad he’s out here because it makes me feel less stalker-ish in asking him to do something with me. And the weirdest thing happens because I freeze as my hand hits the door handle. What if
he says no? I can feel each heartbeat and hate that he’s affecting me and making me feel weak. This is stupid. I’m Penny. I can handle some random guy.
“Hey,” I say as I jump out of my truck. “If you wipe that cigarette smell off, wanna come with me for another ride?”
Bishop glances at the newly started cigarette in his hand and drops it to the ground, frowning. He stares at his hands for a moment before meeting my eyes.
“Well, shit.” I fold my arms. “Grumpy Bishop is back. What’s up with you?”
“Some shit with the ban—” He shakes his head. “I don’t know…Maybe another time, or…”
“Come on.” I grin, hating how grouchy he is. But he saved me from myself the other night in the hot tub, so maybe today I can save him. “You know you’re curious. Go brush your teeth, get your ass in your snowmachine gear, and come play.”
He pushes out a breath. “Give me a sec.”
He disappears into his cabin, and like an idiot, I’m holding in a smile because he said yes.
…
“So, what does the mighty Snow Queen have in store for this evening?” he asks as he steps into the garage, smelling like mint toothpaste and cigarettes. At least he tried.
I let the stupid queen name pass because it looks like his day was worse than mine. “A ride somewhere cool.”
“Where?” he asks as he sits on the machine next to mine.
I stare at him for a moment, wanting to do something to get the frown off his face. “Trust me?”
He gives me his hot half-smile again which sends a rush through me. “Hell, no I don’t trust you. But I’ll follow you out of here for a while.”
I bite my lip to hold in a grin and hit the gas so hard that the front of the machine floats for the first hundred feet or so.
No matter how fast I go, I can’t shake Bishop. He’s not moving ahead, because I’ve taken two turns on the trail, but he wants to make sure that I know there’s a chance he could beat me if he knew where we were going. I can totally appreciate that.
We hit the edge of the mountain and start the climb. He’s going to love this, and as I keep my thumb on the throttle and we keep climbing, I’m even more glad he was on the porch when I got there.