Page 22 of The Kiss Class

“The only downside is I have to wear a hideous Christmas sweater.”

“I know and I love you.”

We say goodbye, and I wonder what she meant when she said, “I know.”

When I hit thedownbutton to get to the basement parking garage, I realize she must be in on this team initiation thing, too. Perhaps the call was intended to slow me down or know exactly when I’ll get to the arena so the guys could get into position to do . . . well, whatever prank they have up their sleeves.

Thankfully, traffic is light, but I sense a heaviness in the air when I reach the locker room. The full team is here today, not just the guys Badaszek usually plays, which means we’re doing the “Running Lines” drill, aka an intense stamina workout. The upcoming Denver Blizzard game is at altitude, so a conditioning prep makes sense.

Redd says, “Badaszek brought doughnuts.”

“That’s a first,” I mutter as my brows knit. Everyone remains quiet. No response. I look around with suspicion. Perhaps this is a tough love practice.

Ted adds, “You should go grab one.”

“Nat would sooner duct tape my mouth shut.”

“It’s the holidays. Go wild,” Micah says in a flat tone.

Hayden murmurs, “That didn’t stop you last night.”

I narrow my eyes, surveying the space. Everyone is accounted for except Hammer. He must be in on this, too, a surprise since the guy doesn’t seem to have a sense of humor. It all must be part of the plan.

“Sure. Okay. I’ll go get a doughnut.” I make an exaggerated wink and waltz out of the locker room.

I pause outside the door, listening. It’s dead silent. There’s another exit, and I anticipate they’ll use it to leave the locker room and execute their ridiculous initiation plan.

I’m onto them!

When I reach the galley, I spot the box of doughnuts containing pillows of fried rings of dough decorated with Christmas icing and sprinkles. To my surprise, they’re only half-picked through. My mouth waters. I can’t remember the last time I had a doughnut. That’s not true. The last time I was home, I snuck a blueberry doughnut. Mom makes the best ones with a light glaze.

As I exit to the hallway, guilt punches me in the gut because if Nat sees me with a doughnut, not only will he slap it out of my hand, but he’ll make me play hockey with it in place of a puck. Doughnuts are not part of the nutrition plan.

Peering around to make sure I’m alone, I sneak one bite of the doughnut because I can’t very well let it go to waste.

Oh, sugary, doughy goodness!

From down the hall, a door opens. “Thanks for the doughnuts,” hollers Jenny, our equipment manager’s assistant.

She eyes me and then scurries away as another woman exits Badaszek’s office. My blood runs cold as a woman wearing a red scarf exits. Her eyes widen as she passes.

My mouth goes dry . . . because she and I kissed last night.

My coach calls, “See you at home, McMann.”

“Don’t be late, we want to decorate the tree, Dadaszek,” she replies.

Forget guilt, my stomach plunges and my appetite drops off the side of the earth.

Another woman who looks identical to “McMann” but wearing a dark green coat and purple hat follows. “I’m making cocoa with a full toppings bar. Calvin insists on including bananas. I think he’s gone bananas.”

“Bannanna, chocolate, peanut butter, and bananas are a perfect trio. I’d give it a try,” Badaszek says, following the two women out of the office.

Did I hear him correctly?

“You’re just as bad as him,” Bannanna says with a laugh.

My brow rumples so deeply, I’m afraid it’s going to fold in on itself. Perhaps I’ve fallen into a black hole or traveled to an alternate universe. Questions fly at me like meteors. How are there two of them? Why are they here? Who are McMann and Bannanna? Did one of them call CoachDadaszek?

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