Chapter 6 #2
"My other brother says nice guys finish last. Hudson says crying is for losers and you should always look out for number one. But I don't know."
"Hudson sounds like a jerk. I think I prefer the first brother," I mumbled. Something about the name rang bells in my head, but my brain was too full of my mother's big news to sort it out. "So, who's your favorite?"
"Everyone likes Tolliver better—except maybe girls."
My heart stuttered at the name.
"But my favorite's my sister, Elle," he said with a grin. "That's her down there."
As one of the players on the ice rammed another player into the boards, the sound of a whistle cut through everything.
"There's no contact, Elle," Tolliver said, skating out to center ice. My pulse picked up at the sound of his voice, the mere sight of him, and I gave myself a mental shake. "You know that. We're working on speed and agility today."
The girl threw off her helmet. "But Tollie, he shoved me first."
I grinned at the nickname.
"Did he?" Her brother narrowed his eyes. "Or did you decide to throw him into the wall again just because?"
The girl shrugged. "Well, he could've shoved me."
"Elle."
"He checked me five seconds ago! You just missed it."
The boy who took the hit removed his helmet as well. "She's right, sir. I did," he said.
Elle rolled her eyes. "I don't need or want you sticking up for me, Kowalski."
"Just telling the truth, Stone."
"And don't call my brother 'sir.' It's weird."
The boy lifted a brow. "It's a sign of respect. Not that you'd know anything about that."
"Yeah okay, butt kisser."
"You're just mad because I stole the puck."
"By illegally checking me."
"Then you illegally slammed me into the boards," he retorted.
"You deserved it," she said.
"Not saying I didn't."
He shot her a wink, and Elle scoffed.
"I kind of enjoyed it."
"Hey!"
Another voice rang out, this time from the stands, and I realized it was from the previously sleeping, now apparently wide-awake spectator. My lips tipped up in recognition as she threw back her hood, revealing long, raven black hair.
"Nice hit!" Hazel said. I knew her from our writers group at school.
Hazel's favorite stories were murder mysteries, though she also had a deep love for mafia romances.
She had three piercings on each ear. I'd never seen her without makeup.
And her own writing always involved a little bloodshed. "Way to play, Elle."
Tolliver sighed. "Don't encourage her, Haze."
"Why not? It was an awesome hit."
"They're supposed to be assisting with the day camp, not"—Tolliver threw out a hand—"whatever this is."
The boy on the ice frowned at Hazel in the stands. "In case you forgot, you're my sister."
Her charcoal-lined eyes were unapologetic as she shrugged. "And?"
"You should be cheering for me."
"I call it like I see it, Kayden." Hazel sniffed then threw Elle another grin. "Good job. He never saw it coming."
"Thanks," Elle said, beaming while Kayden shook his head.
Hands on his hips, Tolliver looked like he was fighting back a grin. "Let's keep the comments from the crowd to a minimum."
Hazel waved him off. "Whatever."
"You play goalie," Tolliver said to Elle. "You don't get to hit people."
"Whatever. I'm keeping my options open," she replied.
"No contact. One more incident, and you're benched."
Elle looked and sounded sullen as she said, "Fine."
Tolliver sighed then looked around. "And where the heck is Eli? Is he still in the bathroom?"
"No." Elle pointed to the stands right where we were sitting. "He's over there talking to some girl."
"Who..." Tolliver's voice cut out as he spotted me. Skating to the edge of the rink closest to us, he was smiling again. "What are you doing here?"
Before I could respond, Eli said, "She was crying."
His eyes shot to his brother. "Was she?"
"Yep, but I made her laugh."
I glanced sideways at him, wondering whether I should be upset with him for outing me or amused. "Thanks a lot."
"Welcome," he said then waved bye to me as he walked down to the ice.
Tolliver crossed his arms, so I crossed mine.
"Who's that?" Elle asked Eli.
"Not sure," he said, "but I think Tolliver likes her."
"He did stop practice to talk to her."
"I think she likes him too."
"Looks like she's blushing."
I fought the urge to feel my cheeks.
"Suicide drills," Tolliver shouted then blew his whistle as all the kids on the ice groaned. "Get on the blue line. Let's go."
After he blew it again, we continued our stare-off.
"So, you wanna talk about it?" Tolliver said, looking at me like he had all the time in the world.
"Not really," I said.
"Okay."
A beat passed, then for some unknown reason, I blurted, "My mom's getting remarried."
"Is she?"
"Yeah, and her new daughter, Stacia, is basically perfect. Older, prettier, kinder, more athletic. Disgustingly perfect."
"Hmmm. Perfection's overrated," he said.
My lips twitched. "She wants me at the wedding—even though I hate weddings, and I don't know what my dad is going to say, and I'm basically depressed about everything."
Tolliver nodded as I stopped for a breath. "Anything I can do?"
"Can I catch a ride with you? I mean, if there's room."
His smile reached epic proportions. "Absolutely, Freya Kent. There'll always be room for you. I've got about 30 more minutes here, then we can go. You willing to wait?"
Wait here for Tolliver, or return to the awkwardness that is my mother and her new family?
Was it even a choice?
"I'll wait," I said.
"I'm glad," Tolliver said.
Oddly, I was too.