by Cindi Madsen
“You, Beck, and Hudson should try something like that next game.”
Silence fell over the room again, just the announcer and the noise of the TV. Maybe it was having a big family, but I liked noise. When I first arrived in Boston, I thought I liked the silence, but it only lasted a week or so before I missed the noise.
Of course then I’d been missing Jazmine, too. Which reminded me that I should check in with Cass and see if anything had changed. She said she wanted one more week to try to talk sense into Lissa before tattling to Mom and Dad. I told her it wasn’t tattling, but she said she worried with everything else they were fighting about, one more thing might break them.
Maybe I should try to call Jaz again, and see if I can’t help that way. I know somewhere under her pissed-off shell there’s got to be a girl who doesn’t want to see my sister get into trouble.
Dread rose up, my fingers heavy at the thought of even scrolling to her number.
Then I thought of Megan again. If I told her what was going on, would she understand? Have some idea of how to get through to my sister? After all, she at least understood the brother-sister dynamic.
If nothing else, she’d make me laugh, something it felt like I hadn’t done in weeks. Correction. I’d laughed exactly a week ago, when I’d been hanging out with her.
But every time we were together, I could tell she wanted more, and I wanted to give it to her all too often when I was around her. It was a promise I knew I couldn’t keep, though—I hadn’t with Jazmine, and look at how that turned out.
Plus, without the distraction of hanging out with her and fighting myself at every turn, I’d almost kept up in every class this week. I turned in all the assignments, and yesterday when my professor floored me by mentioning he was impressed by a paper I wrote, I decided not to drop any of my courses—that I could get a degree in a subject I was actually interested in, and that I’d do it for my family. All the stress going on at home only gave me more reasons to do it. Even if I went pro, the information I was learning would come in handy.
The game ended—the Bruins winning by one—and Ox handed me the bag of chips and retreated to his room.
I tossed aside the mostly crumb-filled bag and thought of pancakes and good strong coffee. I couldn’t sit here much longer without going insane. Maybe Megan would end up at the diner, too, and if we just so happened to cross paths, it wouldn’t exactly be my fault that I broke down and saw her.
It was a weak argument—one I was having with myself, which made me worry about my mental state—but the more I thought about it, the more I decided that if I went there tonight, she’d show up.
And then maybe I could figure out a way to keep Megan in my life without ruining everything.
Chapter Nineteen
Megan
The celebration over the Bruins win was wild and loud enough that my ears buzzed, even after we exited the pub.
Stuart and Carson insisted on coming with Vanessa and me to walk us home. Which was either very chivalrous of them, or they thought they could get a little action-type reward for it. I suspected a bit of both, because they did seem like nice guys.
The glowing coffee-mug-shaped sign for the diner caught my eye and I nearly tripped over my feet. Even though I swore I wasn’t going to fixate on Dane anymore—and regardless of the fact that he hadn’t been in there either of the times I stopped by this week—I wanted to go in and see if he was seated in a booth.
I wanted to play sugar packet field goal and drink too much of Larry’s extra-strong coffee. I squinted, and I swore I could see Dane’s outline in the booth he frequented, a lone hockey player settled in for a long night of not sleeping.
Then Stuart put his hand on my back, breaking the spell and reminding me I was making new friends and exploring other potential boyfriend options. I quickened my pace, shaking off the night that could’ve been if Dane had cared to text or call.
When we neared our building, Vanessa bumped her shoulder into me and whispered, “Yay or nay?”
As surreptitiously as possible, I whispered, “On inviting them up?”
Vanessa shot the guys a smile and covertly thumbed out what I assumed was a text on her phone.
My pocket buzzed a second later, and I glanced at the screen.
Vanessa: You know what they say. The best way to get over someone is to get under someone new.
My nerves formed a tangled knot in my gut. This was all the rage in college, right? Nights where you met cute guys at a bar and hooked up. At a whopping 72 percent, it was the norm.
Sidenote: I’m going to go ahead and rule out statistics as my major now.
I didn’t want to come across as the naive young freshman girl who thought she’d find the perfect boy her first year of college, but then again, I was over caring what other people thought.
In terms of tonight, what did I truly want?
Would a fun, no-strings night with Stuart make me feel better? I wasn’t sure I was even attracted enough for that, and the last time I had sex had been almost a year ago, and I’d been pressured into it. As if that wasn’t bad enough, the asshole made me sound like a clingy, needy girl afterward.
But not every guy was like that—honestly, I should’ve seen it coming because he’d been kind of a jerk from the beginning—and maybe I could loosen my expectations and attempt something more realistic? Temporary connections with an equally temporary thrill that’d leave me plenty of time to focus on my education. In theory, it sounded like a pretty good idea. But I dealt in proofs.
The buzz of my phone distracted me from my internal debate.
Vanessa: You’re not into it. I got your back, girl.
We arrived at the dorms, and Vanessa spun. “Thanks so much for walking us home, boys.” She glanced at Carson. “You’ve got my number, yeah?”
He nodded.
Vanessa hooked her arm through mine. “Megan and I are going to call it a night, but we enjoyed watching the game with you, and thanks so much for dinner.”
Stuart glanced at me, maybe wanting me to give him my number, but the truth was, I didn’t want to give it to him. Instead of playing twenty questions with myself, I should’ve just looked at the guy, because it made it very clear that he wasn’t the one for me, as a temporary thrill or a potential boyfriend.
With the silence seconds from reaching the about-to-get-awkward stage, Vanessa tugged me toward the door. She waved good-bye, and then we were inside the stale-smelling hallway of our dorm.
“Thank you,” I said as I unlocked the door to our room and pushed inside. I kicked my shoes toward the closet and reached for my earrings. “I know you wanted to spend more time with Carson—you two seemed to hit it off.”
“I wasn’t all-in yet, but I thought maybe we’d see where the night took us. Maybe kiss a little. But like I said, I got your back. From now on, I’m all about girl power.”
“We can form our own A-Force.”
“Yeah, I don’t know what that is,” Vanessa said.
“It’s the all-female Avengers team.”
Her confusion only grew, which wasn’t surprising. It was a fairly new development in the comic book world, and since I’d picked up issues #2 and #3 at the shop last week—along with the stupid old-school Thor one I took a picture of and sent to Dane—it was on my mind. Hopefully someday it would be as well known as the other Avengers team.
“Basically I’m saying that girl power thing?” I reached for my water bottle, twisted off the top, and lifted it in the air. “I’ll drink to that.”
Vanessa grabbed a soda out of the mini-fridge and tapped it to mine. “To chicks over dicks.”
I took a swig, nearly snorting my water. But as for the sentiment, I was going to make it my new motto.
…
I walked across campus toward the library, my thoughts on the assignment I needed to complete for my English class.
“Megan. Wait up!”
I spun to see Dane jogging toward me. My heart skipped a beat, and I
silently scolded it, telling myself to be strong. Since our math class was in the afternoon, I thought I’d have more time to prepare myself.
Then again, I’d had the entire weekend to prepare myself.
“Hey,” he said, his voice slightly breathless.
“Hi.” I continued on the path toward the library and he stayed by my side. “Congrats on your win against UMass.”
“Thanks. It was an intense game.” Dane quickened his pace so he could open the library door for me. “What did you do this weekend?”
“Went to an improv show and watched the Bruin’s game at a pub.”
“Alone?”
I wasn’t sure if that was pity or worry in his voice—my delusional side even thought it heard a hint of jealousy. The temptation to mention Stuart and see if I could deepen it was there, but I batted it away. “Well, there were a lot of people in the pub. But I also took my roommate to both.”
He nodded.
“Yeah, I have people to hang out with.” I wanted to add a jab—something like, people who return my texts, so don’t worry about me. I have lots of friends. But again, I wasn’t going to play games or apologize for doing something for me and trying to move on from my crush.
“Good.” Suddenly he grabbed my arm and pulled me to the right, next to one of the bookshelves. He glanced around, as if he were making sure the coast were clear.
“Hiding from someone?”
“Kind of. There’s this girl who won’t leave me alone.”
“Poor you. I’m sure it must suck for girls to throw themselves at you all the time.”
He looked at me, his eyebrows all scrunched up. “I just—”
“Dane. Hi!” A beautiful girl with dark hair and the most flawlessly done makeup I’d ever seen outside a Hollywood red-carpet event appeared.
Dane threw his arm over my shoulder, curling me right next to him. “Misty. Hey.”
Misty noticed me, then, and her smile turned tight, the kind that looked like it was hard to hold on to.
“This is Megan.”
“Hi,” I said, and I supposed my smile looked about as fake as hers.
“I saw you and thought I’d see what you were up to, but it looks like you’re busy.” Somehow she continued to hold that plastered-on smile, the cool edge to her words not so much as cracking it. I swore she was sizing me up, too, calculating what it’d take to dispose of the competition. Judging by the snide smirk, she didn’t think it’d be much. “See you around.”
Dane’s hands moved to my hips as his focus shifted to me, and my heart forgot it wasn’t beating just for him. My skin, humming under his touch, also decided to pick today to plan a coup against my common sense. “Thanks. That girl’s seriously crazy. Lately I’ve been finding notes on my car from her—it doesn’t matter where I park on campus, either. She doesn’t seem to get that I’m not interested.”
“Haven’t you tried the ‘I’m not into relationships’ speech on her? Honestly, it’d make me feel better if I wasn’t the only one who’d heard it.”
Dane’s face dropped. “Megan.”
“I’m fine, really.”
He cupped my cheek, and I didn’t feel fine. It felt like my insides were crumbling in on themselves. “You know I like spending time with you. Your friendship means a lot to me. And if I were going to…” His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down and he slowly dropped his hand. “It’d definitely be you.”
“I wish that made me feel better. But you’re not going to ever change your mind, are you?”
A muscle in his jaw flexed as determination settled through his features. “Not during hockey season. I just can’t. Plus there’s your brother to think about. It might not seem like it, but I’m trying to protect you—hurting you is the last thing I want to do.”
I hugged my books to my chest, needing the extra barrier. “Like I said, I’m fine. I’ve been making other friends, and if you want to be one of them, you’re going to have to start acting like one, instead of ignoring my calls and texts. And if you don’t call, no worries, I’ll take the hint—I’d hate for you to have to use some other girl to send me a message. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got some research to do before my next class.”
Dane backed up, giving me as wide a berth as the stacks allowed.
I wished standing up for myself and letting him know that I thought his behavior this past week sucked ass made me feel better.
But it only felt like I’d lost someone important.
Chapter Twenty
Dane
One of the fluorescent lights in the hallway of Maloney Hall flickered, buzzing as it fought to stay lit, and I couldn’t seem to look away.
It was easier than wondering what I should do when I stepped inside the classroom for the next round of calculus torture. Did I sit next to Megan? Beg for forgiveness for ignoring her? Even though it killed me, I’d put space between us because it was the only thing I could think of to keep our friendship to just that. But it wasn’t like I could truly ignore her. I spent the past two classes staring at the back of her head and wanting to reach forward and flick one of her crazy earrings. To tangle my fingers in her silky hair.
I wanted to forget everything else, and be optimistic that since we were in the same town and she understood how much time hockey required, maybe I could make us work.
Well, until her brother killed me, but even that was less worrisome than accidentally hurting her. She was right, though. I wasn’t acting like her friend anymore—somehow in trying not to hurt her, I’d done just that.
Add it to my list of failures.
I hardly had time to do anything with my sisters and parents calling me nonstop. While I didn’t have President’s Day off school, my sisters did, and this morning Cass called crying because Lissa had disappeared instead of helping her with our younger two sisters. I called Mom and Dad, thinking I should’ve just done that from the beginning.
Lissa then called to tell me she hated me for ruining her life—she’d always been the most dramatic—and Cassidy said she could’ve at least used a heads-up. I heard two accounts of the horrible screaming match that’d gone down, and when I talked to Dad, he muttered something about way too much estrogen in the house.
Everyone seemed to expect me to fix everything somehow, and I wanted to, but how the hell was I supposed to do anything when I was a couple of states away? Not to mention I was working my ass off to balance my classes and get ready for the Beanpot Tournament—a huge Boston event, mostly for bragging rights between all the local teams.
Tonight was the first game, and we still had our regular season match against New Hampshire on Friday, with the second part of the Beanpot Tournament on the following Monday. If we won tonight, that was, and I fully planned on winning.
Say I had spent an inordinate amount of time this past weekend thinking about how I might want a relationship more than I thought. What did it matter? I wasn’t even sure I could fit keeping up a friendship with Megan with my schedule, much less a full-blown relationship.
Beck and Hudson made it work, but their relationships were more established, and as far as I knew, their drama at home had settled down—Hudson’s had, thank goodness.
Since I was only getting more behind schedule by the minute, I ducked inside the classroom, quickly taking my seat when the professor was already lecturing. The only desk available was in the back, too, so I hoped Megan didn’t think I was ignoring her, even if that was still probably the best course of action for not hurting her.
Maybe I should just let her go. Cut my losses and go back to being the loner at the diner who has to entertain himself with napkin dispensers between study rounds. The thought sent a sharp jab of pain through my chest, and suddenly there wasn’t enough air.
After class ended, I scooped up my books and rushed over to Megan. As she gathered her stuff, I crammed my textbook and notebook into my backpack. “I wanted to say you were right about what you said in the library. I haven’t been a very good friend this p
ast week.”
She lifted her chin, as if to say naturally she agreed.
“I’m going to do better, I swear,” I said, and more than that I meant it. “And it was unfair of me to use you to get rid of Misty.” Even though it was also two of the best minutes of my week. “Are you going to the game tonight?”
“At the Garden? I’m sure it’s going to be crazy. I mean, maybe I’d risk the crowds for Disney on Ice…” She flashed me a smile—a bit weaker than her usual ones, but the added elbow nudge gave me hope. “I’m kidding. Kind of. Actually, now I want to add going to Disney on Ice to my list of things to do.”
The lead that’d weighed down my chest since our confrontation in the library lifted—if we could joke, and she was off and rambling, maybe we weren’t totally broken. “If we can find a time that doesn’t conflict with hockey, I’m right there with you.”
“Mm-hm.” She swung her backpack and started toward the door.
I supposed I deserved her skepticism, but I’d prove it to her, because everything seemed sunnier with her around, and this last week confirmed my life sucked way more without her in it.
“I’ve got a ton of homework to get done tonight, so I don’t think I can make the Beanpot game,” she said, and I wondered if this was where she crushed my hope like a bug and gave me the brush-off. She heaved a sigh and gave me a sideways glance. “But I’ll try to be at Friday’s game.”
“I’ll look for you. And maybe we’ll meet up at the diner sometime during the middle part of the week? I haven’t been sleeping much, so I’m sure I’ll be there plenty.”
“I stopped by a few nights last week and had some breakfast for dinner and too much coffee.”
“I’m sorry I missed you,” I said. “I like when you drink too much caffeine and start rambling.”
She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes.
“It’s a compliment, I swear.” I reached out and squeezed her shoulder. “I’m glad we’re friends again.” Of course, the desire pumping through my veins as I inhaled her familiar perfume and thought about how close her body was to mine told a slightly different story.