Page 32 of Forbidden Puck
We rode the elevator down and stepped outside. It was a beautiful night, the air cool and crisp, but smelling toasty and burnt in that way that only fall nights can. We took one look at the clear night sky and decided wehadto take the water taxi to Boston.
“You sure you won't be cold?” I asked. “It's not too late to go back and grab a jacket.”
“It's the perfect temperature,” she said.
“It really is. But it'll be colder on the boat.”
“I'll be fine. I'm tough.”
Her heels clicked and clacked on the pavement as we walked. She had a way of walking. I don't mean in that perfectly lady-like, princess-lesson kind of way. Her walk was unpolished, yet she moved with a natural grace all of her own. A hip-swaying swagger, with a cute wiggle in her butt.
We caught the water taxi just before it left the dock. Once on board, the two of us stood side-by-side. We clung to the railing and watched as our boat chugged through the dark waters of the harbor. The air over the water was cold, and I kept glancing over at Ella's toned arms, her athletic shoulders, expecting to find goosebumps, but they weren't there.
“Huh. You're reallynotcold.”
“I told you, I'm tough.”
I inched a little closer, so she could hear me better over the droning of the boat's motor and the splashing of the water.
“So tell me a little bit more about this honesty policy thing of yours. When did it start?”
“Short answer? One day, as a teenager, I realized that the world would be so much better if people didn't lie to each other. And so I vowed that I wouldn't live a life that required me to lie to anybody.”
“And what's the long answer?”
She patted my forearm. “That's a story for another day.”
“But aren't you obligated to tell me if I ask you, since you don't lie?”
She laughed. “No. Doesn't quite work like that, but nice try.”
“Oh.” I paused. “So how doesit work?”
“It's just a core value of mine, you know? I try to be as honest as I can with myself and with other people. I'm not perfect, and it's harder than it sounds.”
“I bet. I wouldn't last a day.”
“First, you have to know yourself. Which, as it turns out, is one of those ancient philosophical questions that humanity has struggled to understand throughout history:who am I, really?”
Sensing a sudden gulf widening between us, I gulped. “You're really smart, Ella.”
She giggled. “No. I promise you I'm really not.”
“Ah-ha—there—you just lied.”
Shy, or flattered, she dropped her gaze to her feet. “Oh, stop it.”
“Seriously. You are. I never did well at school, but I could teach you anything you wanted to know about hockey. Besides that, I'm as dumb as rocks.”
“You're not dumb, Radar.” She smiled at me, a bright, genuine smile that warmed my heart. “… for a hockey player, that is. And you can take my word on that, because I've met Lance's other friends.”
I let out a startled laugh and gave her a probing stare. “You know, for someone who doesn't lie, you sure are sarcastic.”
“I can deal with giving up lying, but don't make me give up my sarcasm. I don't want to talk like a boring robot—” she began swaying her arms around mechanically, and talking in a robot voice, “who only spits out factual information,beep boop.”
I laughed.This chick is kind of adorably nuts.
She hooked her arm around mine and brought herself closer. “But I was only kidding, by the way, about the hockey player thing. You seem reasonably, no,perfectlyintelligent.”
