Page 59 of Just My Puck
I clear my throat. “Thank you so much for putting all this together,” I say, glancing at the cake, then at my group of new friends. “We’ve known each other for only a few weeks, but you’ve been such an amazing support system for me, and I’ll forever be grateful for each and every one of you. Thank you for taking me in and helping me through this. You guys are the best.”
“Here, here!” they say before taking a swig of their drinks.
“Oh,” I say, loud enough for everyone to hear me again. “And if I wake up tomorrow with all my memories and realize I’m a die-hard Sharks fan, I hope we can still be friends.”
Laughter fills the room.
“Ah, come on. You can always change allegiances,” James says, winking at me. “We have gifts.”
Now, it’s my turn to laugh. “Fine. Let’s see what you’ve got before I make up my mind.”
“For the record,” Caleb whispers in my ear, sending shivers through my body, “I wouldn’t care. Raptors fan or not, you’re stuck with me now.”
I glance at him, and I detect thesame smoldering heat in his eyes as earlier. “I am, huh?”
“Yep.” He nods, crossing his arms. “I would prefer you wear my jersey, but it’d take more than a change of team colors to keep me away.”
We exchange a smile, and I bite my lip to suppress the urge to throw myself in his arms. Instead, I focus on the myriad of gifts that are being presented to me.
I receive literal boxes of pens because Caleb told everyone I loved them. There are also cute notebooks, a shirt that says “Ask Me About My Birthday,” lots of books, and the polaroid they’ve been using all night to take pictures along with all the photos themselves in a box labeled “friends.” The next gift I open is a memory-foam pillow.
“In case you forget your sleeping position,” James says, waggling his eyebrows.
I laugh. “Is this part of your plan to make me a lifelong Raptors fan?”
He arches his brows. “Is it working?”
“Maybe a little.” I chuckle, and he gives me a fist bump.
“Last present of the night,” Caleb says as he hands me a box. I open it, and inside, I find a collection of trinkets—a mug, T-shirt, pen, and notebooks—all printed with the phrase “Future Bestselling Author.”
I chuckle, shaking my head. “I love it. Thank you.”
“And I mean it.” He winks.“You’re welcome.”
“Wait, you’re writing a book?” Alice blurts, and all eyes in the room turn to me. My stomach clenches, but after a moment, I relax. Yes, I kind of wanted to keep that part of my life private, but sharing it with my friends feels right. I want them to know.
The girls gather around me, and I tell them about my writing while the guys start devouring the cake.
“Wow, that’s wonderful,” Marissa says. “When can we read it?”
“It’s not quite ready yet, but I can send you what I already have.”
“Yes, please!” Marissa and Alice say in unison, followed by an affirmative from Emma and Hayley.
“I mean,” Beth says, “I’m not really into reading, but if you wrote it, I definitely want to read it.”
“It’s just the beginning of a rough draft,” I say, unable to hold in my smile. “And I’m not sure if it’s any good, but it wouldn’t hurt to get some outside opinions.”
Marissa claps her hands. “I’m so excited for this!”
“Please tell us it’s a romance,” Alice urges, eyes closed and fingers crossed.
“It’s a romance.” I nod, giggling. “Mixed with a little adventure.”
“Already sold,” Hayley says.And just like that, I start to dream. Could I really do this? Write a book, publish it? See it displayed on the shelves at No Shelf Control? For the first time since my accident, I have dreams and a perspective for the future.
“Oh, you’re on!” Maxime booms behind me. He’s arguing with James, as always, and we turn around to listen to them. “How about we settle that tomorrow? Let’s meet bright and early at the rink.”
