Page 34 of One Pucking Destiny

“I want to know something about you. Not because we have an audience and you’re forced to play along but because it’s something you want to tell me.”

“What if I don’t want to tell you anything?”

“Then throw me a bone and think of something anyway.”

She scoots back, resting against the side of the pool.She runs her foot against my calf and takes a drink of her beer. “You tell me something about yourself.”

“My life is an open book. What do you want to know?”

“Tell me about April and Marty. How were they as parents?”

I whip my head to the side, raising a brow. “How do you know about April and Marty?” If I’m not mistaken, a blush colors her cheeks.

She chews on the inside of her cheek, looking guilty. “I might have googled you.”

“You did? When?” I laugh.

“After I arrived and you retreated to your room. I went to find you, but I wanted to know the basics before confronting you. I guess I was just so shocked that you were on the Cranes. I mean, my mom talks about the team constantly. She’s married to a player. I’ve met a bunch of them, but I’ve never met you. It didn’t seem real initially, so I had to prove it to myself.”

“I get that, and to answer your question. April and Marty were great parents and both teachers. My dad was my high school social studies teacher and hockey coach. My mom works with students with special needs. They’re wonderful people. There’s nothing much to tell.”

She nods as if she expected this answer. “So youhad the perfect upbringing—loving parents, two kids, love, and enough money for everything you needed.”

“You say that as if it’s a bad thing.”

“No.” She shakes her head. “It’s not at all. It’s just that you seem like a person who had a perfect upbringing. I was just curious.”

I finish the beer and place the empty bottle on the tile behind me. “Well, if you’re trying to say that I’m a well-adjusted adult, then thank you. Now, your turn.”

“No, I’m not done with you yet. Who do you love most in this world?”

“Hattie.”

“What do you love most in this world?”

“Hockey.”

She puts her empty bottle beside mine. “Okay, so let’s say you were crap at hockey. What career would you have gone into?” She wraps her legs underneath her, sitting cross-legged, and faces me.

“I’d probably have been a teacher and a coach like my dad.”

“Why?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. I like kids; I love talking. I love learning. And I love sports.”

“So what kind of teacher would you have been? Social studies like your dad?”

“Honestly, probably not. I think I would’ve been a high school English teacher. I love reading. Hattie and Iused to do buddy reads growing up. When we were finished, we’d talk about the book for hours. What we liked about it. What we didn’t. We’d discuss all the aspects of the book, from the pacing to the character development to the meanings we found. It’s so satisfying to deconstruct a book and really get into it. I think it’d be fun to do with teens, and I imagine we’d have some lively discussions.”

“What’s the last book you read?”

I sigh. “Honestly, I can’t remember. I haven’t read a book for pleasure since my first year of college. Once hockey got serious, I only had time for studying and practicing. Now, hockey is my entire life. You think that’s bad, don’t you?”

She shakes her head. “No, I actually think it’s admirable to love something so much that you dedicate your life to it. It’s quite a commitment. Not everyone could do that.”

Her answer fills my chest with warmth, and I feel that maybe she truly sees me and understands what makes me tick. “Come on. I’ve answered a bunch of questions. Surely, it’s your turn to give me something.”

“Okay.” She pauses. “I’ll tell you this… I lied to you earlier.”

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