Chapter 3
Chapter Three
MADELINE
“Maddie!” Georgia calls out when she spots me from across the street.
I was trying to surprise her. My girl is impossible to miss with her wild curls, which she loathes while I adore them.
I think they are even cuter when she pushes her glasses up into them.
Her freckles that dance across her full cheeks and nose are truly endearing.
There are precious moments and angel vibes happening all around her.
“Hey!” I call back as I jog across the street. I half jump into her arms, almost knocking her over, but my hug keeps her on her feet. Georgia is shorter than me, though she’s got great hips and ass. Georgia has all the killer curves, honestly.
“You’re really here,” she says when we pull back from the hug. I see unshed tears in her eyes.
“Are you okay?”
“Just excited is all.”
“I am, too, even if my father had to die to make it happen.” I say this with a straight face, causing Georgia’s eyes to widen before she bursts into laughter. Our dark sense of humor is a quality we both share.
“You’re terrible.” I link my arm into hers.
“And you love it.” We enter the coffee shop together. The coffee isn’t great, but the pastries are. This café is always one of my first stops when I can make it out here. Damn, I suppose I can come all the time now that I live here. That is going to take time to get used to.
We both order and snag a table. It’s still pretty empty, but that will change when classes start. “So fill me in on things.”
“We talked last night and texted all day. Not much to fill in.” This is true. There isn’t a day that goes by that we don’t have some sort of communication.
“I mean, like, what’s happening around town? Can we decorate our room yet? All those things.”
“Oh.” Her nose gives a small scrunch.
“You don’t have to help decorate,” I reassure her, making her laugh.
“I’ll help with the putting the stuff up part.” I would rather she not. Georgia is an adorable klutz. I’m convinced that she’s so smart and in her own head so much that simple shit just passes by.
“Thanks, Jenny,” I tell the barista when she sets my apple turnover down in front of me. “Good luck tonight, not that you need it.”
“Oh, I need it.” She lets out a small laugh. “Thanks, though.”
“You know her?” Georgia asks when Jenny heads back behind the counter.
“I mean, not really, but she’s worked here for a few years, right?”
“Yes, but I only know her name.”
“We talked at the counter.”
“Of course you did.” She picks up her drink and takes a sip. “Always the social butterfly.”
“I’m not a social butterfly.” Her brows rise.
“Okay, compared to you, I’m one.” I enjoy talking to people.
It distracts the mind. If you say you are happy and appear happy, you’ll often start to feel that way.
Though it’s not working so great at the moment.
There is this hole in my chest that keeps on growing, and I don’t know how to fill it.
“If you say so.” She takes a bite of her cherry Danish.
“So—” I circle us back to the topic at hand.
“If you mean with school, there is a pep rally, and Caleb always throws a big party.”
“Hockey player Caleb?” That fucker is on my shit list. In fact, the whole hockey team is.
“The one and only.” She rolls her eyes.
At my last high school, I could float around from group to group. I have always gotten along with most people—until I’m pushed. Bet my ass will push right back. Let’s see if they do that shit in front of me. Then I’ll make it everyone’s problem.
“We don’t have to go,” I tell her. I more mean the party. I think it’s required that I go to the pep rally.
“I’ve never been.” Georgia folds and unfolds her napkin.
“Do you want to go?”
“Might be nice to experience one before I graduate.”
“Well, now you got a wing-girl.”
“Wing-girl?” A soft, shy smile forms. “I was only going to see it. I’m not hooking up with anyone around here. I might not be in the gossip mill, but I hear it. And I promise what happens at Kingmakers doesn’t stay there. Not in these circles.”
Georgia does live in a different world than I do.
She may be hundreds of miles from home, but in the world of elite social life, news about a family name spreads quickly.
I guess because they all have fancy planes and shit, that location doesn’t matter.
They must bump into each other all over the freaking place.
That’s why all these families have to have a handful of houses.
Gosh, bet that’s hard to keep up on. Oh, the problems of the filthy rich. Ones I’ll never know in my lifetime.
“With everyone being housed kind of together, does it get catty over boys?”
“You have no idea.” She puts her face in her hand as she shakes it.
“So the same people hooking up with each other?”
“Pretty much, but I try not to pay attention to it. It’s stupid when the girls fight over the hockey players.” I couldn’t agree more with all the things Georgia has told me. They’re all a bunch of douche canoes. Cocky assholes who think they’re God’s gift.
My phone goes off with a reminder. “Shit, I was supposed to collect my gear.” It completely slipped my mind.
“Oh, so you’re doing it?” I don’t think she’s too happy about it.
“If I didn’t, my sister would worry.” She’d think I’m still mopey about our father or God knows what else she’ll make up in her head that she needs to fix for me.
It’s easier to just take the position on the Ice Crew.
I enjoyed it at my old school, but that was a more low-key school.
Hockey here is the same as football in Texas.
I don’t know if it was the dean with influence from my sister or what, but I was given a spot on the team without trying out. She gave them videos, I believe. I’ll likely get shit for it too, but I didn’t tell my sister that. I’ll deal with it.
“I should learn to skate.”
“Oh, now we’re talking.”
“You’re going to teach me?”
“Yep, just like you’re going to help me with all my math work.”
“Deal,” she agrees as we grab all our stuff. “I’ll drive us over; it’s quicker.”
“What in the BMW is this?” I motion to her car.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“It’s a nice shade of blue.”
“It’s obnoxious.”
“It’s a nice car.” I laugh. A very, very nice one. I know this one cost over a hundred grand. BMWs require certain training to be able to work on them. All my knowledge about cars comes from my father. I don’t know everything when it comes to them, but I know a freaking lot.
“My father had it delivered a few days ago.”
“For your birthday?”
“I don’t know. You know how he can be.” She shrugs it off.
Yes, Georgia’s father got the wrong child if he wanted one he could bribe. This gift is his most extravagant yet. It has red flags popping up in my mind, but I keep them to myself. I don’t want her fretting about my thoughts.
“How did I not notice this before?” I ask when we pull up outside of the ice rink that is almost the size of an arena for the NHL.
“It sits on the backside of the school. The school is kind of up on a hill.” She points. I’m aware. I never had a reason to come to this side before when I visited. “That really wasn’t a question, was it?”
“Sure it was,” I say, stepping out of the car. “You don’t have to go in with me if you don’t want to,” I tell her when she side-eyes the building. Those fuckers have really spooked her. “Are you friends with any of the other Ice Crew members?”
Georgia starts laughing at my question.
“Good. I’m the jealous type,” I tease her, bumping my shoulder into hers.
It’s going to be hard to be friendly with a bunch of girls if they’ve had issues with Georgia. I’m sure I’ll have a bigger target on my head. I don’t belong here. I’m not smart enough or rich enough, nor do I turn a blind eye to anyone’s bullshit.
“You always lift my mood, no matter what is going on,” Georgia tells me as we go into a side entrance.
“That might be my favorite compliment I’ve ever gotten.”
“It’s true.” Good, that’s always my goal.
The sound of skates gliding on ice and sticks hitting pucks grows louder as we step into the arena.
“Practice is still going,” she tells me. I nod, watching the hockey team, and I can tell already they’re good, really fucking good. I never realized how fast-paced it could be when the players are actually skilled. The way they maneuver on their skates is incredible.
“Who is who?” I ask, and Georgia starts listing them off, starting with Caleb. Her head swings in one direction and then another.
“A few others aren’t out there, and I don’t know him.” She points toward one of the players as he takes his helmet off, revealing short, wavy hair. “He’s a new recruit. I heard he’s from the West Coast. That’s about all I know of him.” Georgia stares at him, her brows pulled together.
“Are you into him?”
“What! No, this is the first time I’ve seen him.” She gets defensive.
“All right, all right.” I put my hands up. “We won’t talk about how you’re into blonds.”
“Oh my God.” Georgia groans, making me laugh. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot a long table with a handful of girls around it.
“They’re staring,” I tell Georgia, making sure not to move my lips.
“That’s the Ice Crew.” I figured. “I’ll wait here.” She drops down into one of the seats before I can protest. I’m not going to force her.
“Give me a few names.” I’m all about names and faces. All the details I can get about people. I don’t know why my mind always retains those things. Why can’t I remember algebra formulas instead? That would be helpful. I guess in the long run I won’t use algebra, but I will use this talent forever.
Georgia might not be aware, but I recall a few of the names. She’s said them in passing when we’ve talked, which we do every day. I was getting little stories about them here and there.
“And last but not least, your captain—”
“Lana Parks,” I say before she can. The girl that has made Georgia’s life harder. I don’t get it. Georgia wants to blend and not cause trouble. It pisses me off that they are actively seeking her out to try to make her miserable.
“What are you thinking?”
“Nothing.”
“Liar. What?”
“Maybe I’ll be the captain.” Her eyes widen. I love how expressive she can be.
“She’s always the captain,” Georgia informs me.
“I read all the crap they sent over.” It was a massive guide, but being informed always gives you the upper hand. “Captains aren’t picked yet for this season.”
“Be careful,” Georgia tries to warn me.
“What’s the fun in that?” I wink at her before making my way down to the table.