Page 33 of Test the Ice
Weird.
I hurry around to my side of the car and slide inside. The sugary smell of Skittles fills the air as I grab the wheel. I turn to make sure Nathan is getting in–and scream.
“What the hell are you doing in here?” My hand flies to my chest to keep my heart from barreling out onto my lap.
The back door slams shut. Nathan sucks in air so quickly, he squeaks.
Malaki, relaxed as ever, shrugs nonchalantly. “Getting a ride.”
My mouth opens, but nothing comes out. I’m too shocked to form a sentence.
Malaki angles himself toward the backseat. His large frame takes up so much space I have to move backward so his arm doesn’t brush mine. “You don’t mind if I tag along, do you?”
Nathan blinks three hundred times in one second. “What? Yes. I mean–” He shakes his head, frustrated with himself. “No! I mean, no! I don’t mind. You…you’re Malaki Young.”
Malaki’s jaw drops. He looks at me with surprise and then back to Nathan. “I am?!”
A laugh bursts from my mouth.
I slap my hand over it.
I can’t let him know he makes me laugh!
Malaki’s mouth curves on the side, but he says nothing. Instead, he reaches into the back with his hand outstretched. “It’s nice to meet you, man.”
“Um, yeah…” Nathan gingerly shakes Malaki’s hand. “You too. That was a g–good game.”
Malaki turns back around—as if he’s supposed to be in my front seat—and continues the conversation. “Yeah, it was alright. We won, and that’s all that matters, I suppose.”
Nathan’s seatbelt clicks, but I still remain unmoving.
“I can’t believe I'm in a car with Malaki Young,” he says under his breath.
“Me either!” I hiss in Malaki’s direction. “What are you doing here?” I whisper, trying to keep our conversation somewhat private while Nathan gives himself a pep talk in the backseat about keeping it cool.
“I told you…” He leans over the center console, closer to me. His warm breath fans onto my face and–are those Skittles I smell?“I’m getting a ride with my favorite Uber driver.”
I freeze when he reaches across me to grab my seatbelt. He pulls it across my chest and clicks it into place. The small act shouldn’t cause my brain to fizzle, yet I can’t breathe.
I almost forget that Nathan is in the backseat until he clears his throat. It snaps me out of my near blackout. I quickly shift my car into drive while Nathan and Malaki ramble on about the hockey game for the entire seven-minute drive to Nathan’s drop-off point.
“Can I have a quick autograph?” Nathan asks, door half-opened in front of some club with a line wrapped around the building. “Do you have anything to write with?” Nathan looks around my car. “And, like, maybe something to write on?”
Malaki, who acts like this is his car instead of mine, opens the center console and rummages around for something. He findsa pink permanent marker—from my college days, I assume—and…oh my god.
My eyes almost pop out of my skull.
A nursing pad?!
Malaki furrows his brow while he flips over the cotton circle a few times.
I stopped nursing months ago but never disposed of the pads because they could come in handy at some point. Apparently, like right now–for a freaking autograph!
If someone could ram into the back of my car just enough to send the pad flying, that would be great.
Eventually, Malaki shrugs and signs the nursing pad before tossing it to Nathan.
“There you go.” He shoves the marker back into the center console, and Nathan thanks him over and over again while climbing out of my car.
