Page 7 of Ice Darling
There’s another beat of suffocating silence.
The tension between mother and daughter is thick enough to deflect a puck shot, and I realize that I might have misinterpreted Cordelia’s actions earlier. There could have been a more serious reason for her grabbing me than I initially assumed.
Feeling restless and guilty, I search the table for the drinks menu and find it tucked beneath one of the complimentary beer trays.
“Here,” I say, offering it to the mechanic. “If you’re not feeling beer, they have coffees, tea, and soda.”
Her lips purse in anger, her nostrils flare. “Thanks, but I’m fine,” she says tensely.
The drinks menu in my hand flops down like a balloon losing air.
And…now I look like an idiot.
I lower my arm and tuck the menu back in the napkin dispenser. When on earth are my nuggets coming out? I need to get out of here.
“Max, what do you recommend? I can’t decide between these two.” Cordelia tucks her head toward our team manager.
They look awful cozy over there.
“It depends. How buzzed can you get tonight?” he jokes.
Her eyes sparkle. “I’m not much of a drinker, but I’m ready to learn if you’ll teach me.”
I snort.
What kind of banter is this?
It’s nauseating.
And obvious.
But I, for one, amgladshe found a new fake boyfriend. Kudos to her. May she and Max have a fake life of fake happiness.
Why are you so ticked off? You rejected her first.
I know.
I must be tired. It’s been a long day, and I’m out here waiting for chicken nuggets instead of being back home unwinding after our win.
“That sounds delicious. I think I’ll go with that.” Cordelia smiles at our team manager, and I almost fall out of my seat.
She knows how to smile?
The sight of her pretty lips stretching up catches me off guard. It’s too soft. Too delicate. A smile that sweet is almost out of place in that tough-as-nails package of hers.
Great. Now my heart is beating fast. Out of annoyance, of course. Because why am I still here watching this? Where are my dang chicken nuggets?
I know I should have held it together when Gordie pulled the puppy-dog-eyes-pushed-out-bottom-lip combo while asking for chicken nuggets at this hour. She’s getting her way far too often lately, and I’m going to lose all parental authority by the time she’s a teenager.
“Let me order for you,” Max says, lifting an arm to get Mauve’s attention.
“That’s so sweet. Thank you,” Cordelia coos.
My eyes find hers, eyebrow arched in challenge.Got claws in your new victim, I see.
The set in her jaw would be evident from a spacecraft. She narrows her eyes and flips her hair in an unspoken instruction to find the nearest bridge and do my best Olympic diving routine off of it.
“Renthrow, here’s your chicken nuggets, and you tell my precious little girl not to overeat this late at night,” Mauve says, prancing over to the table with my food.
