Page 67 of Heart Check
“Noted, noted, noted. And then you…” She squints at me. “Talked until the wee hours of the morning, falling asleep in each other’s arms?”
I press my lips together and nod again.
She mutters something that sounds suspiciously likeromantic. “Interesting. In front of everyone. And he didn’t even make a move? And checked on you the next morning?”
Another nod.
“And in the next week, he stopped by the craft fair and bought— how many pieces?”
“Two,” I whisper. “Plus the ones he got his friends to buy.”
“Plusthe ones he got his friends to buy,” she echoes. “And scrubbed the negative reviews from your website? By going to bat for you to his most judgy, asshole-y teammate?”
My fists clench at the mental image of Noah’s extremely punchable face.
“And then he asked you to Skate Night… where he wanted to hold your hand in front of the whole school?”
“Twice,” I choke out. “He asked me twice.”
She squints at me. “And did you act encouraging? Perhaps even pitiable, as if him asking you to Skate Night would be the peak of your high school career, and he’d get some good karma—or some good ass—by doing so?”
“Marissa!”
She raises her eyebrows innocently. “Or did you maybe act prickly and turn him down?”
“I ran away,” I mutter.
“Mhmmm.” She scribbles a few more somethings at the bottom of the very full page of notes before looking up to face me. “Okay, Harper, I’m gonna be real. My journalistic integrity’s on the line here, and you know I don’t take that lightly. So I’m just going to say it: Everything you told me doesn’t really sound like he thinks he’s better than you. Itkindasounds like he’s head over heels for you.”
I stare into my coffee. Not sure what to say. Too hurt by the echo of Dawson’s words in my mind.
Marissa holds up her hands defensively. “All I’m saying is, if you want a hockey player, goddamnit, we’ll get you a hockey player.”
Listing all the moments I’ve shared with Dawson over the last few weeks has brought the tears closer to the surface than they’ve been in a few hours, and I’m not sure I have it in me to show up and ask to be punched in the heart again.
But looking at her fierce expression, I can’t help a tiny smile.
Maybe I do want a hockey player.
Just one particular hockey player.
And maybe it’s not too late to win him back.
23.HARPER
I wipe my sweaty palmson my jeans as I take the stairs to the new hockey arena two at a time. Marissa and I spent another hour hashing out the details of my apology, and by the time we were done, I couldn’t imagine waiting another day to do it. Who could focus on jewelry making or homework at a time like this?
I need to talk to Dawson.
My heart hammers as I mentally rehearse everything I need to tell him. Namely, that I’m so sorry for keeping him a secret from my friends. That he went above and beyond to be open and welcoming: bringing me to a party with the entire hockey team and telling them to leave me alone; wrapping me into the cozy circle of his jokes with Ryan and Alex at Skate Night; trying to find me in the halls and in precalc and at the diner.
He never gave me any reason to think he saw us differently, that he was ashamed of people seeing us together. What he said in the car hurt, but I hurt him, too, and we were both, um, pretty emotionally heightened.
If he’s willing to see me, we at least need to try to talk itout. I can’t bear knowing he might slip out of my life because I’m too proud to apologize.
The doors of the arena are decorated with posters advertising the Northview game on Friday. I recognize Sabrina’s signature glitter pen embellishing them, and an unexpected flutter of nerves butterflies around my stomach at the reminder that the biggest game of Dawson’s career so far is only a few days away.
I want him to get everything he dreams of. And I want to be by his side when he does.
