Chapter 38
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Noah
No Notes
Peaches
Killing it! Tell Brooks his stick handling is a thing of beauty.
Me
Definitely not.
Peaches
Is that not the term for what he was doing in last night’s game?
Me
You watched it?
Peaches
My dad likes college sports. Don’t get me started on the golf we suffered through during commercials.
Me
I’ll tell him congrats on the goal.
Peaches
That’s not what I said.
Me
I know what you read, Peaches. What you’re writing. I will not comment on anyone’s stick handling.
I’ve been texting with Savannah off and on during the holidays, but a lot more consistently now the team is in Florida.
I’m arguably busier now than I was at home, but at home there was a chance that I’d ask her to come over, or invite myself to her place, which was not Friends with Benefits, or casual hookup behavior.
It was two weeks. Even less. I could definitely wait until she was back.
Still, texting while a plane ride away feels safer.
The dots in her grey bubble appear and disappear so many times over the next few minutes that I’m about to restart my phone when her text finally comes through.
Peaches
Not even mine?
Fuck me. This was why I couldn’t text her late at night when we were only an hour away from each other.
Me
Want to hit the rink when I get back? We can find pucks and sticks and I’ll teach you how to score.
I can’t even tell if I’m using innuendos or want her to take it straight.
Peaches
Cool. We can invite Izzie.
And Owen.
I look across the lobby, where Owen is currently chatting with his brothers and his dad, who all came to watch him, and feel an irrational tinge of jealousy.
Me
He’s got his hands busy now, but I’ll be sure to ask later.
I want to call her. To hear her voice. FaceTime so I can see her, but texting is safer. Though I am hiding from the guys who want to be my wingmen, and the girls who don’t seem to care in the least about school loyalty.
Me
Any news on your submission?
Peaches
They sent me a contest they think my series would be perfect for. But submissions close in February, so I don’t think it’s going to happen.
Me
That’s awesome, Sav! Congratulations
Aren’t you nearly two notebooks in? How much more are you missing?
Peaches
It’s a zero draft. As in not meant for anyone’s eyes.
I still need to type it up, hide it in a drawer for a year until I’m removed enough to read it without dying of shame, rewrite it all, then have my mom read it, fix all her notes, then maybe have a few more people read it, then bury it in the basement and let it die there.
Me
Where is this negativity coming from? You were so excited last time I saw you working on it.
Peaches
I guess the words of an old friend from high school are hitting me after being home for the holidays.
Me
Doesn’t sound like a very good friend.
Peaches
She wasn’t.
Me
Maybe you can tell me about it someday.
Peaches
I’m sorry I’m being a Debbie-downer. This story just needs so much work.
But I appreciate you thinking of me.
Me
Always.
And you never need to apologize for that. Not with me. Be as miserable or as confident as you want, I don’t mind as long as it’s honest.
Though from the little you mumble out loud when rereading it to yourself, what you have sounds great.
Peaches
You’re not supposed to listen to that.
Me
It’s hard enough not reading what’s there when you leave your notebook open on the table, I’m not about to block my ears now too.
Unless it really bothers you, obviously. I assume it’s a bit like reading your diary, which is a total invasion of privacy.
Peaches
I’ll just be more careful.
About reading out loud and leaving things open. Guess I never thought anyone would care enough to want to read.
Me
I do.
But I’ll wait until you’re ready.
Dots dance along the bottom of the screen for ever and I’m pretty sure I’ve blown it with sappy shit and showing how much I care about her writing, but she comes back with the most innocuous question.
Peaches
Are there a lot of people there?
Me
I’m told it’s like spring break on crack. Everyone is an athlete or a cheerleader.
Peaches
For hockey?
Me
Think we don’t deserve them?
Peaches
I’ve just never seen any.
Me
Challenge accepted. Be prepared for pompoms to go with my jersey next game.
Peaches
Wouldn’t a real cheerleader have her own uniform?
I think of her in the short skirts and crop tops I’ve seen the girls in today and my dick gets hard, which tells me I absolutely don’t want Savannah wearing that to a game.
Me
Definitely not.
Peaches
I’ll look into it. So much to learn! But it’s very late and I’m expected to be bright-eyed and bushy tailed tomorrow.
Me
Like a bunny?
Peaches
Like a morning person.
Me
I’ve never seen you not smiling. Unless your head was down in concentration.
Peaches
Resting smiley face.
Me
Only heard of resting bitch face, but now that RSF is out there, it fits.
Wait, does this mean you smile when you really mean to glare?
Peaches
Maybe sometimes I’m not as enthusiastic as I look, but I don’t usually want to glare at you.
Me
Gee, thanks!
Peaches
Anytime.
But I do need to go.
Me
Right.
Savannah?
Peaches
Yeah?
Me
Your stick handling is excellent. 10/10. No notes.
Those dots appear and disappear before they settle.
Peaches
Goodnight, Noah.
Me
Goodnight, Peaches.
“Why are you smiling?” Darren asks, taking the seat beside me.
“I’m always smiling.”
“Nope, dude, you are 100% serious and concerned looking. Tall, dark, and handsome.”
“I didn’t know you saw me that way, but I’m flattered.”
“Savannah?” he asks instead of reacting.
“Am I that predictable?”
“You breathe easier when she’s around.”
“That makes no fucking sense.” Especially when she’s not here, and if anything, I feel like my breathing is harder now, and I really want to know what she’d initially typed.
Darren shrugs and takes a sip of his beer.
“We’re just friends,” I double down.
“I remember having a friend like that.” The cocky bastard smirks, and I groan, because I walked right into that one.
“We’re not like you and Lacey.”
The three of us were friends in high school, but Darren was very obviously in love with Lacey. Obvious to everyone except her, until I bailed on a road trip, and they figured their shit out. They’ve been inseparable ever since, but Sav and I don’t have that kind of history.
“I think you need to decide if that just is important enough to lose the friends. Because when people like you and Savannah are ‘just friends’ it means someone is too afraid of their feelings and holding onto scraps because it’s better than nothing.”
“It’s not scraps…” I argue, but he gives me a look, and I vividly remember watching him watch her go on dates with other assholes because he was afraid to lose what they had.
“Compared to what it could be,” he amends.
“I’m not afraid of losing her friendship, D. I wouldn’t be good in a relationship, but this works. We’re good as friends.”
“For now, because you’re both afraid,” he agrees. “But real friends don’t bullshit. The longer you’re ‘just friends’, the closer you get, the more comfortable she’ll become, and when she tells you she wants more than friends, you’ll have to decide if you’d rather let her in or lose her.”
My face must show my terror at that thought, but I brush it off in the hopes he won’t call me on it.
“With the right person, losing her is a million times scarier.”
No such luck.
“And Lacey’s your person because you can breathe with her?”
“See, you’re already getting it.”
“You’re drunk.” I nudge him on his stool.
“I’m barely tipsy,” he argues. “I’m out, but you should stay here and find yourself some company.” Darren flashes me an annoying smirk. “Unless you’re not in the mood? Rather talk to your friend?”
“I need beauty sleep so I can kick ass tomorrow.”
“Keep telling yourself that.” He shakes his head at me before heading upstairs.
I do the rounds and make sure everyone will be in their rooms by curfew, then make my way up to the room we’re sharing. Darren is already snoring, clutching his phone like he either fell asleep talking to Lacey, or waiting on her call.
I reread my last few texts with Savannah, which, other than very recent innuendo filled ones, are nothing different from what I text to guys on the team, or even Lacey.
The relief that Darren is wrong is short-lived though, because something makes me check my Photos app.
I never take any. Maybe a screenshot of something I need to remember, or rarely to document cute shit Izzie and Tatum do, but I never have photos of me.
Except Iz borrowed my phone at the last game she came to, and not only are my eyes on Savannah every time we’re in the frame together, but I smile so fucking much when she’s around.
I smile with Iz too, obviously, but she was supposed to be working on math homework and using my phone as a calculator.
The smiles weren’t for her. I wasn’t posing…
they’re just what happen when I’m near Savannah.