Fake Skating(7)

“What? You didn’t tell me that,” I said, my voice a little louder than I’d intended.

“I’m pretty sure I did, but do you have a problem with that?” She gave me a weird look, and I could feel Grandpa Mick’s eyes on me. “I thought you’d be thrilled.”

“I mean, I am,” I lied, trying to be cool because I didn’t want my mom to question why I wouldn’t want to see Alec. As far as she knew, we’d happily said goodbye five years ago and that was it.

Which was true, but she didn’t know about the postcards we’d secretly exchanged since elementary school, postcards that had just stopped coming one day.

That was what filled me with dread.

The sheer awkwardness of the ghosting.

“But we just drove in a moving truck all day and unloaded our stuff,” I said, hoping for the thousandth time that Alec wouldn’t even remember the silly postcard thing.

The silly postcard thing that hadn’t been silly to me at all.

But whatever.

“I don’t exactly feel fresh and ready to see people—I’m kind of a mess after all the moving.” I knew it was stupid to care, but I really didn’t want the first time I saw Alec after all this timeto be when I looked like this—in sweats and a messy bun.

“I mean, if you wanna hang back,” Grandpa Mick said slowly, “I can stay too, and we can grab a pizza or something.”

At the exact same time, my mom and I both whipped our heads around to look at my grandpa because… well, that was absolutely unexpected. Was he trying to spend time with me? I didn’t know how I felt about that.

“No,” my mom snapped, pointing at him. “You are antisocial and eat microwave food for every meal. Sarah invited you over and has cooked food for us, so we are going, end of story.”

“God, I forgot how bossy you can be,” my grandpa said, but something in the way he looked at my mom made me think he appreciated it.

“I wonder who I get that from,” she replied, rolling her eyes. “I’m going to get my purse and we’re leaving. Get your butts in the truck.”

She turned and ran for the house, leaving me standing there with Grandpa Mick in the driveway. He didn’t even look at me as he opened his door and said, “It’s probably warm already.”

“Oh. Cool,” I said, opening the back door and climbing inside, trying to remain calm when I was about to see Alec.

In mere moments, dear God.

How can this be happening?





CHAPTER TWO Alec




“Hey, sweetie. How was work?”

“Good,” I said, shutting the kitchen door behind me and kicking off my shoes. “Quiet, thank God.”

I worked at my uncle’s hardware store every weekend (and any other time I could squeeze in extra hours, to be honest). Usually it was only on Sundays during hockey season, but since we’d had a game the night before and just an early practice that day, I’d been able to get in a bonus Saturday shift.

Which was perfect, because I needed new skates.

Like, yesterday.

“After you shower, will you make sure the twins look presentable?” My mom was rolling out dough on the center island—fucking beer bread, yes—and had three pots going full steam on the stove.

Which made me want to cry little happy baby tears, because I was fucking famished.

“They’re watching TV in the basement,” she said. “Dad was supposed to get them ready, but Andy swung by, so odds are good he forgot.”

“Yeah, but why?” I pulled off my jacket, being extra fucking careful with my left arm, and put it on a hook. “Andy doesn’t care what they look like.”

Andy was my dad’s best friend and basically like another member of the family.

“The Boches are coming over for dinner,” she said casually as she focused on the bread.

The Boches?

“What exactly does that mean?”

I was impressed by how chill I sounded when I felt like I’d been kicked.

She couldn’t mean Dani was coming over tonight.

She hadn’t brought up Dani and Hannah since last month’s announcement that they were moving back, and I’d been delusionally hopeful that something had changed.

I definitely wasn’t expecting her to come to my house for a meal.

“Mick, Dani, and Hannah,” she said. “Duh.”

“They’re ‘the Boches’ now?” I asked, because Dani and Hannah had never gone by Hannah’s maiden name before.

Or at least not that I’d known of.

“Well, Dani still goes by Collins,” my mom said, “but Hannah’s back to Boche.”

She said it with a triumphant smile, probably because she’d always hated the colonel, but I was starting to feel like something was sitting on my chest.

This couldn’t be happening.

I knew I was going to have to run into her eventually, but why tonight, when my shoulder was fucking killing me and all I wanted to do was eat and fall into my bed? Doing anything sounded like too much, but seeing Dani?

Nope.

“And they’re all coming over for dinner tonight?” I opened the fridge and looked inside, trying to wrap my head around the knowledge that shewas going to be here, in my kitchen, within the hour.