Page 20 of Frenemies with a Player
“Oh,” Mom smiles.
“Did you know that Willa wants to go to Harvard?” Mom says, and I don’t know who the comment is directed at.
“That’s lovely,” Wyatt’s mom answers. “Our Wyatt is in the U.S. now. He attends Westfall. It’s an Ivy League school.”
“Isn’t he a hockey player?” Mom asks.
I don’t know where she is going with this, but I feel my irritation growing.
“I applied to Harvard,” Houston cuts in.
“You did?” I ask him.
“Yeah, for my MBA,” he explains.
“We are so proud of Houston. He’s doing so well,” Mrs. Montgomery adds. “What are your plans for next year, Wyatt?”
My stomach sinks, knowing Wyatt doesn’t like this subject very much. This conversation has also somehow turned into a pissing contest between my parents and Mrs. Montgomery against Mrs. James.
“Wyatt is a top goalie in the NCAA, did you know that?” I ask the group.
“What is the NCAA?” Mom asks.
“It’s the college level of sports. Wyatt’s team is in Division 1, which is the highest level you can play at. Players from those teams end up in the NBA and NHL,” I explain.
Wyatt gives me a strange look.
“That’s impressive,” Mom says, and just like that the conversation is diverted.
When I say I need a drink, Wyatt excuses himself too and follows me. He comes up behind me when we are at the bar.
“When did you look up NCAA college hockey?” he asks.
“When I realized how interested I am in you. I really just wanted to understand what it is you do. I’m not really a sports person.”
“Well, thanks for diverting their questions. I do appreciate it.” He grins.
We both take a glass of red wine from the bar.
“My pleasure.” I smile, and I clink my glass with his.
Houston walks over to us, and I freeze. “Is there something going on between you two?”
I look at Wyatt and he looks back at me. Then he wraps his arm around my shoulder. “She’s my girlfriend. Sorry I didn’t mention it earlier.”
“Wyatt?” I ask, looking at him. He returns my gaze with a pleading glare.
“We are together,” I confirm to Houston.
“That’s too bad. I was hoping we had a chance, especially if we are both going to be at Harvard next year.” He grins, and I get the feeling he is trying to piss off Wyatt.
“Harvard is my first choice, but not my only choice. I’ve applied to other schools too,” I say.Down boy.
“Well, I will leave you two lovebirds to it,” Houston says, and he turns and walks away.
I turn and give Wyatt a questioning look.
“What was that about?” I ask him.
