Page 20 of The Puckable Playbook

She lowers her gaze, pressing her lips together. “It’s not just him.” Rubbing the back of her neck, she sighs. “It’s all guys. They look right through me, Zaiah. Whether they friend-zone me or worse, pretend like I’m invisible, it stings. This really doesn’t have anything to do with Clark, except that he was the causation. Yesterday, that tirade of his woke me up to the idea that it’s possible I’m not putting my best foot forward.”

I sweep my stare to her face. Her desire is evident, her eyes pleading as she peers back at me.

The microwave beep pulls me out of my inspection. She leans forward on the table, running her hands over her hair until she gets to the hair claw. “I understand where you’re coming from, and it’s good advice. Puck Clark. I’m not doing this for him. I’m doing this for me. Whether it sounds vain or not, I want guys to pucking see me, you know? If they saw me, then, you know, I’d actually be…puckable to someone.”

“Puckable?”Woah, woah, woah.My brain goes on high alert. “There’s nothing wrong with your puckability.”

“Oh, so you want to puck me?”

“No.” I take a step back, and her face falls.Shit.“I didn’t— I definitely didn’t mean it like that.”

She stands from the table, and I stride right up to her. Bracing her hands on my forearms, she forcibly removes me from her space. “It’s okay. I understand what you meant, which is why I asked for your insight.”

I fold my arms over my chest. Len won’t even look at me now. This whole thing has turned into a mess. “Didn’t you say research could save the world? What if you—”

“I’ve Googled it. I’ve read the magazine articles about how to get the guy, and though I understand it intellectually, it’s hard for me to put it into action. You think this is the first time I’ve thought about this? It’s not. I was a ghost even before ghosting became cool.”

“That’s—” She shoots me a look, and I clear my throat. “Not the same thing. But you know that,” I state quickly as I turn my back to pour the hot water into my oatmeal.

“I was using it as a clever dating analogy.” She fixes her glasses to her face again.

A million thoughts run through my head. Mainly, that this is all going to backfire and I’ll end up being the bad guy. The one who should’ve known better. “Listen, in this situation, I would want someone to tell my sister that she’s perfect the way she is. And you are, Len. You’re perfect the way you are.”

She smiles tightly. “Fine. I get it. I’m perfect.” She rolls her eyes. “But I want to be puckable.”

I should’ve never let thepuckthing slip. This is a disaster, but what can I do? I promised her yesterday that I’d help, and if I don’t, she’ll probably ask someone else. It’s embarrassing enough for her that she asked me.

My shoulders slump. “Fine, but I want it in writing that I thought this was a bad idea.”

Her hands freak out for a second and then she focuses on me again, her lips turning up into a smile. “But you’re still going to give it your all, right? I need you at the top of your game. When I’m researching an article, I write down notes and have questions to follow up on. You can do all that, right?”

“Please. I’ll be the best damn dating coach you’ve ever had. In hockey, we have something called a playbook.”

Her eyes widen, breath catching at the same time. “The puckable playbook. That’s some nice alliteration right there.”

I chuckle. Only she would be excited about a choice phrase. “There’s something wrong with you,” I mutter before turning to the counter to stir my oatmeal.

“Is that lesson one? Should I dumb myself down?”

“Fuck no.” I turn on her. “I swear to God, Len… Len…” I snap my fingers. “Your last name escapes me at the momentagain, but if you dumb yourself down, the deal is off. Smart is sexy.”

Her cheeks flush, and she casts her eyes downward. “Thanks. I really didn’t want to act like the girls inClueless.”

I spoon some oatmeal into my mouth while I think about our next steps. This is still so tricky. I could step in it at any moment. “I also want it in the contract that you can’t get mad at me for things I suggest. We’ll probably tread into water that might hurt your feelings.”

“Like my appearance.”

“You’re perfect the way you are.”

“I know what I’m getting into,” she states. “You don’t have to sugarcoat anything. I’m asking you to change me. Yes, I’ll put it in thecontract.” She uses air quotes when she says the word.

It would be nice if something I threw out there changed her mind, but she’s determined. I check my watch as I shovel another spoonful into my mouth and swallow. “Listen, myparents are coming in today with their RV. It’s this thing they do before game days. If you want to meet them, I’m sure they’d love to meet you.”

“I met them once.”

“Oh.”Why don’t I remember that?It’s like she said, she’s invisible. Or forgettable. I don’t know. Yesterday, I thought she didn’t even like guys. The awkward creep of embarrassment heats my cheeks. “That’s right. I’m sure they’ll want to see you again.”

She rolls her eyes at my pathetic attempt to cover up my mistake. “On one condition: don’t remind them I’m Trish’s ex-roommate.”

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