Page 36 of Puck of the Irish

I was being a terrible party guest and watching on my phone. Have to support my favorite goalie, duh.

I bite my lip, hoping he jokes back. I want that back so badly, realizing now how much I've been missing it.

Rizzo: You don't have to lie, Nat. I know you wanted to watch my fine ass skate around all night.

I smile and sigh in relief, huffing out a soft laugh.Baby steps.

You mean Roman's fine ass, right?

Rizzo:

Rizzo: Call Mac. Text me later.

Me: Yes, sir

That tension that’s been clenching my chest ever since everything got so screwed up with Rizzo finally eases a fraction. I feel like this is the first step back in the right direction with us. And if he wants me to text him later, that means he doesn’t plan to be otherwise occupied, right?...

I shake the thought away and call Hattie. She picks up on the third ring.

"Are you alright??"

"Yeah, I'm…I'm fine," she says, though she sounds seriously shaken up. But when she continues, she sounds perfectly normal and I can practically hear the fake smile she's got plastered on her face. "I got freaked out in the parking garage, but it was nothin'. I think I just watched one too many scary movies the other day, that's all." I narrow my eyes as I make my way down the stairs, heels clacking loudly.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm positive. What the heck is that sound?"

"I'm running away from this event down the stairwell," I tell her, half serious. I am ready to get the hell out of here, only partly because of my incredibly cringey make out session withthe server. Hattie laughs. "Do you want me to come over? We can watch movies all night—non-scary ones. I'll stop for popcorn and candy on the way."

"Rain check? I think I'm just gonna hit the hay."

"You sure?" I ask. I don’t want to push. Lord knows I’m the last person who can say anything about not being entirely forthcoming with what’s going on in my head, but I get the feeling that something is definitely wrong with her.

"Yeah, I'm good, I promise. Thanks, Nat."

"Ok, call me tomorrow. Or text me later if you change your mind and want me to come over."

She promises she will and we hang up. I make my way back around to the entrance of the ballroom to grab my coat. Despite the unease about Hattie, my lips actually curl when my phone buzzes and I see Rizzo’s name. I head out into the cold, feeling better than I have in weeks.

The good feeling doesn't last as long as I'd hoped. Dad asks me to a late lunch the next day and I decide that it's time to talk. I can't ignore him forever, after all. And I don’t want to. As much as we clash, he’s my dad and I love him. He’s all I have left. I don’t want us to be on opposite sides of some stupid, imaginary battlefield.

So, I meet him at one of our favorite spots and he already has my favorites ordered for me when I arrive: BLT, extra bacon, with cheese fries and ranch for dipping, of course.

I smile at him and he returns it. Maybe this will stay nice and civil. Maybe he's finally come to terms with my life choices and understands that I'm happy (complicated love lifenotwithstanding) and he's going to tell me that he's good with it. Hey, I can hope for a Christmas miracle, can't I?

Wrong.

We barely get through hellos and comments about the Winter Wonderland event, before he dives right in. I don't even get to take a second bite of my sandwich before my hands are clenched into fists and my appetite is gone. Ok, that’s a lie. I’m starving and that makes me even more mad that he couldn’t even let me enjoy my fucking lunch before ruining everything.

“I’m not doing this, dad," I say, quietly but firmly.

I can’t believe he still thinks he can just make all these decisions about my life without my consent. He once again doesn’t evenaskif I would be interested in Lysander’s position, it’s not even a conversation. He just tells me when I’ll be starting, like it was a done fucking deal.

Actually, scratch that, I can one thousand percent believe it—and it’s making me see red. I’m so over this.

“Yes, you are. The discussion is over.”

“What discussion?” I hiss. “There is no discussion, there never is with you! You decide and expect me to just obey. And for a long time, that’s how it was, so it’s my own fault for setting the precedent I guess, but not anymore.” The muscle in his jaw ticks as he clenches his teeth and I can tell that he’s trying his best to keep his composure.

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