Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
Zaiah
Lenore climbs into the RV. I peer over my shoulder at her while Izzy’s words swirl inside my head. Scared? Please . I punch people out on the ice if I have to. I’m not ready to have a girlfriend right now because the idea is stupid.
My sister opens her mouth again, and I hip-check her. Luckily, she looks back to find Lenore there. “Inspiration?” she asks her.
My roomie nods. “I have a mind like a sieve, so if I don’t write it down, I’ll forget. Then I’ll get mad at myself and won’t write because I’m convinced whatever thought I had previously was a better thought than any future thoughts.”
We both peer at her, my eyes giving her the “you’re crazy” look.
“It’s a vicious cycle,” she explains.
Izzy turns back around, handing me the dish to dry. Under her breath, she says, “For what it’s worth, I liiiike her.” Rolling my eyes, I turn to put away the bowl, and when I turn back, she’s glaring at me. “Maybe a change in the type of girl you go for is exactly what you need.”
“I don’t have a type,” I whisper-yell.
She bursts out laughing.
At that moment, my father comes in from the back. “What’s all this laughing?”
“Nothing, Dad. Zaiah thinks he’s a regular comedian over here.”
He sits on the couch opposite Lenore, and I smile when he peers over at her. My dad is such a people person. Hell, he could talk to a light pole. It was smart to bring her today, forcing her to interact. You’d have to be rude not to be active where my family is concerned.
“Lenore, have you ever seen Zaiah play hockey?”
Her gaze darts up. Every time hockey is mentioned, she startles a little. I’ll have to unravel that mystery. Actually, Len has a lot of mysteries. Pulling stuff from her is like trying to make fire out of water.
“Oh, yeah. Yes.” She shakes her head. “I have. I’m sure I have.”
“I hope you’ll come to his game tomorrow.”
He barely has the words out before she’s answering. “Oh, no, I have to work on my article.”
I can’t help but grin. Man, she wants to avoid it at all costs, doesn’t she?
“No, remember?” I ask, turning completely to face them. I dry off a dish until she peers at me. “I already got you a ticket. You said you wanted to come for that other article you were going to write.”
Her gaze narrows, but she plasters a fake smile on her face. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“I put you in the family section with Mom, Dad, and Izzy.”
My dad waggles his brows like a cartoon character. “VIP.”
She can barely muster fake enthusiasm. “That sounds…great.”
When my dad glances away from her, Len tosses me a look, but I shrug, my lips curving into a grin. She approached me about this, so it’s all on her. She needs to experience hockey before she can write about it. Maybe I can even get her to a practice, too.
“You’re not a sports person?” my father asks.
“Not really.” She clears her throat. “My dad’s a big, um, sports person, though. I guess that kind of turned me off.”
“Turned you off?”
“Dad,” Izzy warns. I swear she has a sense of when to push and when not to push people.
He waves his hand. “I know, I’m prying. Forgive me.”
Len shrugs. “It’s fine.”
I wait for her to continue, but she doesn’t. Silence in the RV lengthens.
Strange…
Smoothing the towel over the sink, I say, “Well, Dad, I hate to break up this party, but Lenore and I have to get back.”
He stands from the couch, the smile dropping from his face. “Let me tell your mother.”
There’s a shift in the RV, and I wonder if Lenore can feel it. We’ve eaten, we’ve played games, we’ve talked. But now I have to go prep for the game, and my mom is about to come out crying.
On cue, sniffles sound behind me. “Oh, baby.”
“He’s twenty-two, Mom.”
She swats my sister away and opens her arms. I go into them, rocking her. Her head hits my shoulder, and I rub her back. “I’ll see you again tomorrow,” I remind her.
“I know.” She peers up, tears clinging to the corners of her eyes. “Have a good game. Blow me a kiss after you score.”
I chuckle. “Mom, I think that’s bad luck now.”
She steps back, craning her neck. “It is not. Nothing involving your mother could ever be bad luck. You go out there and put that puck in that net tomorrow. You hear me?”
I lean over to kiss the top of her forehead. “You got it, Coach.”
“Alright, let’s go, then,” my father says abruptly, already reaching into his pocket for the keys.
I squeeze Mom one more time and turn to follow him, waving at Lenore to do the same. “He’ll drive us back in the car.”
She nods, eyes lighting up. When she saw the Mini Cooper my parents were towing, she freaked out.
Another one of my father’s toys.
“It was so nice to see you all,” Lenore says, her voice genuine.
My mom pulls her into a hug too. “You too, sweetheart. Come any time.”
“Feel free to leave the big dope behind,” my sister offers.
I flip her off, and even though my back is to her, I’d be willing to bet she’s doing the same.
I wave Len in front of me and then walk down the stairs, leaving Mom and Iz behind. “See you at the game!”
“Go Bulldogs!” Mom yells.
My dad pulls the car up to the door of the RV at the same time. “You’re going to have to sit in the back,” I tell Len. “I’m too tall.”
“Like I’d sit in front,” she chastises. “It’s your family.”
I blink, déjà vu hitting me. The outcome, though, is much different.
Trish told me I was being rude for asking her to sit in the back around my family and making her feel like a second-class citizen. From then on, I was always cramped in the back seat with my knees in my face while my father gave me disapproving looks in the rearview mirror.
Taking a breath, I close my eyes, letting the uneasiness go. I open the door for Len and grab her hand to help her into the car. I don’t know why I do it. It’s automatic, a gesture of appreciation. “Thank you.”
She gives me a strange look. “It’s a car ride…you big dope.” Her lips turn up, morphing into a wide grin.
The tension sluices off me in an instant seeing her blue eyes shine with mischief. I lean into the back seat. “That’s not going to make it into the article, right?”
She taps her chin like she has to think about it.
While she’s distracted, I grab the seat belt and pass it around her waist. My fingers graze her hip, and she stills. The seat belt clicks into place, breaking the shocked look on her face, and it’s my turn to smile at her. “You good?”
She nods, swallowing. “Mm-hmm. Yeah. Fantastic. All hooked in. As snug as a bug in a rug.”
“Did you…eat too much of my mom’s dessert?” I tease. “You seem kind of jittery.”
My phone pings, distracting me. My father, however, launches into a conversation about Mom’s cooking, which Len graciously listens and responds to while I take out my cell.
Iz: Mr. I’m Not Interested, that looked pretty damn cozy.
Peering up, I spot my mom’s and my sister’s faces plastered in the RV window. Iz smirks, and Mom is looking on like she’s watching a romantic movie.
I slide into the car, typing:
You can mind your business now. Don’t get Mom in a tizzy.
Mom got herself in a tizzy. She LOVES her.
I sigh, putting my phone away and shutting the door.
My father asks, “Everyone all buckled?”
No, not from him, too . I turn his way, and he’s giving me the widest grin.
My whole family is crazy.
The rest of the way back to our suite, my dad talks happily beside me as the lake turns to trees, then the trees to houses when we near Warner. Len asks him questions about the Mini, and he answers with glee. If there’s anything he loves to talk about, it’s the toys he’s acquired.
Before long, we’re pulling to a stop in front of Knightley. He puts his hand on my shoulder until I turn to look at him. “Good luck. See you at the game.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
“Thank you for your hospitality,” Len says from the back. “I really had fun hanging out with the Jameses today.”
My dad peers over his shoulder and smiles. “You’re welcome back anytime, dear.”
That’s more than they said to Trish, and rightfully so, looking back on everything.
I give my dad a mock salute, and Len and I get out. My heart is heavy, weighing my footsteps down. It always is after I leave them. Their presence is a reminder of where I came from and the fact that their lives kept on turning, even when I wasn’t there to enjoy it with them.
“Wow, your family is so—”
“Don’t,” I snap, waving at my dad as he pulls away.
“I was going to say awesome. Or amazing. I was going to say that I wish my family was more like yours.”
“Oh.” I cast my gaze toward the ground while I walk. “Sorry. Reflex.” I open the main door for us, but she’s stopped moving, staring at me until I add, “Some people think my family is too much.”
She nods, and I might be imagining things, but I’m pretty sure she knows exactly who I mean. She probably heard it all, come to think of it.
“Well, I thought they were great. All of them. If my dad came to visit, you would die of boredom.”
“Only your dad?”
“My mom left when I was two.” She averts her stare, but I don’t think it’s out of grief, just another mystery that makes up Lenore.
“I’m sorry.”
She shrugs in answer and slips through the open door. We head toward our suite, Len walking in front, and I have to say, those leggings are working for her. Not that I’m trying to look. Her ass is just kind of there, and it’s… Damn .
I shake the thought off. “Is it cool if I watch some game tape on the main TV in the living room tonight? It’s bigger than the one in my room.”
She lifts her shoulders, but then whirls, nose scrunching. “Yeah, thanks for telling me about the game so I look like an idiot, and don’t make a habit of doing hockey…shit in the living room. That was one of our agreements.”
I put my hands up in mock surrender. “I won’t.” Her attempt at sounding fierce brings a smile to my face. “I don’t even have to do it tonight.”
“I’ll allow it,” she says, eyes distrusting, then she breaks into a warm grin. “Only because I want you to blow a kiss to your mom tomorrow. I thought I was going to cry when she started crying.”
“Then my diabolical plan is working.”
“Huh?”
“Meet my family, fall in love with them, take it easy on me.”
“Oh, is that it?”
I nod.
“Well, it is working,” she says, shoulders deflating like all fight is leaving her.
“You could watch the game tape with me?”
She unlocks our suite door. “I’d rather throw myself off the roof.”
She really hates hockey. How is she supposed to write a positive article about the sport if she despises it? Man, girls are complicated. That was one piece of advice my father gave me that still adds up. The man’s a certified genius. Though, I’m not sure you have to be a genius to come to that conclusion.
Len throws up a hand, calling out, “Have a good night,” as she walks directly to her room.
I stop in the mouth of the hallway, taking in the suite. It’s nice to have a clean, organized space. To not have some dude passed out, drooling on his bed. And the smells some guys can produce… I shiver.
This is heaven.
A part of me is scared to leave school, but the other part is so ready for it. I can stay with my parents until I’m settled. Not ideal because they are a bit nosey, but it’s better than other options.
I grab some snacks and relax into the couch before casting the game tape I asked Coach for onto the TV.
Half an hour later, Len comes out. “How can you still eat?” she asks as I bring a tortilla chip topped with salsa to my mouth. “Your mom can cook . I feel like I gained ten pounds.”
She’s back to wearing her frumpy pajamas, and since I’ve now seen her in leggings and know the shape of her body, she most certainly did not put on ten pounds. “Carb loading.”
She grins, shaking her head all the way to the kitchen. Glasses rattle around and then I feel her behind me. “Number 9, right?”
How does she know my number? The question sits on the tip of my tongue, but I don’t ask because it dawns on me that the reason is something I don’t want to think about. “That’s me.”
Surprisingly, she stays there. “You’re good, James.”
I burst out laughing.
“What?”
“Such a fantastic compliment coming from someone who hates hockey.”
She doesn’t make a sound, and when I peer up, her cheeks are red. Coming around the couch, she sits on the opposite end. “Well, it wasn’t hard to guess. You scored a goal in that footage.”
She stays put, and I find myself looking at her more than I do the tape. Her profile is smooth. Pretty, even.
Surprise runs through me. I tilt my head, taking more of her in. She’s wearing an oversized shirt and even bigger bottoms, but they tug tight around her ass as she brings her leg up. She’s got the sexy girl-next-door look going on right now. Like in that Taylor Swift “You Belong With Me” video, the friend you suddenly find pretty, even though Len and I were never really friends. I looked past her whenever Trish was around, which was a mistake. If today is anything to go by, I would’ve had a better time with Len.
“Hey.”
She spins toward me.
“Why did you introduce yourself to my dad as Lenore?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. I felt like I needed to be someone different to pull off a meeting with your family.” She settles back, taking a drink. “Turns out, I’m not sure I had to. They were so accepting.”
“They are. So what do you want to be called? Or are we back to square one?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. Shouldn’t I be asking you that question, relationship guru? Which one is more attractive, Lenore or Len?”
I wave her away. “I’m not deciding on your name. That’s preposterous.”
She raises her brows at me.
“I know. Your big words are rubbing off on me.”
She grins, peering away. “I guess I don’t know. Can’t it be like someone who has the name Catherine? Sometimes people call her by her full name. Sometimes people call her Cat or Cathy.”
“So, Lenore when you’re in trouble. Len when we’re having fun, and—”
“Never Nor,” she ekes out, gaze serious.
I make a cross over my heart. My sister went through a phase where she did this all the time, and for some reason, I mimic her here. “Cross my heart.”
I wonder why she hates the nickname Trish gave her. Why she doesn’t know where Trish is or ever talk about her? Not that I should be thinking about her right now when I should be watching this tape.
I turn my attention back toward the TV, but Len asks, “When did you start playing?”
“Youth hockey,” I answer. “My town had a team. I started when I was five.”
“Impressive. And you still like it?”
“Still get butterflies when I put on skates.”
She smiles. “That’s like writing for me. A blank paper is full of opportunities. It’s probably similar to when you put on skates. Thinking about all the things you could do…” She swallows. “Don’t mind me, I’m kind of a romantic about things like this.”
“Like what?”
“Chasing dreams.”
I smile at the thought. I almost turn the tape off because talking to Len is far more interesting, but I’m afraid if I do, she’ll leave. “Being known for something?”
She nods. “I like getting those bylines, I’m not going to lie.”
“Like being immortalized.” She nods in agreement, and I continue, “I used to want to play professionally, but…” There’s a lot after that but. However, now that I’m thinking about it, it sounds like a lot of sour grapes. “It would’ve been nice to have my name hanging in a rafter somewhere, so I get what you mean about bylines.”
“What are you going to do after graduation, then?”
“Get a job, settle down, maybe even coach for the youth hockey team that started me.”
“I love that,” she muses. “Full circle.”
On the TV, the faint sound of cheering meets my ears.
“Serendipitous,” she says.
“If you say so.”
She watches the celebration on the TV, then asks, “How long are you going to be up?”
I check my watch. “Not sure. Another hour, maybe. I don’t want to be up too late. Have to get my sleep in for the game tomorrow.”
“I’ll bring my work out here, then, and we can do it side by side.”
“Yeah?”
“If I won’t bother you. I just don’t feel like being alone.”
“Yeah, me neither,” I say quickly, throat closing up.
She stands, returning a few moments later with her small laptop and a notebook.
“That’s it?”
“This is it,” she says, settling on the opposite end of the couch. She points to her head. “The magic happens in here.”
Her words trigger goose bumps up and down my arms. She gets right to work—head down, fingers flying across the keyboard. I can only stare.
The magic happens in here.
I like it. I love it, actually. I go back to watching tape with that in mind, tomorrow’s game starting to look like an amazing opportunity.