Crazy Pucking Love (Taking Shots)

by Cindi Madsen

  “As someone not cut out for life behind a desk, I totally understand. Either way you go, he’d be proud.”

  Beckett and I rarely talked about Mom and Dad, but we should more. It stung less than it used to—especially with him next to me—and I was glad we could focus on some of the good now. Another point for being away from the rumor mill back home.

  “What about the sleeping thing?”

  He had to go and ask about that. I thought if I didn’t mention it, he would forget my confession over summer that I rarely slept. I shrugged. “The insomnia comes and goes. It’s a lot better here than it was living with Aunt Tessa, though.” Mostly thanks to a certain guy giving me happier ways to fill the time instead of spending the sleepless hours feeling trapped, but I wasn’t going to go into that.

  “Glad to hear it.” He reached up and curled his hand around the brim of his hat—something he often did before giving me bad news—and I steeled myself for whatever bomb he was about to drop. “I can’t help but notice you and Kowalski seem really friendly.”

  My heart rate accelerated, and I forced air in and out of my lungs. “Friends usually are friendly.”

  “I know you think that I never want you to date, and admittedly, that’d save me a lot of stress and worry, but I know it’s also unlikely.”

  “Highly unlikely.”

  “Thanks for that.” He sighed. “Don’t get me wrong, Dane’s my friend, and he’s a hell of a hockey player, but he’s a lot older than you…”

  If I argued only by three little years, Beckett would know I liked Dane as more than a friend, and then we’d end up in a fight. If Dane was willing to be my boyfriend, it might be worth hashing it out. For temporary fun, probably not so much.

  “…and I don’t want you to get hurt,” Beck continued. “This is supposed to be a fresh start—I don’t want you to leave one toxic situation to hop into another.”

  “Toxic situation? That’s a little extreme, don’t you think?”

  “I think you’re better off with someone less…experienced. Like, maybe a nice freshman monk.”

  “Ha-ha.”

  Beckett leaned against one of the videogame machines, arms crossed, his expression deadly serious now. “I’m around these guys, Megan. I hear them talking about girls, and I see them with girls—a lot of girls. They’re not long-term type guys. Dane is not a long-term guy.”

  “Neither were you until you met Lyla.” I held up my hand before he could jump all over me for bringing that into the argument. “Not that you have to worry about me going for a hockey player. More than anything, I want you to know I can take care of myself. Being here has been really good for me. A year ago I hit a low, and it’s taken a while to get back on my feet, but I’ve learned how to cope, and I’m stronger than I used to be. I’m good, I promise.”

  Beckett pressed his lips together. “Okay. But know that I’m here if you need me.”

  “I appreciate that.”

  As we walked toward the rest of the group, he added, “And if you start dating some jackass, I’ll also be there to threaten him, whether you want me to or not.”

  I rolled my eyes, exaggerating the gesture so he understood how annoying he was when it came to my dating life, while hoping he never found out what—or who—it involved right now.

  …

  Dane: I have to cancel tomorrow.

  I stared at the text and told myself to be cool, even as disappointment filled me. After all, I’d seen him mere hours ago, something I hadn’t even planned on. But we only snuck in a few too-brief kisses, and I was looking forward to studying at the diner and then hitting the town. The Skywalk Observatory was next on my list of Boston hot spots. Since Dane and I were usually awake while the rest of the world slept, I thought we could stand above the city, point out the lights, and guess whether they were automatic, or if the people in that building were awake, too.

  Good thing I didn’t over-romanticize everything or anything.

  I really hope he’s not cancelling because we spent time together tonight and he worries I’ll get clingy if he sees me too much.

  Even if I’m also worried that’ll happen. I’d take that secret to the grave, though. I placed my phone on my nightstand, lay back down in my bed, and closed my eyes. Within a minute, they popped open again. No use pretending I could sleep now. I grabbed my phone and double-checked it was on silent mode for Vanessa’s sake, even though she slept through much noisier things than the click, click of my phone’s keyboard.

  Me: Is everything okay?

  Dane: Yeah. Something else just came up. Sorry.

  Two seconds later…

  Dane: Rain check on the studying & Boston adventure?

  Me: Of course. LMK if you need anything, even if it’s just to talk.

  I hoped for another text, but I supposed that qualified as a complete conversation. Especially if you were only having casual fun with the girl on the other end.

  No thinking like that.

  My stupid list caught my eye when I looked up, though. In the dim light, I couldn’t actually read it, but I’d memorized it, and even though I’d changed number five, the new version wasn’t what rose to mind.

  Dane likes me for me.

  Not enough that he wants to tell me what’s going on, or to make me his girlfriend, but that’s the no-pressure agreement we made so I could at least have a part of him.

  Besides, his life is busy.

  Just like every other person in college.

  “Grr.” I flopped back on my bed.

  My phone vibrated in my hand and I whipped it up.

  Dane: The truth is, things aren’t really okay. Everything’s a mess, and I need to take care of some stuff. It’s a long story, and I don’t have the time or energy to get into it. Just know that I’d rather be with you.

  My emotions gave another whiplash-inducing tug, but at least they were back to the happy, optimistic side.

  Me: Until then, here’s a few kisses. XXXX

  Dane: Thanks, I needed that. xo, beautiful.

  Whatever Dane and I were doing definitely made my life more complicated, but I’d never felt like this before. No guy had ever made me feel as adventurous or as beautiful as Dane had, either.

  As far as I was concerned, the best math problems were complicated. That didn’t mean there wasn’t a way to solve them. Just that you needed to put in the time to get the right answer. An awesome rush came along with the sense of accomplishment once you found it, too.

  So I’d take complicated and hope that in time, I would find the right formula to keep our friends-with-benefits situation from a crash-and-burn ending.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Dane

  My eyes had that gritty, burning sensation that came with not sleeping. You’d think I could’ve caught a couple of hours on the all-night bus ride to New York, but nope. No doubt grouchiness radiated off me as I stumbled into the station, and I was strung so tight I almost wanted someone to start shit so I could blow off some steam.

  Ironically, I chose public transportation because it had been past one a.m. by the time I decided to make the trip home, and after hardly sleeping for days, I worried I might fall asleep at the wheel. I lifted my phone, looking at Megan’s last text again, and I felt a little less like doing something that’d land me in prison.

  If I aimed for jail, at least my sister and I could share a cell. I exhaled, half frustration, half air. By now Lissa should be home.

  I bet it’s a war zone there right now.

  Too exhausted to deal with the subway, I hailed a taxi and rattled off my address.

  After my last trip home ended up rubbing my face in how badly I’d failed Jazmine—and how even if I accomplished my goal of being a better person there were things I couldn’t undo—I practically fled back to Boston. I was in no hurry to return to the Bronx, and I definitely didn’t want it to be under these circumstances.

  My eyelids had just drifted closed when the car lurched to a stop and the driver ga
ve me the total.

  I paid him, grabbed my duffel bag, and walked up the cracked sidewalk. The rickety screen door punctuated my entrance as it banged closed, and six faces turned toward me.

  Then everyone started talking at once.

  My two younger sisters were sent upstairs—even though they’d hear the arguing through the thin walls—and then the shouting and crying escalated to epic proportions, with Lissa blaming everyone but herself for her mistake. Shocking side note: No one understood her.

  Also, apparently we were all overreacting and everyone partied a little in high school, so it wasn’t a big deal.

  Twenty headache-inducing, make-me-wish-for-deafness minutes later, Mom and I were the only people left seated in the living room.

  “I don’t know what to do,” Mom said, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue that’d seen better days.

  After the circus was downgraded to more of an overrun zoo, Dad made everyone but Lissa climb in the van so he could take them to school. Currently my delinquent little sister was showering off “the stench of the jail cell.”

  I couldn’t believe how confrontational she was—she’d always been on the dramatic side, but I’d never seen her lash out before—and I could see why Cassidy was so worried. If I hadn’t been preoccupied with other shit, I would’ve sensed something was up with her over Christmas.

  That’s what I did, though. I was the guy who didn’t show up when people needed me. I was trying to amend that now, despite the fact that I really didn’t have time for this impromptu trip.

  Mom was clearly overwhelmed, and at a total loss on what to do. Dad and Cassidy, too. The other two girls seemed to be in survival mode, and when Allie and Maddie gave me quick hello-and-good-bye hugs on their way out, they both had way too much worry swimming in their red-rimmed eyes.

  Didn’t Lissa see what she was doing to our family?

  Probably not, because she wasn’t thinking straight. She was thinking about herself and only that.

  And I had two whole days to convince her to make a change. No pressure or anything.

  …

  I abandoned cleaning the messy kitchen and answered the knock at the door.

  When I saw Jazmine on the porch, every muscle in my body sagged, like they’d take off to avoid being around for what came next if they could. My tiredness level reached the double vision stage, and the two images of my ex drifted apart before swimming together.

  “Can we talk?” she asked.

  I scrubbed a hand over my face. “You can. I’m not sure how much talking I’ve got left in me.”

  She sat on the top step of the porch and patted the spot next to her, the way she’d done hundreds of times through the years. The screen door closed with a screech as I lowered myself onto the hard step. Back in the day, we used to fit with room to spare, but now I took up more than my fair share, meaning only an inch or so separated us.

  Physically, anyway. When it came to everything else, an entire ocean separated us, all of our past somewhere at the bottom like a sunken ship that’d been plundered of everything good.

  For a moment, we just stared across the street at the rundown, squished-together townhouses that mirrored the ones on this side. In the distance, the brick apartments Hudson used to call home jutted into the skyline, the rusted fire escape crisscrossing the building, and just beyond that was the Williamsburg Bridge.

  The silence stretched, and I was too damn tired to be the one who attempted to fill it, so instead I let my eyes drift farther away. I could barely make out the green sign of the bodega that didn’t have any shoe or clothing treasures behind a Snapple machine. Just the grocery basics, along with the other basics around here—cigarettes and alcohol. There were newspapers, too, but I wasn’t sure who ever bought them. Reading about the rest of the world when I’d been stuck here only made me feel trapped or like the whole world was going to shit.

  Luckily I’d had hockey to keep me occupied, and right now I wished for skates, my stick, and a street game to jump into.

  I squinted at the green sign, wishing it was the bodega in Boston, and that I was on my way inside with Megan, even if the price tags on the clothes made me want to run. At least I could make a joke, or she could jab me in the eye with a hanger.

  That girl is determined to leave me maimed, I’m sure of it. Megan’s smiling face flickered through my mind, easing some of the weight pressing down on me.

  The sniff caught my attention, and I glanced at Jazmine. A tear rolled down her cheek, and despite everything that’d happened between us, it made my chest ache. She didn’t look as rough as she had over Christmas, at least, but she was unnaturally skinny, and her eyes were bloodshot, the dark circles under them pronounced—and that was coming from someone who constantly had those symptoms thanks to lack of sleep.

  “Things just fell apart after you left,” she said. “Your sister says the same thing—it’s why we started hanging out in the first place. Because we both missed you.”

  I ran a hand through my hair and when it fell back over my eyes, I wished for my hat to hold it back. Then again, maybe it was better to have something to hide behind. “I don’t know how to respond to that. I’ve said I was sorry a hundred times, and I am, Jaz. I’m sorry.”

  “I believe you. But it doesn’t change anything. I got left behind. I still have to live here. Your sisters, your family—they still have to make it through the day to day while you’re off having fun at college.”

  I kicked at the peeling paint on the next step down. “It’s not all fun and games. I’m working my ass off to try to keep up. Don’t get me wrong, I feel damn lucky that I’ve been given such a big opportunity, but I’m also sure I’m going to screw it up somehow and end up back here.”

  “And that would be the worst thing ever, wouldn’t it?”

  “It’s definitely not what I want. I’m trying to make it so my parents don’t have to work two jobs each. So that we can all have a better life. But no, ending up back here wouldn’t be the worst thing ever, and I’d find a way to get through it without being wasted or high all the time.”

  She flinched and then fire lit her eyes. “You can be such a judgmental asshole, you know that?”

  “Yeah. I do. You’ve told me enough times.”

  She reached up, pulled one of her curls straight, and then wrapped it around her finger—she’d done that since I met her, and at one time, I used to lie next to her and test out the springiness of each curl.

  But that was a lifetime ago. It wasn’t like back then it’d all been sunshine and rainbows. Adding romance made us volatile, and part of me worried the same thing would happen if Megan and I kept on doing whatever we were doing. But I told myself that she was different from Jazmine in every way.

  Then guilt rose up, because Jaz might’ve always been a little bit broken, but I was the one who’d wrecked her. First when I left, and then when I failed to keep the promises I made—I’d been so naive, thinking our shared history, our love, would fix everything else, from our issues to our tempers to having a couple of states between us.

  “How’d we get here?” she asked, the breeze carrying her words away with a swirl of dried leaves.

  “I didn’t come home when your mom died,” I said, the words thick in my throat before they made their way out. “There are a lot of times I think if I had to do it again, I would risk being benched for the rest of the season. But then I think about my family, about what I need to do to make it, and I’m not sure I’d be telling the truth if I said I would jump on the first flight home.”

  I twisted and looked her in the eye. “But I will say that I would’ve done a better job of being there for you. I would’ve worked harder to convince you to hang out with a better group of friends. I’d have…I don’t know. Found a way to get you to Boston with me. But we made our decisions, and I can’t change the past, or all of our fights.” Or the road that either of us went down afterward.

  I covered her hand with mine. “Jaz, if you need help…th
ere are programs.”

  She yanked her hand away, offense pinching her features. “I’m not a junkie, Dane. Once in a while I just take the edge off—I’m in control of it.”

  “And Lissa? You gonna jump in if she gets close to the line? Because I’m afraid everyone thinks they’re in control until they’re suddenly not.” I certainly thought I’d been in control my sophomore year. Then everything fell apart, and it took me almost a year to realize how far off the path I’d drifted. Even with my plan in place I was floundering through my classes, and everything that’d happened with Megan proved my self-control was far from ironclad.

  “I shouldn’t have blown up when you called and asked me to help with Lissa,” Jazmine said, and my jaw nearly hit the ground. In all of our time together, I think I received one half-hearted apology. I was always the wrong one; the one she demanded an apology from.

  I gave them, too, to try to keep her happy. To be the so-called knight in shining armor she needed. Even when I helped her home after finding her nearly passed out at that party she’d told me she didn’t need me, so why didn’t I just do everyone a favor and go back to Boston?

  “I’m sorry for the party over Christmas, too.”

  I eyed her, wondering if she read minds. Or I might’ve accidentally mumbled—I did that sometimes, mostly during hockey, but maybe I was too tired to keep my inside thoughts inside.

  She laughed, and the sound was so foreign yet familiar that I couldn’t help staring in shock. “Don’t look so surprised. It’s possible you’re not the only one who can be a judgmental asshole. I know I’m a bit of a mess—but a hot mess.”

  I could agree with that, but for some reason verbally agreeing seemed like betraying Megan, even though we weren’t in an official relationship. My thoughts were getting all jumbled, and the nostalgia and…seriously, if I didn’t sleep soon, I’d simply flop over on the step, and maybe enough passersby would think I was a bum that they’d throw change my way.

  “I’m sorry about Lissa,” Jaz said, her voice much quieter. “I thought I could keep her safer than that.”

  Worry rose up and tightened my gut. “Safer than…? Has she passed out at parties? Are there guys I need to hunt down and kill?”