Page 9 of Two Guys One Puck
“Real. I think I’m going to go with him for moral support.”
I lift a brow and give him a look that makes my face ache. “I bet they love you, don’t they?”
He nods with a huge grin. “They do.” Wolfe is probably their pinnacle ideal of masculinity. I’m not sure if that’s good for Archangel or not. I can’t imagine it’s fun having your family wish your best friend was their son and not you. Maybe it’s better I’m the third wheel friend.
“Does he want you to go?” I ask, glancing over at Archangel, who’s surrounded by a bunch of women.
“Sure does. He can’t go alone. He’ll kill someone or himself.” Wolfe makes a good point. “Need another beer?”
“Please.” I hold out my solo cup so he can refill it.
“I’m gonna go flirt and get Archangel riled up,” Wolfe says conspiratorially.
“Riled up? What do you have planned?” This can’t be good.
“I’m not telling!” Wolfe sing-songs while shimmying over to dance. He’s quickly surrounded by a bunch of girls, but he turns towards Archangel and mimes casting a fishing line to reel him in.
Archangel rolls his eyes but lets Wolfe lure him in. They dance together, surrounded by a pack of bunnies, but it’s clear their focus is on each other. Wolfe actually earns a smile out of Archangel.
I’m quickly on my way to black-out drunk since this is the last day we can drink like this during spring break before the Frozen Four training starts and we need to get serious. But I keepcoming back to the Snapchat message. I try to distract myself by talking to bunnies, but my mind keeps returning to fucking Snapchat.
Sometime later, Wolfe comes over, clapping his hand on my shoulder. “I have to tell you something,” he whispers.
“What?”
He’s trying not to laugh and practically wheezing. “I can’t do it here.”
Archangel is behind him, laughing just as hard.
I let them pull me away from the chick I was flirting with. When they get me into the kitchen, they break down laughing.
“What?” I ask when they don’t tell me.
“The girl you’re talking to… Does she remind you of someone?”
I close one eye, way too drunk for games. “What are you fucking talking about?”
Wolfe tries to talk, but he can’t get it out.He’s laughing so hard, he can’t breathe.
I turn to Archangel. “Well?”
He sucks in a breath, only slightly better off than Wolfe, but at least he manages to get words out. “The chick you were talking to just now. Look her at her again.”
“What, why?” I glance over.
“He doesn’t know!” Wolfe shakes like a muscular Kool-Aid man, and it’s a little frightening.
I look between them, waiting for someone to tell me.
“Look really hard,” Archangel says, holding a hand over his mouth.
I stare at the chick, but nothing comes to me. “What?”
“You promise you don’t see it?” Archangel asks.
“Just fucking tell me!”
“She looks just like that fucking asshole from the Monsters Ktytor.”
