Page 55 of Forbidden Puck
I clutched my dress over my body to hide my shame. “What do you keep in that box, anyway? I noticed you moved it.”
“What box?” he asked.
“Don't play dumb. The one that was on top of the dresser, but is now beneath your bed.”
“Did you look inside it?” he asked as if he was accusing me of something.
“Wow. No, I didn't, but it must be something sensitive.”
“It's private. Don't look.”
“Forget it. I don't care about the box. We've got bigger problems, like what do we tell Lancenow?”
“What do you mean? He doesn't suspect a thing. We stick to our story and we're fine.”
“Yeah. He doesn't suspect a thing.” I rolled my eyes sarcastically. “Until he wonders whereIwas sleeping while you were banging this 'puck-slut' on his new leather couch last night. You guys are fucking gross, by the way.”
“Don't overthink it, Ella. You'll just say you were sleeping in Lance's bed. You went to bed early, and you didn't hear or see anything.”
“You want me tolie,is what you're saying.” I tutted. “Did younotlisten to what I told you last night? Don't you get it …?”
He buried his face in his hands. “I know how important it is to you to be honest. Believe me, I get it.”
“No you don't. Or you wouldn't be putting me in this position.”
“Do you know how important my career is tome? If Lance finds out, he could have me shipped to some other team. Hell, I could end up in the AHL again! Ella, all I'm asking is that you make an exception. Just this once. Don't you believe that sometimes, a lie can be for a good cause? Like, if it helps somebody out?”
“No, I don't believe that at all.”
“Please, Ella. Hockey is all I've got.”
“Then last night was a huge mistake for us both,” I said, seething. “You want me to lie for you? Fine. I will. But don't ever talk to me or ask me for anything again, because I swear you won't get a damned thing from me, Radar.”
“Ella—” He reached out to give me a hug, but I batted his stupid arms away.
“I saiddon't.”
I marched off to the shower, to wash away the grimy, sludgy sense of regret.
***
When I emerged from the shower, Lance and Radar were huddled at the kitchen table.
“Hey sis,” Lance said.
“Hi Lance,” I muttered.
“How was your workout?”
“Honestly?” I let the question hang just to see Radar squirm in his seat. “Not so good. I didn't really have it in me today. In fact, it's almost like I didn't workout at all.”
“Uh. Okay.” Lance laughed uncomfortably and wolfed down a doughnut in a single bite. I saw him catch Radar's eye, as if to silently communicate some thought like, 'women, what crazy bitches, am I right?'
“Did you sleep alright last night, Honey Badger?” Lance shot Radar another sly look. “Any strange sounds keep you up at night?”
“What, you meanbesidesthe grunting and groaning at three in the morning? Radar was banging some slut in the living room, as I'm sure he told you.”
Lance burst into laughter, but Radar slumped in his seat.
