Chapter 18
eighteen
Sam cackles, picking up her fork and stabbing it into her Cobb salad. “He thought Calder was into me?”
“I know! I mean, not that he couldn’t be, but where did he get that idea?”
She shrugs and swallows before saying, “You know what this means. You have to listen to me forever now.”
I shake my head. “I barely know him.”
She grins. “You know you like kissing him. And that he buys you fancy glasses.”
“So much better than a pen, right?” I look behind me to make sure Garrett isn’t standing in the hall. His door’s closed. I breathe a sigh of relief. “I’m proud of myself. I told Garrett the truth.”
“You did. You were a very big girl today.”
I beam at her. I might not have received that kind of praise from my own parents, but she’s an excellent surrogate. “I’d marry you, I think.”
“Yeah?” Sam crunches on a forkful of lettuce. “I’m messy.”
“Perfect. Then I’d feel like the clean one for once.”
“We could run together in the morning.”
I screw up my face. “Forgot about that. Deal breaker.”
Sam laughs. “It’s too bad we didn’t have this discussion earlier. I would’ve opted out of our singles’ night at Smash Point.”
My eyes fly wide. “Is that tonight?”
“Mmhmm. Did you bring your stuff?”
“Definitely.”
Sam reaches for her water bottle. “We’ll stop by your apartment on the way.”
Alecia
Sam and I are heading to Smash Point for the singles thing. Are you there?
Calder
You're single?
I don’t think anyone’s locked all of this down yet
Huh. Someone told me you were making out with a guy in the parking lot. Weird
Yeah, not sure where you’re getting your information
I’ll be there
Sam tries to grab my phone, but I throw myself at the window. “Stop! You’re going to kill us all!”
She laughs, only swerving a little as she puts her hand back on the wheel. “You’re smiling like a lunatic.”
“That’s normal.”
“What did he text you?”
I hold my phone like it’s piece of delicate fruit. “I’ll show you when we park. It’s not as good if I say it out loud!”
Sam rolls her eyes and turns up the music.
The sky does that neon sherbet thing that makes you forget there’s anything wrong happening in the world, and we sing-shout along to Rascal Flatts the rest of the drive.
When we finally park, I keep my promise and let Sam read through my texts with Calder.
We’re both a little giddy as we walk into the club.
Luckily, Smash Point is buzzing when we enter. We’re barely on time, so Sam pulls out her wallet to check in, but Space Buns waves her off. “You’re covered.”
My eyes narrow. “Does she have a membership?”
Sam frowns. “I didn’t—”
“She does. Paid monthly.”
I yank on Sam’s arm before she can say anything. “I think Calder got us free memberships,” I hiss as we race to the back where our group is gathered.
“What? Because of our lessons?”
I nod. “Yeah, when I came with Garrett, they said I had one, too.”
“Well, that’s amaz—” She stops, holding on the “z,” her eyes fixed dead ahead.
A man stands on a flipped-over crate, calling everyone to attention. He’s tall and tan with dark puppy-dog eyes.
Sam scoffs. “What is it with these guys? It’s like they’re factory made.”
I give her the side eye.
“Not Calder. I’m just saying.”
“You know, one of these days you could actually give one of ‘these guys’ the time of day. You might find out they’re not all bad.”
We barely make it to the tables by the time Justin—I find his name on the tag pinned to the front of his shirt—starts explaining the rules for the night.
“Each of you filled out a questionnaire online, yes?”
The group nods in unison, but I don’t.
I lean over to Sam. “There was a questionnaire?”
“Didn’t you see it in the app?”
No, I did not see it in the app.
Justin continues, “We’ve got them printed up and posted there.
” He points to the wall between our courts.
“So if you find someone you want to know more about, you can read their answers and get some talking points. Or, you know, just ask them.” That gets some chuckles.
“Warm-ups are three minutes, then a game to five. Green wristbands rotate.”
I look down and see that most people already have on either a green or blue wristband. Failed twice already, excellent.
“Where’s your questionnaire?” A voice sounds behind me, and I jump. I’m already smiling before I see Calder’s face.
“Must’ve forgotten. Where’s yours?”
He shrugs. “Still filling it out.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “Oh yeah?”
The whistle blows, and we scatter. My first partner is a guy in 80s-patterned shorts, which are legitimately cool. My second is a software engineer who . . . fits the stereotype of a software engineer, and my third is a dentist who seems nice enough that I motion to Sam to get him on her list.
“Ladies, looking good out here!” a voice calls, and I turn to see Frank along the fence, his right leg in a boot.
“Hey!” I jog over. “How are you feeling?”
“Oh, it’s coming along. Another couple of weeks and I’ll be ready to try it out.”
Sam comes over from her court to say hi. We may have only had one lesson with Frank, but he certainly made an impression.
“Looks like Calder got you whipped into shape while I was gone.”
I nod. “He’s a task master.”
Sam somehow keeps a straight face as she says, “So much drilling.”
Frank chuckles. “Well, glad to hear it. Looks like I better let you go.”
Sam’s partner waves her over, and when I turn back to my court, my heart lights up. “Speak of the devil.”
My fourth partner is Calder.
He saunters onto the court with a lackadaisical, “Hey.”
I stifle a smile. I don’t know how I ever thought he was in a bad mood all the time. Now his expression looks less broody, more thoughtful. “Having a good time?”
“The best. You?”
“Oh, definitely.”
Calder tosses the ball over the net, and we get into a dinking rhythm. “So what do we do now?”
“I think you’re supposed to be charming or something.”
“Oh. Perfect. My specialty.”
I snort.
“Seems it’s already working.”
I don’t know what we talk about for the next five minutes because I don’t think I’m physically inhabiting my body. I’m floating. Living in the rafters.
By the time we play our mini game, I’m barely capable of holding up my paddle.
“What are you doing?” Calder frowns at me when I miss a block at the net.
I smile back. “I don’t know.”
His lips twitch. “You’re not paying attention.”
“Yeah. It’s hard. I’m a bit distracted.”
He blows out a breath. “If you tell me there’s another spider—”
I bark a laugh. “No, no spider.”
“Then get your head in the game, Mabel.”
A comment like that isn’t helping, but I do my best. We end up squeaking out a win 5-4 and after we tap paddles, Calder turns to me. “That was a terrible showing.”
A laugh bubbles up my throat. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“Your instructor must be pretty bad.”
“No, this is my fault. He’s great.”
Smile lines form at the corners of his eyes. “I probably shouldn’t look at your questionnaire then.”
I give an “oh, shucks” swing of my arm. “I didn’t finish it, so you couldn’t even if you wanted to. Probably a defense mechanism.”
Calder grunts. “Well, luckily your instructor saw that coming. So he took care of it.” He turns and walks to his bag, pulling out an old-school manila folder.
“What is—?”
He hands it to me. “You can post them if you want.”
I stare at the folder, then flip it open to see a form with Calder’s name written at the top. And behind it—
“You filled one out for me?”
He scrubs a hand over his jaw. “I think you’ll find it’s extremely accurate.”