Page 16 of Don't Puck His Best Friend
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I mutter, opening the door.
“Knew you’d try to wriggle out of it,” he says cheerfully, holding up a garment bag. “So I came prepared.”
“Sirus—”
But he’s already pushing past me into the house, tossing Rex a treat from his pocket. Rex immediately decides Sirus is his new best friend.
“It’s always so clean in here,” Sirus says, looking around approvingly.
“Get out.”
“Can’t. I’m on a mission.” He heads straight for my bedroom like he’s been here a dozen times before, and I reluctantly follow. “You’re showering, you’re putting on these clothes”—he tosses a crisp button-down and pants on my bed—”and you’re coming to dinner. End of discussion.”
I stare at the shirt. “Why do I let you talk me into this crap?”
“Because deep down, you’re a good teammate,” Sirus says, rifling through my closet with the confidence of someone who clearly has no boundaries. “And because you’ll thank me later.”
“I seriously doubt that.”
“Trust me. When have I ever steered you wrong?”
I can think of at least five instances off the top of my head, but Sirus’s already moving toward the door with that satisfied expression that means he considers this a done deal.
“Shower,” he calls over his shoulder. “We leave in an hour.”
I look down at Rex, who’s watching this entire exchange with the kind of canine amusement that suggests he’s enjoying my suffering.
“Don’t look at me like that,” I tell him. “This is probably going to be brutal.”
Rex just wags his tail, which I take as agreement.
6
The Date I Didn’t Sign Up For
Harper
I’msprawledacrossmybed in my most comfortable leggings and an oversized t-shirt, mindlessly scrolling through TikTok and trying to pretend I have any interest in studying for Monday’s exam. The plan for tonight is simple: order Chinese food, read a book that just came out, and absolutely, under no circumstances, leave this room.
Then Maddie appears in my doorway like a woman on a mission, holding two dresses draped over her arm and wearing a look that means she’s about to ruin my perfectly planned evening of hermitude.
“No,” I say without looking up from my phone.
“You don’t even know what I’m about to say.”
“You’re about to say something about the double date I forgot about because I have selective memory when it comes to things I don’t want to do. And I’m about to tell you that I’m not feeling well.” I let out what I hope is a convincing cough. “See? I’m sick. Possibly dying if you google my symptoms.”
Maddie rolls her eyes so hard. “That’s the most pathetic fake cough I’ve ever heard, and I once listened to you try to convince that teacher that you had bronchitis when you just didn’t want to give your presentation.”
“That cough was very convincing.”
“That cough sounded like a fake dying walrus.”
She flops dramatically onto my bed, the dresses fanning out between us like white flags of surrender. Except I’m not surrendering. I’m staying right here in my fortress of cotton and takeout menus.
“Harper,” she says in her most reasonable voice, which immediately puts me on high alert. She grabs the bookmark from my nightstand and puts in my book, setting it aside. “This one is normal. A genuinely good person. He doesn’t live in a locker room or measure his worth by how many pucks he can hit in a row.”
“My standards aren’t that low.”
