Chapter 7 Keep Smiling
KEEP SMILING
CLEO
I LEAN BACK IN MY BUS SEAT AND TEXT MY DAD.
Driving all the way to Monarch is tough for him after a full day of work, but the SCU campus is only a half-hour drive from his place, so fingers crossed. I stash my phone away. My weekly message-in-a-bottle to my dad is sent out with more hope than expectation, but I’m an optimist.
Jinx is beside me on the bus. She’s biting her fingernails and staring out the window. This very un-Jinx-like behaviour means that she’s nervous. When I look around me, there are a few tensed faces. It’s a big game, since St. Clare is in first place and we’re in second. Winner takes first.
But stressed out is no way to go into a big game. We need to loosen up.
Anyone want to hear about my second dinner at Marjorie’s? I call out.
Oh god, yes, Jinx exclaims, and there are cheers of agreement. Everyone loved hearing about our first dinner: the huge mansion, Marjorie’s feisty personality, and my whispered insults.
Unfortunately, it was Mats’s night to shine, I confess. Who knew that he has an encyclopedic knowledge of oldies music? Marjorie broke out the record player and made us dance.
Oh my god! You and Mats danced together? I need all the details, Jinx squeals.
Is this fake dating turning into real dating? Gilly asks. Mats was right; I was so horrified at having to spend more time with him that I told my friends almost the moment I left Barb’s office.
Absolutely not, I reply, but without my usual disgust. I hate to admit it, but I don’t actually hate Mats anymore. I’ve tried hard to maintain my resentment, but he’s not the cold, emotionless robot I pictured.
There’s a tiny twitch at the corner of his mouth when he’s trying not to smile.
And I see that twitch whenever Marjorie says something outrageous, or even when I whisper insults.
As Mats said, the more I get to know him, the harder it is not to see him as a fully dimensional person.
However, I can still resent him for being a know-it-all who happens to be right.
Guys, it wasn’t slow dancing! We weren’t touching or anything, I explain, even if there’s a teeny tiny part of me that wished it had been. I shake my head to get rid of that insane fantasy. There’s no way Mats and I could ever work out, especially since my brother can’t stand him.
Jinx, pull up ‘Do You Love Me’ by The Hollies, I command. When she starts the music, I jump into the aisle and show off the Twist and the Mashed Potato, which Marjorie actually demonstrated for us. I was worried she was going to throw out her hip, but she was surprisingly spry.
Soon I have my teammates laughing at my exaggerated moves.
Now try to imagine the super-serious Roy Matsumoto shaking his leg like a potato masher, I tell my giggling audience. But, for the first time, I feel a stab of guilt. Mats was such a good sport about dancing while Marjorie and Geraldine called out directions to us.
Is a potato masher a real thing? Lisa Doiron asks.
Fuck yeah. Geraldine even brought one out to show us, I huff between dance moves. How does TayTay sing and dance at the same time?
I can’t believe it, Jinx says. I always thought he was dark and brooding.
Of course, his best dance was the Jerk, I swallow down my guilt for the sake of team laughs, then fling my arms up and down to the music. Mats’s best dance was actually the Watusi, where he rotated his hips around in a way that had Marjorie fanning herself.
By the time the song ends and I collapse back in my seat, everyone is loose and happy.
Coach Burton gives me a nod. Sure, I act like a fool sometimes, but I’m not just showing off.
Burty told me that this year’s team is really gelling, and she thinks it’s because of my leadership style.
My strength is reading the room. I’m the biggest cheerleader for my teammates, and I make sure everyone’s included.
I’ve been on clique-y teams where half the team doesn’t like the other half, and they totally suck.
We head into the arena in a happy bubble of chatter and excitement about the big game. We play hard, but the game ends up in overtime, and SCU wins.
In the dressing room, Cori Freedman is slumped on the bench, half-undressed and staring into space. She’s our backup goalie, but she started tonight. And she’s taking the loss hard.
I sit beside her. You played your ass off. I should have scored on that glorious chance in the third, and we wouldn’t have gone into OT.
She doesn’t even look my way. I let the winning goal in. It was my chance to show Coach I can handle the pressure. Otherwise, Knudy will have to start every game.
Knudy would like nothing more than to start every game, but it’s good for her to get a rest once in a while.
What about that glorious pad stack you made at the beginning of the game? We wouldn’t even have gotten a point if they’d scored on that shot. That was a save for the ages, I say.
Finally, Cori looks up and smiles. Yeah, that save was nice.
I slap her on the knee. It’s a team game, and we’re a fucking team. Just worry about getting better each time you play, which you’re totally doing.
She nods and finishes undressing. I move back to my place beside Becks.
Doing all your captain stuff? she asks.
I can’t help it. When I sense someone’s down, I have to try to cheer them up. Like a fucking birthday party clown. I unlace my skates, then pull off my breezers.
No, it’s all good. Next time I’m sad, you can do the Mashed Potato for me. Becks raises her arms and wriggles her seated butt. We both laugh.
I wish there was video of Mats dancing. I imagine it was a lot hotter than your lame demo, she says.
He looked okay, I lie. When Mats shook his ass, the temperature of the entire mansion shot up.
Becks sees through my bullshit. Translation? He looked totally hot. You’re finally coming around to what everyone else knows: Mats is very desirable.
Wait, are you guys talking about dating guys on the men’s team? Jinx calls out. Because if so, dibs on Big Z.
Only if you want your heart broken. He doesn’t do relationships, Caroline Kelly declares. She’s dating Ross Murphy on the men’s team, so she knows all the players.
Players start tossing out the names of various hot guys on the Mustangs. Of course, Mats gets mentioned several times.
Most of them already have girlfriends, Caroline says.
And a lot of those girlfriends are in Alpha Zeta Mu, Cori points out. Obviously, that’s Lana’s sorority. The hottest guys on campus gravitate towards the hottest women.
And that’s the injustice of our sport. Guys that play hockey are in big demand, but women that play are considered to be too athletic, like that’s a problem, complains Jinx.
A lot of us are into women who do like women hockey players, Gilly points out gleefully. And she’s right; it’s an advantage for her.
Since the PWHL started, women hockey players are getting a lot more respect. We’re becoming role models to young girls, says Ella Smith. Trust Smitty to elevate a discussion on dating to bigger concerns like the professional league. That’s why she’s a leader on this team.
I like Ethan Unger, Becks whispers to me.
Really? He’s Mats’s housemate, you know. Ethan is a junior like us, so we’ve had classes together. I find him grouchy, but he’s not bad-looking.
Duh. Why do you think I offered to go over and help with the kitten that night? she says.
At the time, I had cursed Becks for trying to extend my time with Mats, and celebrated when he turned her down. Was it only a couple of weeks ago that I couldn’t stand to be in the same room as him?
Mind-reading as usual, Becks asks quietly, So, do I sense a softening of your feelings for Mats?
Maybe. I scrunch my nose. I hate admitting this.
Wow, don’t get carried away by all this passion, Nellie. She laughs. So, how come you don’t hate him anymore?
He’s nice. Like a decent human being.
Mats seems very steady. He’s the kind of guy you’d bounce problems off because he’d give you good advice.
Becks mimes pulling her hair out. Do I have to drag everything out of you? What exactly has he done to change your mind?
Lots of things. He’s a good sport. Everything I’ve thrown at him, he’s handled.
From making him eat fatty foods to repeatedly calling him Roy, I still haven’t gotten under his skin.
Last Tuesday, Geraldine got Mats to help her rewind a skein of wool.
Seeing him sitting there, with wool around his hands and Mr. Fluffer in his lap—it destroyed my image of him as a snobby jerk.
He’s endlessly polite to me, even when I’m being a total brat.
He treats me better than any guy I’ve dated, and he’s not even getting fucked for his efforts.
Becks leans closer. What about the stuff with Jordan? Did you ask him about that?
Yeah. He wouldn’t tell me anything. Said it’s confidential. Of course, I overreacted that day, but our discussion did plant a seed of doubt in my mind.
Well, that seems conclusive, she states.
What do you mean? I ask.
A guy who’s too principled to reveal details that would clear his name isn’t the type of guy who would frame someone, she declares, with all the assurance of a woman who spends way too much time watching true crime shows.
I guess, I agree with zero enthusiasm. I don’t like being wrong. And besides, there’s no proof, other than Mats’s personality.
Becks leans closer to me. Nellie, if you actually like Mats and want this to go anywhere, you need to talk to your brother and straighten this shit out. Like, yesterday. Because Mats seems like the kind of guy who holds the people around him to a pretty fucking high standard.
She’s right, and I vow to grill Jordan the next time I see him in person. But that may not be until he picks me up for our mom’s birthday party in early March, which is over a month away.
Then I shake my head. You know, you’re getting carried away. All I said was that I don’t hate him anymore. That doesn’t mean I like him.
We grab our towels and head to the showers. Becks is not giving up, though.
You know, I can see you guys together. That whole opposites-attract thing. You’re the Little Miss Sunshine of our team. He’s Mr. Dark and Stormy.
He’s not like that, I protest. Mats is just a normal guy, nothing like his online image of a brooding grouch. Can we drop this? We need to catch our bus.
Then I turn the shower on, so I don’t have to hear another word.