Page 52 of Overtime
“Any other hockey questions?” I take another bite of my food to shut myself up.
“Um, I mean. Lots. What made you choose hockey? Or did it, like, choose you?” An awkward laugh. “What’s it like when you’re playing? Have you been hit by pucks before? Why did you decide to be a goalie? Is your training different? I mean, I guess it must be—you’re not shooting pucks, but catching them. And?—”
“First of all, breathe. Second, it’s probably better if you experience it.”
“I plan to watch your next game.”
That makes me oddly excited, but not as much as when I say, “I mean some firsthand experience.”
Strawberry blinks fast as her brain processes. “There is no way in heck I could possibly play hockey. I don’t even know how to skate.”
“Excuse—” I do a double take. Triple. “Were you born and raised on the beach or what?”
“No, here. But not everyone is good at sports, you know.”
I shake my head. “Fine, I’ll give you a reverse-tutoring plan too. First step, I’m going to teach you how to skate.”
“But—”
“No further hockey questions will be answered until then.”
“What about non-hockey questions?” A slow grin spreads across her lips when she paraphrases our earlier conversation.
And like then, all she gets from me is a grunt before I take the last bite of my first arepa. My stomach is rumbly, but this time it’s not because of the food.
CHAPTER 16
MADDIE
“Are you sure this isn’t a date?”
Ryan sits on my bed, watching me braid my hair so it doesn’t get in the way later for what I’ve told her a million times isnota date. I press my lips tight and give her A Look through the mirror. The same one I’ve sent her way the past two times she asked.
She puts her hands up. “I’m just saying it looks an awful lot like one. A guy and a girl going ice skating together on Valentine’s Day? I mean, c’mon. I can’t be faulted for thinking it might be a date. Your denial makes it all the more sus.”
“Aran and I clarified that this is just for book research.” I wrap a pink hair tie at the end of my braid. It matches the knit cable sweater that took me all last year to make.
“If so, why is it just the two of you?” She smirks.
“Because—” I interrupt myself with a long-suffering sigh. “I’ve told you I don’t want anyone else to witness my awkwardness.”
She dips her chin and gives me an incredulous look. “But it’s okay if Aran does?”
“Yes, because that’s all he’s done—watch me make a fool of myself over and over,” I say, turning around with a great huff.“I mean, I even talked about my period with him. If that’s not enough reason to put him off me, then there’severythingelse.”
Tilting her head, she asks, “What’s everything else?”
I gesture all around me, as if it’s self-explanatory. But confusion takes over Ryan’s expression, so I add, “I’m just not his type.”
“Based on what? Did he say so?”
“No, but I know. I’ve seen one or two of his girlfriends on campus. And like, he dated you, and you’re absolutely freaking stunning, fit, fun, and kind, and… I’m just not like that. I’m short, fat, flabby, and a walking embarrassment.” I cringe.
Ryan coughs and splutters to the point where she has to thump her chest before she’s able to talk. “Okay, first of all, that’s bullshit.”
“No way. You really are all that!”
She smiles from ear to ear. “Okay, maybe not that part. I am pretty cool. But the whole thing about you not being his type is the bullshit.”
