Page 42 of Crazy Pucking Love
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’lltryto 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.
“We’ll see,” she said, her tone challenging, but I could see the cautious hope flicker through her big blue eyes.
And I told myself that no matter what—despite classes and games and the never-ending drama at home—I’d show her I meant it.
Chapter Twenty-One
Megan
“Where are you going looking like that?”
I spun to face Vanessa, a guilty look on my face no doubt. “I’m going to the hockey game.”
Vanessa closed the door to our dorm. “You can’t go to that game, especially in that get up.”
On one hand, I could tell she thought the flirty blue and maroon dress and boots combo was hot, but on the other, there was an accusation in there. “Since when is it a crime to look your best? And besides, my brother is on the hockey team, and I’m meeting his girlfriend there.”
“Oh, so you didn’t put on that outfit with Dane in mind?”
Maybe the boots, since I knew he liked them, but I wasn’t going to admit that to her. I reached for my brown cuff and then added a couple of long beaded necklaces. When I spun around, Vanessa had her arms crossed, making it clear she would wait for an answer until I gave her one. “It’s Friday, and I want to look good for wherever my night takes me. Whether it’s just the hockey game or not.”
“Fine. Then I’m going with you to save you from yourself, and afterward, we’re going to the Quad. Otherwise Dane’ll just think he can keep you on the back burner at all times. And you and I arenotback burner girls.”
“But remember how Dane’s my friend?” I’d pretty much challenged him to prove it, and on Wednesday night he’d called me “just to talk,” and we had for a good hour, about nothing and everything. He sent me check-in texts throughout the week and sat by me in class—I’d been tempted to go to the diner last night to meet him, but Vanessa and I had already made plans, and I was doing the whole chicks-before-dicks thing.
My roommate didn’t stay up nearly as late as I did—and the girl slept like a rock—but we’d spent hours chatting and getting to know each other, often talking until the sandman came for her. Which only left me with a few bored hours to fill, and I used them to read my new comic books in an attempt to keep my resolve strong.
But admittedly:Me - spending those long, sleepless hours with Dane = missing him a whole heckuva lot
“It’s okay to go to a game and support my friend,” I added, wishing it came out stronger sounding.
“Sure,” Vanessa said. “But we don’t waste weekends and outfits likethat”—she gestured at me, making a long oval that encompassed my dress and boots—“on friends. We go have ourselves a little adventure.” She moved to her dresser and grabbed a tube of lipstick. “And if the adventure includes snagging us a couple of guys, even better.”
“Is this because of Justin’s call last night?” After weeks of nothing, the jerk had called crazy late, asking Vanessa what she was up to. She’d said,Not you,and hung up. “If you’re looking to get under a guy to get over him, or whatever, I’ll totally be your wingwoman. But I don’t really need a guy of my own.”
“Pfft.I’m so over Justin.” The lid of her lipstick went on with a snap, punctuating her statement, as did her blood red lips. On her it worked; on me I would’ve looked like I was going to either work a street corner or dress up like a vampire. “Last semester this guy kept me on the back burner, always doing just enough to leave me hoping and waiting. In fact, he was why I jumped into Justin’s arms one night. I’d finally had enough and I went for the first guy who paid attention to me. From now on, I’m going to be the one in charge instead of settling for hoping and waiting.I’mmaking things happen.”
Hoping and waiting. A small part of me—maybe even a big part of me—was still doing that with Dane. Since he said that thing about hockey season, too, I couldn’t help hoping that after it ended, he and I could pick up where we’d left off the first night we met.
But that was over two months away—with how great they were playing, I had no doubt they’d make it to the Frozen Four tournament—and that was a long time to wait on a maybe.
“Remember what we talked about the other night?” Vanessa asked. “About how you were thinking about changing your expectations?”
