Chapter 5
Chapter Five
MADELINE
My last school was football heavy, which was never my thing.
It’s why I was never a traditional cheerleader.
That and the fact that I love being on the ice.
I guess most people would consider being on the Ice Crew the same sort of thing.
We’re there to hype up the crowd but also to clean parts of the ice during time outs and stoppage.
When I was younger, before Dad owned his mechanic shop, money was always extra tight.
In the winters, we’d spend our time going skating together.
No matter what was going on in my world, once I stepped onto any sort of ice, I felt free.
All you needed was a lake and skates. And also hope that you didn’t skate over a fisherman’s ice hole.
It’s encouraging to see such a turnout for hockey. It makes me smile. Even if Luke Locke is staring holes into me. Oh, Georgia filled me in on who he was. The same boy my sister told me not to judge too quickly. Too late. It’s hard to erase first impressions.
As much as I love the spirit around the sport, I most certainly don’t care for most of the players, if not all, and half the Ice Crew. I don’t care if Georgia told me it was fine to be all chummy with them. That she’d understand.
I tackled her to the bed and made her take it back.
Why am I more pissed about them than her?
If Georgia told me one of them stared at her wrong, they’d be on my shit list. Why?
Because we’re best friends, and her bullshit is my bullshit just as much as my bullshit is hers.
That’s how I play it. I’m not making nice with everyone.
A friend to everyone is a friend to no one.
My dad told me to always stick to the girls, and Georgia is my girl.
Dad wasn’t one to chase off boyfriends or tell me not to date, but he did chime in on having a girlfriend and remembering that who you hang out with is who you are.
Be loyal to those that deserve it. Those are the friendships that you need to nurture.
Those are the people that will be there for you in the darkest of times.
Georgia and I are actually closer than Paislee and me, and that’s saying a lot since we’re pretty close.
We don’t have the kind of friendship where one of us would say to the other, “I warned you, so don’t cry to me when it happens.
” Nope, we’ll give the warning and still be there to pick up the pieces until we can get it through the other’s head.
I can be cordial, but I don’t have to be friends. A few might have a couple things coming. I do need to keep in mind that my sister works there, though. That means I can’t get caught. I’m a reflection of her, and this is her livelihood.
The coach drones on, and I have to force my attention there. Luke is glaring a hole into me. I hold one right back, but hell, he’s intense. Why do the hot ones always have to be assholes? Bullies are what they are.
Georgia warned me about Luke after our encounter, telling me that anyone that pisses him off pays the price one way or another.
I asked if he’d ever made her pay. She shook her head no, but it doesn’t matter.
He hangs with the hockey players, meaning he’s been privy to a lot of it.
Some of those boys are worse than the girls when it comes to gossip and being petty.
Luke is not only hot, he’s freaking breathtaking. Boys aren’t supposed to be breathtaking, but that’s what he is. Even when I was laying into him, I couldn’t help the feeling of intense attraction.
That messy short hair and nose that has a slight bump, likely from being broken a few times, only adds to his attractiveness. He doesn’t have pretty boy eyes. No, they are as dark as my hair. If you stared back long enough, you might see deeper into him.
He’s also tall, which is nice as a tall girlie myself.
In the looks department, he pushed all the right buttons.
Ones I didn’t even know were able to be pushed.
I mean, I haven’t even gotten to his thighs, and it’s only afternoon, but he’s got a five o’clock shadow.
If I didn’t know better, I’d guess him more likely to be a teacher here than a student.
Hell, a lot of the boys around here don’t look like students. They make them big out here, I guess.
When everyone starts to cheer, I jerk back to reality.
I jump up and down, joining in. I get a stank-ass look from Lana.
I give her my best fake smile. I’m not going to pretend she’s not staring at me with that expression.
I’m not one of her minions. She’s going to get from me what she gives and a little extra on the side.
I go to jump off the stage to head over to Georgia, but one of the girls stops me. “Lana is calling for a meeting.”
“She can call for a meeting?” I ask.
“All the time,” Kory informs me. When she gives a slight no shake of her head, I know she’s annoyed by this too.
“I thought only the coach and the captain could call for one. Head Coach Murphy hasn’t had us vote on one yet.”
Kory rolls her eyes. “She always gets it.”
“So you all vote her in when you don’t want her there?”
“I didn’t say that.” Kory is quick to correct me.
“You didn’t have to. I read between the lines.” She starts to talk again, but I keep going, seeing an opening here, and I’m going to take it. “We don’t have to, you know.”
Her brows rise at that and then slowly drop.
“It’s not that easy.” When she responds, she shifts closer and drops her tone. “No one is going to not vote for her. If you’re one that does, after that, she’ll make your life hell.”
“Why does she have to know?”
“We just call out our votes when Coach asks.” This is getting better and better.
“What if it wasn’t done that way anymore?”
“Then maybe she wouldn’t be captain.” Kory smirks, and I know she’s in. She leans in closer, telling me a few people who would be willing to vote against her. The more she talks, I start to think that I don’t want to be the captain. I just don’t want Lana to be either.
When Lana calls for everyone to follow her, Kory rolls her eyes my way so that I can see before following her. I don’t. I jump down off the stage and head straight for Georgia, who is now off to the side standing alone with her arms wrapped around herself.
“Hey,” I chirp at her with a bright smile. She appears so unsure right now.
“Hey.”
“What’s up?” I ask, knowing her vibe is off. Though we are now around a ton of people.
“You don’t have to go with them?” She nods to the ice girls heading in the other direction.
“Nope.” I pop the P.
“You really need to be careful,” Georgia tries to warn me again.
“You want me to keep a low profile?” I would if she truly wanted that. I’m not here to make her life hard. Not when she’s been there for me through challenging times.
“No, I want you to be yourself; I’m only letting you know.”
Ahh, she’s worried about what blowback I’ll get and how it will affect me. Even if they do their worst, what can they really do? I might be at their school, but we’re from two different worlds. I’m sure after graduation I will never see any of them again. Except Georgia.
“I got it.” I hook my arm into hers, heading back toward our dorm room. We spend the rest of the night decorating and getting everything put together before crashing out to reality TV and consuming all the junk food.
The next morning, I’m up early. It’s a habit I’ve formed. Georgia tends to stay up late with her face planted in a book.
I used to get up before school and do paperwork for my dad’s shop, and then I’d go for a run and then off to school.
This morning I headed over to my sister’s to check in with her and have breakfast. I leave her to get back to her lesson planning and walk the short distance into town to grab a coffee and stroll around.
I pause when I spot a mechanic shop with a Help Wanted sign in the window. It says part-time. Wondering what they are searching for, I stroll inside. I know it’s a long shot, but I do need a job. It’s not fun being broke, and I’m not hitting my sister up every five seconds.
I’m a girl that loves overpriced coffee and manicures, but can you blame me? Gel nails are the best thing to happen for a girl when you work in the mechanic field, even if only doing office shit. Though it’s never only office crap. There are times your help is needed in the actual shop.
“You Joe?” I ask when I enter the shop through the office door. A man in his early twenties stands from behind the desk that has two worn-out chairs in front of it. The smell of oil and brake fluid takes me back home. I have to swallow down the emotion that tries to flood in.
“I’m Joe Jr.” He runs his fingers through his short dark curls. “Call me Joey. It makes things easier around here.”
“It’s nice to meet you.” I hold out my hand. “I’m Madeline.” He reaches down to use the cloth hanging off his hip to wipe his hands.
“They’re kind of dirty,” he tries to warn me as he offers me his hand in return. They appear fine to me, but that’s because I know that oftentimes a mechanic’s hands might appear dirty, but really they are stained from work, and it’s an easy thing to say instead of explaining it.
“Well,” I take his hand and shake, “if I were worried about that, I probably shouldn’t be asking about what position you’re hiring for.” I nod back toward the sign. Joey’s brows rise in surprise.
“What? I know cars.” I don’t know everything, but I know a lot.
“But I’m even better at paperwork.” I tap the stack of estimates he has in a pile on the desk next to a pile of invoices.
They are definitely in need of some organization.
The side door into the shop opens, and I know it’s Joe Sr. when he steps through with that same dark wavy hair and deep blue eyes.
“Madeline here is asking about the hiring sign.” I bite back a laugh because his father makes the same expression Joey did when I said it.
“For the office?” he asks.
“I’m best at the office, but I know the basics if you need someone in a pinch to change filters or do a quick oil change.”
“That so?” Joe Sr. smiles at me. I nod back and smile too. “All right, what’s the difference between DOT 3 and DOT 4 brake fluid?
“In short form both are compatible. The DOT 4 offers better performance under heavy braking, but it does have to be replaced sooner.” His smile grows at my response.
“Okay, if you were to do an oil change, what should you look for when checking used car oil for signs of engine issues?”
“Taking it easy on me?” I give a playful laugh.
“You look for the light amber color and a smooth consistency. Red flags are pretty much anything else, like if it’s black and gritty or that milky brown.
Also, if you see metallic shavings in it.
That’s a bigger problem and you can always trust—” I tap my nose. “She’s a rather helpful tool.”
They both stare at me before Joey shrugs at his father. “All right, you’re hired,” he says.
Wow, that was easy. I bet classes tomorrow won’t be the same.