Page 63 of O Goalie Night
“Quietly,” she agrees as she closes the distance between us, her mouth meeting mine.
I pull away, resting my forehead against hers.“You’ll have to be quieter than you were last night or everyone’s going to know.”
She blushes, but says “I don’t remember it quite that way. Maybe my amnesia’s back?”
“If that’s your way of asking me to refresh your memory, I accept.”
CHAPTER 25
BETH
“Beth! I was just talking about you!” Meredith, a teacher who didn’t know my name until last week, catches up to me in the hall.
I bet you were.
Any doubts I had on whether Jacob was going to tell people about Foster evaporated when I walked into school Monday morning. Heads swivelled in my direction. Some people waved excitedly like I was a celebrity or public figure, while others just stared.
I located Tamara as quickly as I could and asked for a damage report. She informed me that Jacob had told several of my coworkers that he dropped me off at Foster James’s house after the party on Friday night. One of them must have remembered that I mentioned I was staying with my brother’s friend, and a quick Google search confirmed that the Otters’ best defenseman did indeed have a sister named Beth.
It’s now Wednesday and I haven’t been able to leave the safety of my classroom without being sought out bysomeone with questions about hockey, Ben, or, worst of all, Foster.
“I still can’t believe your brother plays for the Otters,” she says again, giving my arm a light slap like we were the oldest of friends. I was only introduced to her at the Christmas party where she gave me a courtesy smile,then left to find someone better to talk to.
Meredith is perhaps my least favourite kind of hanger-on. She reminds me of the popular girls in highschool who used to ask me to introduce them to Ben, like he wasn’t a grown man with better things to do than rebuke the advances of teenage girls.
It appears she’s tired of beating around the bush, jumping right in with “I would love to meet your brother sometime. I’ve been a huge Otters fan my entire life.”
The team was only established sixteen years ago, I think. I would bet my meagre life savings that she is more a fan of the players than the game itself.
“Gosh,” I say, trying to hide my annoyance. “I’d love to, but he’s pretty busy with the team and his girlfriend.”
Her face falls and I decide to put a final nail in the coffin. “She’s a supermodel.”
Momentarily crestfallen, she quickly rallies to try another angle. “Maybe we could go to a game sometime? You probably get the VIP treatment. Do you get to go backstage?”
I’m fairly certain at this point of the conversation that Meredith has never been to a hockey game.
Thankfully, the bell rings, saving me from responding.
I say goodbye and beeline to my classroom before my students make it inside from recess. Tamara stands in thedoorway eating an apple and smirking as she watches Meredith walk away.
“Look at you, becoming best friends with the cool girls.”
I snort. “Hardly. Just another person who wants to rub elbows with my brother.”
“Knowing Meredith, it’s something else altogether she wants to rub with him.”
“Please, not you, too,” I beg.
“No,” she laughs. “Your brother is not my type. He’s too pretty. Now, that Norwegian forward with the crooked nose that’s missing half his teeth? That’s a face I’d like to sit on.”
We’re cackling as the kids come back in, rosy-cheeked from the cold and hair sweaty and matted under their toques.
Amelia waves at me on her way to her desk near the back of my classroom. Unlike the adults who work here, she hasn’t told anyone about seeing me with Foster on the weekend. Instead, she’s been giving me conspiratorial little smiles, almost like we’re sharing a secret.
I’ve never been great with secrets. My sister can tell by the pitch of my voice or the number of times I blink if I’m hiding something.
But Foster and I aren’t a secret. The word secret implies that we’re doing something wrong, and that’s not how I feel at all.
