Page 9 of Check the Halls
Joining the Quebec Maritimes Junior Hockey League wasn’t really a question of if, but where. As one of the three junior leagues in the country, it was always part of my plan. Or my coaches and parents’ plans for me. Regardless, I always knew it was coming.
I was happy to be drafted to Nova Scotia. It’s nice to be only three hours from home and my parents have been coming to as many games as they can manage. The billet couple I’m staying with have been great so far. Bob and Sheila’s kids are all grown up and they seem genuinely happy to feed me, do my laundry, and drive me places.Aside from not fighting with my three sisters, it feels pretty much like home.
I attend school part-time due to my demanding hockey schedule. I’m settling in well, I think, though my navigational skills clearly need improving. I know I’m supposed to be in advanced chemistry right now. I just can’t remember where the hell that is.
I spot a door that looks vaguely familiar and decide to try it. Empty. Wait. Not empty.
A girl sits at a desk at the far end of the classroom, her knees drawn up tightly against her chest, long red hair cascading over one shoulder. She startles when she sees me, her mouth opening in surprise.
And what a mouth. Jesus.
“Hi.” My voice comes out husky in the otherwise silent room.
A blush spreads across her delicate features, like she’s a chameleon trying to match the exact shade of her hair.
“I’m Ben.” I shift my backpack up further on my shoulder and step further into the classroom.
Her full lips quirk up. “I know.” There’s humour in her voice as her vivid blue eyes hold mine. “I’m Madelyn. We have Political Science together.”
Granted, it’s been a crazy week with a lot of new faces, but how the hell did I not notice her?
She tucks her hair behind her ear and my chest does this weird, tight thing I don’t totally understand. “Are you lost?”
“Maybe,” I laugh. “I’m trying to find the chem lab.”
“Who do you have chemistry with?”
I can tell you who I’d like to have chemistry with.
“Umm, Mr. Docherty.”
She smiles at me and the tightness in my chest increases. “That’s the next hall over. Go back towards the trophy cases and take a right.”
“Great. Thanks.” I don’t want to leave, but I can’t think of a reason to stay, so I nod at her and turn to go. A thought occurs to me when I reach the door and I turn around. “Areyoulost?”
She bites her lip and hugs her legs tighter against herself and shakes her head. “No. I’m not lost. Just hiding.”
I lean my shoulder against the doorway. “Who are we hiding from?”
“William Shakespeare.”
“You’re in luck. I’m pretty sure he’s dead.”
“Unfortunately, his works live on.”
When she doesn’t continue, I say. “I’m going to need a bit more context on that, Maddy.”
Her head tilts to the side as she looks at me. “Only my friends call me Maddy.”
Now it's my turn to raise my eyebrows. “We are friends.”
“Since when?”
“Since I was lost and you found me.”
“Technically, you found me.”
“Let’s split the difference and say we found each other.”
