Page 19 of Switching Skates
Maeve: If you insist on crashing the party tonight, don’t be a cockblock. Got it? Or I’ll have security throw you out.
Me: What do you mean? I am your security. And please never text the word cock to your brother ever again. I’m going to puke.
Maeve: I don’t think you should come tonight. It’s a bad idea. Especially with whatever the hell is going on with you and Daphne. Stop bothering her. It’s only making things worse.
My heart sinks.
Me: Bothering is a strong word when we casually keep running into each other.
Maeve: Just be on your best behavior, please.
Me: Scout’s honor.
Maeve: You were never a Scout.
Me: It’s the thought that counts.
The party tonight should be … interesting. I’m hoping that almost no one shows up, but I doubt that our team was the only group from the school invited.
I’m tempted to try to sabotage it so we can avoid the inevitable. Someone hitting on my sister or Daphne—or, God forbid, getting handsy with them. And then, of course, I’m going to step in and probably end up in handcuffs because I can’t think clearly when it comes to them.
Ugh, this is such a bad idea, but there’s no way in hell I’m staying home.
“Shoot it at my face one more time, Brock!” I yell at his smiling self as he skates away from me.
“It’s such a big target; I can’t help it!” he calls back.
Standing up as they skate across to the other side of the rink, my team in possession of the puck, I get a quick drink from my bottle, squirting it through my mask and into my mouth. A few drops roll down my face and neck, leaving a nice cool trail.
Oh crap.
Dropping my bottle onto the net, I ready myself as the other team steals the puck and flies down the ice toward me, two-on-one.
Chet, playing for my opponent, passes the puck to Ryan Gaunce, one of the Mammoths’ forwards. He’s one hell of a scorer.
I whisper-sing to myself as he approaches, getting into my zone. “You aren’t going to make that. You suck. You suck. You suck.” He shoots it wide, and I laugh. “Knew it.”
He, in fact, doesn’t suck but I’m thankful for his mistake anyway. One less shot I need to block.
There is nowhere in the world I would rather be than at this party. But at the same time, it’s going to be absolutely no fun for me, playing unwanted babysitter for Daphne and my sister.
Pulling into the driveway with Ross and Chet squeezed into my pickup is an image worth remembering. We look like sardines squished together in my single-cab truck.
“Wait, this place is sick,” Ross mutters, and I have to admit, he’s right.
It’s two stories, wood built, with big glass windows on the front, tapering up to the apex of the roof. I can’t imagine what it’s like inside with all of the sunlight during the day.
Although, knowing Daphne, I bet she always has the curtains drawn like a little vampire. She’s always said her spirit animal is Howie fromBenchwarmers, which I find absolutely hilarious.
Twinkle lights hang above the porch that wraps around the entire front and side of the cabin, and it looks like it goes around back too.
I park my truck behind Daphne’s Jeep, knowing damn well I’m intentionally doing it so she can’t drive anywhere tonight without consulting me.
There’s already a ton of bodies moving inside that I spot through a couple of windows, and my anxiety and protectiveness spike my adrenaline.
We’re getting here two hours later than I wanted, thanks to Chet.
“All right, listen.” I turn to the guys, and both of them are already fighting back smiles. “Stop it.” I pause, giving them asecond to get it together, but it only makes it worse. “Don’t flirt with Daphne or my sister. Make sure no one fucks with them. And anyone that gets too handsy is leaving. I don’t care who they are. Got it?”
