Fake Skating(51)

“If you can catch me, I’ll tell you,” I said, knowing I was safe from having to discuss Dani, because he wasn’t even going to try. I cleared my head of everything, and from the second the puck dropped that night, we were fucking on fire.

I got lucky from the jump with a rim around the boards that led to a turnover behind the goal line. Kyle got the puck with space behind the net and wrapped it around the right post into the low slot to Richie, who got enough on his shot to get the puck past their goalie.

It felt slick and easy, one minute in, and we never let up.

Everything worked that night, and we fucking destroyed them.

After the bus brought us back, I stopped by the team offices to see Kuhn—one of the assistant coaches—and get his okay on Dani being a team manager. I dropped it casually, like Are you cool with a new kid helping Cassie? and he—of course—agreed.

I mean, I wasn’t an idiot.

Going to Coach Oz, after what he thought he’d walked in on the day before, would’ve been a terrible idea.

“He was cool with it?” Richie asked as we walked to my car.

“Yeah,” I said, a little surprised myself.

“I mean, she’s Boche’s granddaughter,” Vinny said, “Of course he’s gonna be cool with it. You really think he wants Mick kicking his ass for turning her down?”

“Boche’s not going to kick anyone’s ass,” Richie said. “Probably.”

“Of course he isn’t,” I said, although the old enforcer wascrazy intimidating.

After dropping off the guys and wolfing down some leftover meat loaf that was in the fridge, I went up to my room to get started on my homework since I needed to stay on top of my shit now more than ever. My parents weren’t home yet, which I didn’t hate because I could use a little quiet.

But first I needed to text Dani and make sure we were all good. I flopped onto my mattress and stretched out, then decided to hit the FaceTime button instead.

She answered on the second ring.

“What are you doing?” she asked as the call connected, her eyebrows down behind those big glasses. “Don’t you know it’s considered a breach of etiquette to assume the FaceTime call without asking first?”

It looked like she was also sitting on her bed, because there was a white headboard behind her.

“My bad,” I said, rolling over onto my good side. “I just thought talking would be easier than texting to let you know that you’re in as manager. So tomorrow just check with Cass on where you should go and what you should do at practice.”

“What did he say?” she asked, her eyes wide. “The coach was fine with it after… y’know…”

That made me want to laugh, the way she looked too innocent to finish the sentence, even though nothing had been going on. “He’s fine with it.”

“Oh, thank God,” she said, putting a hand on her chest and looking so relieved that I almost felt guilty. “So I’m officially one of the team managers.”

“You are.” I cleared my throat and said, “Hockey manager and my, uh, not sure what to call you… person of interest…?”

“Sounds like I’m being investigated by the feds,” she said.

“Lover?”

“Gross.”

I heard the slam of the door downstairs, so either my parents were home or my grandma was back with the twins.

“My boo?” I suggested.

She sighed but I could tell she wanted to smile. “How about the brilliant girl you’re suddenly obsessed with?”

“That doesn’t sound right,” I said, and then she didsmile. “You can’t be brilliant and mistake Kronwall for cornball.”

“Can I tell you a secret?” she said with a shitty little smirk.

“You knew it was Kronwall and just wanted to annoy Mick,” I said.

She coughed out a laugh. “Little bit.”

“What’s it like so far, living with him?”

She shrugged. “He doesn’t really talk to me. He barks out random questions and statements when we happen to cross paths, but that’s pretty much it.”

“What a game—ooh, sorry,” my dad said from the doorway, putting up a hand when he saw the phone.

I didn’t know if she was ready for a public outing with our parents, but what the hell? Might as well start ruffling our family’s feathers with the shock of this. I watched her face as I sat up and said to my dad, “No worries—it’s Dani.”

She looked back at me and I saw her register who I was talking to, and then she tilted her head and gave me a little squint, like she knew exactly what I was doing.

“Danigirl!” my dad said, gesturing for me to hold up the phone. He fucking loved her, so this was going to be interesting. “How’s it goin’, kiddo? You like it so far? Is Al showing you everything you need to know about being a Packer?”

“Well,” she said, smiling in that way that told me she was up for the challenge, “I actually thought he was avoiding me when I first got here, but suddenly he has become incredibly helpful.”

“Has he now?” my dad said.

“Also, John—what happened to your squishy little son? I mean, not that I’m complaining,” she said, “but he has definitely changed.”