Page 9 of A Little Complicated

One. After. Another.

Dylan and Finley will move in with me soon. But, I was recruited to play for the new girls’ hockey team this year, so I was asked to come early to train with the rest of my teammates to prepare for the new season.

It’s crazy. How LAU is kicking off an all-girl hockey team. Then again, I guess it makes sense, considering the men’s team’s fanbase. Who knows? Maybe the concept will even spread.

It’s a well-known fact that girls’ sports are rarely taken as seriously as men’s. Things are slowly changing, though. My parents have been nothing but supportive since I was a little girl and chose to play hockey with the rest of the boys despite the odds stacked against me in terms of it becoming a career.

That being said, I’m not completely delusional. The odds of making a living playing hockey professionally are slim to none, which means I need to pick a major at some point. But that’s a problem for future Ophelia. And I have no issue passing the puck to her and enjoying today’s moments while I have them.

Like right now. In the middle of a family room right down the hall from a bedroom I get to call home for the next four years. I could leap for joy right here, right now.

“Look at the bright side,” my mom offers. “At least there’s a wall separating the girls from the boys.”

“Like that makes it any better,” my dad mutters under his breath. “You sure you’ll be okay here by yourself, Lia?”

Stealing my dad’s hat from his head, I slap the worn black material on top of my strawberry blonde waves and smile at him. “I’m a big girl. Trust me, I’ll be fine. Besides, it’s like you said. The guys are only a wall away.”

He scrubs his hand over his face. “Knowing your boyfriend’s one of them doesn’t exactly make me feel better.”

“And now this conversation is going in circles.” I laugh and kiss his cheek. “Have a little faith in me, Dad.”

“What about the motorcycle out front?” he questions.

My forehead wrinkles. “What about it?”

“Well, who does it belong to?”

“How would I know?”

His bushy brows dip, and he peeks out the front window, taking in the sleek, black motorcycle parked in the driveway.

“It probably belongs to Reeves,” my mom suggests. “It’s not like any of our friends would let their kids buy a motorcycle.”

“No offense, but all of the guys are twenty-one or over, which means they’re officially adults,” I remind them. “I doubt they need their parents’ permission to buy a motorcycle.”

“Are you saying you’re gonna do whatever you want since you’re now a big girl living all alone at college?” Dad demands.

I pat his chest. “I’m saying it doesn’t matter who owns the bike because it’s none of our business. And it sure as hell doesn’t mean I’m going to be riding on it, so what’s the problem?”

“You don’t own a car,” my dad points out.

“And who’s fault is that?” I volley back at him without bothering to hide my amusement.

My parents might be awesome, but they’re also the anti-hand-your-daughter-free-stufftype, so I’m saving money to buy a car on my own. And since I’ve been so focused on graduating high school and preparing for the upcoming hockey season, I’ve been a bit preoccupied. Thankfully, the duplex is right next to campus, so it’s not like I need a car to get to and from my classes or anything. If I do need a ride anywhere, I have three cousins and a boyfriend who would be happy to drive me somewhere. I’ll be fine.

“Don’t remind me,” Dad mutters, glancing at my mom. “You know I wanted to—”

“Don’t you dare throw me under the bus, Teddy.” Mom points her finger at him and steps closer, jabbing it into his chest. “We both agreed raising strong, independent girls included being the bad guys every once in a while.”

“But does she have to figure out how to be strong and independent while living next to her boyfriend without a car?” he whines.

“Give her a break, will you?” my mom interjects. “She’ll be fine. And it’s not like you don’t love Archer and how he treats your baby girl anyway.”

She’s not wrong.

Our relationship might still be relatively new, but Archer and I have been best friends since puberty. Until then, he had a stick up his ass like his twin brother. But as soon as Archer’s balls dropped, he decided the opposite sex wasn’t so bad, and we became really close. Then, prom happened. We danced all night, and he kissed me in my front yard, and the rest, as they say, is history. The guy has never let me down and clearly has the patience of a saint since I’ve been hesitant to jump into our relationship with both feet, proving his sainthood all over again.

Which reminds me… I kind of want to go see my boyfriend before he leaves for his internship.

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