Page 84 of Her Goal
Hudson: Oh, that. You get used to it.
Me: Afraid not.
Hudson: So you don’t like when people call you bro? Noted.
Me: Does the guy from Boston do that too?
Hudson: Of course not. It’s a unique quirk. I think you’ll like Boston, though. He’s cool.
The three little dots blink on my phone as I think of what to say next. Wait. Does that mean Hudson is doing the same thing or is he penning an essay? He could be writing a biography on the next guy, so I know what to expect.
But I should reply because he texted last.
What should I say? I bite my lip while thinking. Why am I overthinking this?
Thanks for the lousy date. No.
I hope the next one is better. Also no.
Let’s hope you’re more superior at net minding than you are at matchmaking. Even for me, that’s harsh.
Why does Hudson lift my hackles so much? Maybe I should talk to him about it. This town isn’t big enough for so much resentment.
I start to write an email, explaining my true identity, at last. Before I press send, I put it in my drafts folder. No. I can’t reveal that I’m his secret adversary. Not yet. Not ever. Because then he’ll think that I cared about the comment he made back in high school.
But I did.
I really, really did.
What could that mean?
Did I like Hudson rather than Hunter?
No, it was that Hudson thwarted my chances with Hunter. Not that Hunter was expressing interest. I mush my head into my pillow, which smells strangely like incense. I don’t burn it. I sniff the air but don’t catch a whiff and try my pillow again.
It smells like perfumed wet ash. I tear off the pillow case and stuff my pillow in a clean T-shirt since I need to do laundry. The last time Rasmus had one of his special circles in the living room, I found a very large and sweaty bald man sitting on my favorite boy band pillowcase from home.
I washed it three times, and it still smelled like sausage so I had Mami bleach it. I frown, feeling slightly homesick even though Cobbiton is only twenty minutes away, fifteen at this time of night with no traffic. I could go there now.
Nothing is stopping me.
Not until Hudson texts me again.
Hudson: So about the homecoming dinner and dance …
Me: What about it?
Hudson: You can’t very well bring a player from another team.
Me: Obviously.
Margo has been so excited about the first annual Cobbiton Hockey HoCo, it’s all she’s been talking about. Well, and my wedding, which are only two weeks apart. Is Hudson trying to ask me to go with him? Badaszek made it clear that the newgoalie and I would attend together. My stomach does a little scrunch followed by a shimmy. What’s that all about?
Probably indigestion from the cheese balls. If Mami found out about my dinner choice, she’d set up a temporary kitchen on the roof and have the Hy-Vee air-drop bags of groceries.
Hudson: There’s a guy on the team who’d go with you.
Me: Can we be done talking about this?
