Page 19 of The Ex Puck Bunny
Or not. I won’t actually hold Heidi against her will. My intent isn’t to upset her. I turn back toward her street.
“Ordinarily, I don’t care much about other people’s opinions, but you’re my best friend’s sister. Chances are, when Derek and Debbie have kids, we’ll both be involved. It’s not like you can just hate me forever for no good reason.”
She throws her hands across her chest like a defiant teen. “Watch me.”
“Heidi Clementine Rice,” I say in a scandalized tone, surprising myself at remembering her full name.
She gasps. “You’re not the boss of me, Grady Allen Federer.”
My frown deepens. “You’re not being fair.”
“Who said life is fair?”
“No one,” we both say at the same time in almost a whisper.
She goes suddenly still. “How’d you know my middle name?”
I shrug. “Dunno. Derek’s is Wednesday. Did your parents go through a hippy phase or something?”
Pausing at a stop sign in front of Mr. and Mrs. Yeardley’s old place, one block over from Silver Queen, Heidi and I look at each other for a long moment. It’s not like we’re squaring up to prolong this fight nor is it like we’re browsing books on the shelf. There are a few chapters in Heidi’s story that she’s not sharing. Me too for that matter.
But I genuinely don’t want her to hate me.
“Remember when you had a lemonade stand and refused to serve us?” I ask.
She thinks for a long moment. “That’s because you didn’t want to pay. I was a young entrepreneur. Trying to make money to buy a new Bratz doll.”
“Figures. We just wanted free samples.”
Heidi chuckles. “And I’d rather dump the lemonade and iced tea over your heads than give it to you for free.”
“You dowsed Derek and Trey. You spared me.”
She squints as if trying to remember. “That’s a shame.”
“Oh, come on. We had some fun back in the day.”
“Like the time you told me ghost stories or ate all the hotdogs when we were at Uncle Stan’s lake camp.”
“Blame your brother. He was the evil genius.”
“You were his accomplice.”
“Hardly. I was just trying to fit in,” I mumble the last part, not sure why I revealed that.
“Well, you do now, number eighty-one.” She bristles.
How did she know my player number? I still don’t understand what I did to make her despise me. Is she likening me to Trey?
“Hockey players aren’t all the same.” Lucan Ketsivalis comes to mind too.
Gaze meeting mine in the dim light, Heidi says, “Prove it.”
My pulse does a flip-flop.
“I’ve been proving myself my whole life. Are you sure you want me to accept that challenge?” The words are out of my mouth, but I already did.
“Not particularly.” She sounds tired.
