Page 56 of Crazy Pucking Love
“Steal away,” Lyla said. “I’m all gamed out.”
We moved over to an old school Street Fighter game. This place was such a mix of modern and vintage, and I loved it—it would basically be me if I were a restaurant. Of course it also meant I’d have to figure out the joystick and buttons, since Beckett and I used to play on his PlayStation.
“Are you sure you can handle this?” my brother asked. “Things could get ugly.”
“You mean we might reignite the sibling rivalry of ’05?” For some reason that was the year we went from playing for fun to playing to win at all costs, and a game of Sorry turned ugly. For such an apologetic title, it certainly made us mad. Mom had banned us from board games for a month.
That hollow spot in my heart that opened up whenever I thought about my parents made an appearance, sending swirls of sorrow and fondness through me.
Beckett leaned his palm against the edge of the brightly colored machine in front of us. “I was more thinking of the one that happened because of this very game.”
“Oh. That.” After I’d kicked his ass as Chun Li, we’d exchanged barbs over whether men or women were better fighters, and he said that video games were the only place females could keep up. So I punched him.
Funny how those memories made me miss my brother, even with him standing a few feet from me. “Good thing we’re more mature now.”
“Sure. Let’s go with that.” Beckett fed quarters into the machine and we played two games. Since we each won one, we decided to call it a tie and keep up the friendly feelings.
“Mom would be so proud of us going out on a tie,” I said.
A crooked grin spread across Beckett’s face. “She would. After she got over the shock that we could play without fighting.”
“I think what was most awesome about our blow-up over Street Fighter is that after we had to do the big forced apologies in front of Mom, you took me outside and showed me how to throw a better punch, with my weight behind it.”
“Well, I couldn’t have you punching like a girl.”
I shot him a daggered glare and he laughed and nudged me with his elbow. “Just kidding. So, we haven’t had much time to talk the last few weeks. How’s everything going? Classes? Where you live? Friends?”
“Really good, actually. Vanessa and I are growing closer everyday, and my classes are plenty challenging but I’m managing. You know, I thought I’d be more into electrical engineering—it’s showier and has the fun projects—but if I go biomedical I would be more of an asset to D&T Pharmaceuticals, which is cool because it helps me feel connected to Dad.”
“He’d like that.”
“Yeah, and I’d rather do something like that than office-type work.”
“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.”
“Highlyunlikely.”
“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.”
