Chapter 18 #2
Christine blinked, then laughed—but it was flustered, breathy. “No, no. Wait.” She leaned in, hand brushing Oakland’s as she passed the cocoa. “How do we rewind? Can we rewind? Like, go back ten seconds and try again, but with less forehead trauma?”
Oakland snorted, shoulders shaking with quiet laughter. “You want a do-over?”
“I want a cinematic moment that doesn’t involve my skull,” Christine whispered dramatically. “Is that too much to ask?”
Before she could say anything else, another voice chimed in, way too close.
“Hi, ladies.”
Oakland’s eyes instantly widened at the sound of her sister’s voice again. She spun around to see Kiley sitting in the seat directly behind them, one leg crossed over the other like she owned the place.
“Are we enjoying the game?” Kiley flashed a ginormous, plastic smile, her gaze wavering between Oakland and Christine like she’d uncovered the season's hottest gossip.
Oakland resisted the urge to smack that expression right off her face. Nothing irked her more than Kiley’s fake smiles. How long had she been sitting there, anyway?
“Kiley,” Oakland started, but her brain short-circuited before she could develop an actual sentence. Instead, she just glared, hoping to communicate a very clear message through sheer willpower alone.
Kiley remained utterly unfazed.
“Yes! It’s a great game!” Christine answered cheerfully, oblivious to the landmine she just stepped on. “I’m sorry, have we met?”
“She’s my little sister,” Oakland cut in before Kiley could open her mouth. “And she’s leaving. So, bye.”
Kiley, of course, did not leave.
Instead, she stuck out a hand. “I’m Kiley,” she introduced herself with exaggerated sweetness.
Christine, bless her heart, shook it politely.
Oakland sighed through her nose. “Kiley - Christine. Christine - Kiley. Great, now we know each other, and Kiley is leaving.”
“Your sister can stick around for a bit, right?” Christine nudged Oakland, flashing a look that practically begged her to chill out. “At least until the guy sitting here comes back.”
“See, Oakland? I can stick around for a little bit.” Kiley chirped, settling in like she had all the time in the world. “So, how do you girls know each other?”
“We met a few weeks ago,” Christine replied cheerfully. “Your sister saved my life after a towel dispenser attacked me.”
“Ah, so fast friends, then?” Kiley’s tone was sugar-sweet, but Oakland heard the edge beneath it.
Oakland pulled out her phone while Christine and Kiley kept chatting about surface-level nonsense: the school, the game, and whether Minnesota Nice is really a thing. If given enough time, Christine could befriend a brick wall.
But Oakland didn’t like it. She fired off a text.
Oakland
What the hell are you doing? Go away.
Kiley
You go away. I’m talking to your friend.
Stop.
You are literally spying on me.
Oh my god, dramatic much?
You two are sitting too close.
Like practically cuddling.
Kiley, I swear to God, I will tell Dad you showed your boobs to Tommy Larsen.
It was just one boob on a dare.
And you better not tell.
Try me.
Who even is she? She looks really gay.
She’s wearing a JERSEY.
KILEY.
WE ARE AT A HOCKEY GAME.
Oh I’m sorry is she a player?
Kiley leaned slightly forward, all fake curiosity. “So, what are you two doing after the game?”
Christine, caught off guard, glanced at Oakland, then shrugged. “Nothing, I think?”
The trap snapped shut.
“You should come over for dinner,” Kiley said brightly. “My parents would love to meet one of Oakland’s friends.”
Oakland
Kiley. Freaking Stop.
Oakland’s entire body tensed.
Christine turned, a little thrown. “Oh. Um…”
She looked to Oakland, clearly waiting for a signal: a no, a save, something.
But Oakland was frozen—panic thrumming under her skin, heart pounding like the inside of a drum.
Kiley smiled, all teeth.
“Sure,” Christine said finally, slowly. “I guess that’d be okay.”
And Oakland wanted to scream.
“After the game, then!” Kiley clapped her hands together, standing up and ruffling the top of Oakland’s head before she could swat her away. “See you two in a few hours.”
She flashed one last smug grin before disappearing up the steps.
This was bad.
Oakland turned to Christine, horrified. “Why did you agree to that?”
Christine lifted her brows. “I don’t know. She put me on the spot!”
“You could have said no.”
Christine crossed her arms. “And you could have jumped in at any time, but you didn’t.”
Oakland groaned, rubbing her temples. “She’s trying to set us up.”
Christine gasped, clutching her chest like a scandalized debutante. “Oh no! What if your mom sees me second-base you over the stuffing?”
Oakland shot her a look. “It’s not funny.”
Christine smirked. “It’s a little funny.”
“It’s not,” Oakland insisted. “My parents are… complicated.”
Christine grabbed the hot cocoa from Oakland’s hands, taking an exaggeratedly delicate sip. “Oh, I know,” she said with mock sincerity. “This is why I’ll be sure to talk about all my boyfriends and how much I love gender reveal parties. Really sell the whole straight thing.”
Oakland snorted. “Subtle.”
Christine smirked, leaning in conspiratorially. “I’ll even throw in a ‘God works in mysterious ways’ for extra credibility.”
Oakland rolled her eyes, but she was biting back a grin. “Yeah, that’ll do it.”
Oakland studied her, debating whether or not to pull the plug on this disaster before it began. She could. But deep down, a part of her was… curious.
What would it be like to have Christine in her world, sitting at her parents’ table, existing in a space Oakland always kept separate?
Would it be fine? A disaster?
If her parents could meet Christine, perhaps they’d see what Oakland saw in her, and maybe they’d like her as much as she did.
Oakland grinned to herself. Well, maybe not quite as much.
“Alright,” Oakland finally muttered, grabbing the cocoa and draining the last sip. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Christine grinned. “Oh, don’t worry, I thrive in uncomfortable situations.”
Oakland snorted. “Please. You don’t just thrive in them. You cause them.”
?