Page 28 of Hockey Halloween
I’m about to ask what they’ll wonder about when reality crashes in.Oh.Have we been up here that long?
“Do that a lot? Bring girls to your room?” The query trips out of my mouth like water from a geyser. Do I even want the answer? No, probably not. It’s not any of my business what Xavier does with his spare time, who he hangs out with, what he does with members of the opposite sex. Whether or not in his room.
“Is the answer to that question worth your secret?” he goads.
“Nope. Forget I asked. Can we go now?”
A tiny part of me is embarrassed. The part who usually runs the show, the girl who sits in the front of the class. The girl who doesn’t hang out with hockey players in their bedrooms. The girl who definitely isn’t at all interested in learning what Xavier’s body looks like under his clothes.
Good thing she’s not running the show tonight.
Xavier
I knew there were more sides to Delia than she shows, but I wasn’t expecting her. Perhaps there is a portion of tonight’s festivities we can dedicate to doing things other than hanging out and talking.
If she’ll come back to my room after the haunted house, maybe she’ll let me take off her costume.
Harris thwarts our exit. He’s carrying the stupid pumpkin head, and I internally curse, knowing what’s coming.
“Laitmon, going somewhere without this?”
I bite my tongue, holding back my snarky comeback. My mouth got me into this mess. The least I can do is learn from it.
Ripping it from his hands, I tuck it under my arm, training my narrowed gaze at him. In case he wants to give me trouble about not wearing it, I bite out, “If I fall and hurt myself on the way to the haunted house because I can’t see, who’s going to tell Coach why I can’t play in the next few games?”
“Good point. Be safe.”
“Make sure you put it on when you get there. Micah will be on the lookout.”
I don’t give Fruin’s words a thought, instead holding up my hand above my head, my middle finger pointed to the sky.
Outside, the streetlights are the only illumination because the clouds hide the moon. With my free arm, I tuck Delia against me, enjoying the feel of her there. If anyone asks, I’d lie and say it’s to keep her warm.
“They’re taking this bet thing seriously, huh?” she muses.
“Uh, yeah.” I flex my jaw. If I want a chance for more with her, I should tell her. She’ll never consider giving me a shot at anything more than being her lab partner, maybe attending another hockey party, if she doesn’t think I’m truthful or trustworthy.
Which is a problem. Since I’m hardly either of those things.
Or I wasn’t.
I’m trying to clean up my image, head down more of a straight and narrow path. I have Coach Ferguson to thank for that.
“Tell me about hockey.”
My ears perk up at her statement, my mood immediately altering. Talking about hockey is my favorite pastime, after playing it.
I fold her tighter against me. “I’ll start at the beginning, Weidman.”
By the time we make it to the other hockey house, I’ve only gotten through about half of the highlights of my favorite sport.
“Wow,” she breathes. “I wasn’t prepared for a hockey thesis.”
“Did I hurt your big brain with too many facts?”
The girl’s smart in every subject. Even though we’ve only been in two classes together, she knows all the answers and barely ever has to study for tests and quizzes. She’s super organized, with a touch of OCD. Luck was on my side the day our professor paired us up as lab partners. I pull my weight and don’t slack off, but I defer to her about almost everything. Another kid in our class tried to argue with her about something, and she tore him down so fast, I got whiplash. It’s one reason I’m attracted to her.
“You’re always complimenting me on my smarts.”
