Page 22 of Friendzone Hockey
If Dirk notices, he doesn’t say. He’s in the middle of a deep text conversation by the looks of it. He’s frowning, which means he’s probably talking to his brother. But, whatever. Perfect. I seem to have gotten away with it.
That’s what I think until my gaze falls on my brother. He’s not looking at me, he’s looking past me. At Dash. I whip my head in his direction. Dash is all beaming smiles and bright eyes.
Huh. What’s Casey’s problem?
Later, once everyone’s gone home, Casey accosts me in the kitchen. “I know what you were doing, Chandler Bing.”
“Chandler … what?”
“The season where Monica and Chandler were secretly dating. The one where Chandler almost gives them away. Ring any bells?”
He and Jack are obsessed with Friends. I guess I’ve watched it a lot with them. I might know what he’s referring to. In an episode, Chandler accidentally kisses Monica in front of Pheobe and Rachel. To cover it up Chandler … oh god. To cover it up, Chandler kisses Pheobe and Rachel as if he always kisses his friends on the lips as a goodbye.
“I didn’t know what else to do,” I say. “I didn’t plan it.”
“Uh-huh.” He’s smirking. “You’ve got a thing for Dash.”
“Shhhh, not so fucking loud.”
“Don’t think Dash can hear me from his house. You’re good.”
Then why does it feel like the whole world just heard him? “Don’t say a word. Please. Not even to Jack,” I add because Jack’s my brother’s exception to every rule.
“But why can’t you?—”
“Not up for discussion, Case.”
“Whoa, touchy.Fine,” he adds after I’ve glared stone at him long enough. “I won’t say anything—for now—but you should?—”
“You won’t say anything ever.” Fuck. This is so bad. My brother can’t help himself. It’s always with the best of intentions. It could still ruin my life.
“Okay.” He laughs. “Sweetheart, bro? Oh, you’re so cooked. You should know something, though.”
“What?”
“It broke his heart when you called Jack sweetheart.”
“I—” Did it? “He looked happy to me.”
“He recovered pretty quickly, but I caught it. That’s what got my wheels spinning. When you’re ready to get your head out of your ass, come talk to me. Night, bro.”
He pats me on the shoulder. I scowl.
And he’s got to be exaggerating. Casey exaggerates all the time. I’ll just use sweetheart more often with Dash, yeah. I’ll keep mixing it in, but Dash’ll get the most ice time with that name. After a few weeks, it’ll be the norm.
I get that feeling again. The intense one. But this time it’s like I’ve played a full hockey game with six overtime periods.
Maybe being away from Dash is for the best. Training camp can’t get here soon enough.
Stacey’s First Season With the Wildcats
With the phone to my ear, I bend down to snag the package of watermelon Jolly Ranchers, hiding at the bottom of the pile. These will make Casey’s day.
“Stace, Stace? Are you listening to me?”
“Always, sweetheart. You said that you love your dad, but he’s driving you up the wall.”
“Huh, guess you are paying attention.”
