“Plus I can’t tell JR I’m dating his daughter without taking her on a proper first date,” he comments, making a smile tilt at the edges of my mouth.
Maybe his actions will match his words and soon he’ll be ready to tell people. I continue to tell myself that I’m not the reason he doesn’t want to say anything. It’s my dad, and he doesn’t want him angry. It’s not me. It’s not me.
But a little piece of me is whispering in my ear that it is me. It’s because I don’t look like his normal girls. I’m not a hockey trophy wife.
I shove the voice away. Looking up to meet his blue eyes, I allow them to drown me in him.
“I won’t wait forever, B.”
“I won’t make you wait forever, Vallie.”
I’m going to give him the benefit of the doubt. I’m going to trust that he wants me, that he wants us, and that he really does need time.
I lean into his touch, letting his thumbs roll across my cheeks to wipe my tears.
“Always us?” I whisper.
He smiles, moving his hand to tug on one of my loose curls.
“Always.”
“That is fucking bullshit, Sully!” Sara yells noisily, removing the bucket from her head exposing her brown ponytail.
I turn on my skates, viewing the goal where she stands. I take my helmet off too, tucking it underneath my arm, skating towards her. My messy braid is letting pieces fall in front of my face, and I try my best to push them back.
I’d just scored on her again, and if I knew one thing in this sport, it was that goalies have the worst fucking temper.
My freshman season began weeks ago, and our first game was coming up shortly. Our team dynamic was smooth, and we all got along decently well. The first few practices were rocky. Some of the upperclassmen were struggling with the fact that two freshmen were going to be starting.
“If you were half as good of a fucking goalie as you are a chirper, that shit wouldn’t happen as often,” I retort. I was never one for team on team violence, but I’d come to appreciate that Sara liked to push people’s buttons to see how far they’d go before they blew up.
She was a senior this year, and it was her way of trying to put us freshmen in our place. I’d been around enough hockey rinks in my life to know this was an initiation to the team. She’d been dogging my ass all week.
I attempt to place my helmet back on when she persists to argue with me.
“Oh please, freshman. Your luck will run out eventually.”
I grew up around grown men, backing down was not something I was good at. I was always up for a challenge.
“That’s the second hat trick I’ve scored on you this week, luck hasn’t got shit to do with it. Maybe luck is what you need, that or we need a better fucking goalie.”
Riggs stifles a laugh from across the ice, while the rest of the team watches. Not sure if they should intervene or let it play out. Aurelia Riggs, my partner in crime. They say if you are friends for seven years, you’ll be friends for a lifetime. We’d been attached at the hip for close to eleven.
“Fucking eat me, bitch,” she snarks. Jesus, at least give me a good comeback to work with Sara. You’ve been doing this longer than me; I would think you’d have this shit down pat by now.
“Spread ’em, skank. You should be good at it with all the practice you’ve had. That five-hole is always wide the fuck open.”
She opens her mouth but no words come out because she is interrupted.
“Girls!” our coach yells plainly from his position in the middle of the ice. He moves towards us, speaking as he does. “Sara, you’ve got all kinds of holes lately, get your shit together or I’ll bench you. Sully, watch your mouth. Stop acting like a toddler, and remember you're still a freshman. Now, wrap it up, ladies, that’s it for today!”
I give him a smirk, biting the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing.
“Yes, Coach,” I grumble, before skating towards Sara and smacking her ass with my stick. She rolls her eyes grinning at me, flying the finger as I skate away. Teammates, what can you do? I love to hate them.
I throw my arm across Riggs’ shoulder. “I don’t like that bitch,” she grumbles as we skate in harmony towards the exit between the player’s benches.
“I’d be more surprised if you said you liked her. There aren't many people you tolerate,” I joke. I wasn’t even joking honestly. Riggs was a tough nut to crack, she didn’t like many people.
College had been great so far, for us both. I managed to get along with everyone on the team, and classes were running smoothly. I was excited to see what the new competition collegiate level sports were going to bring me.
Riggs was enjoying the parties, the experience, the freedom, but there were days I worried. Most of the time she was up and ready to go by five in the morning. She’d go all day with this positive energy, bouncing around, smartass comments, her normal self. But there were days when she’d roll out of bed late, and getting ready seemed like a task too difficult for her.
On those days I tried not to comment on it. I just make her coffee extra strong and treat her to lunch. I knew her parents were being more prominent assholes than usual, mostly because she vented about it once a month when she had to attend their family dinners. I’d tried for months to get her to stop going, but something in her wouldn’t let her give up on her family.
“I guess that makes me pretty special, huh?” I say bumping her shoulder as we walk into the locker room, moving towards our lockers that stand side by side. She rolls her eyes, taking her helmet off, and laying it inside the space.
I toss my gloves and start to slowly work the laces of my skates so I can slip my feet out of them.
“It makes you something, alright.” A smile adorns her features as she follows my movements. I’d do just about anything to get my best friend to smile, because when she did, it nearly blinded people.
“I vote we go to the dorm, order take out, and rewatch a TV series on Netflix,” I suggest, taking my hair out of the braid it was in. Messy waves fall down my shoulders; I can only imagine how frizzy it is. Times like this I wish I had Riggs’ pixie cut. I tug my practice jersey and pads off in one go leaving me in a sports bra.
“Sorry, my little lion.” She ruffles my hair like I’m a child. “I have a date tonight. I haven’t been laid in a month, and my pussy is angry with me.”
I cough, choking on my spit at her bluntness. Always honest. Always Riggs. She laughs at me, removing the rest of her equipment with me. Until we are both standing in sports bras and spandex.
“Are you going to let this one have a second date?” I ask, lifting my eyebrow, already knowing the answer to that question. A grin sets on my lips, awaiting her response.
“Sully, honey. Do we remember my rules?” she coos sweetly, the hint of southern showing in her voice from her mother's side. “No feelings, no sleepovers, and no second dates. Simple rules men must abide by if they want a piece of this.” She gestures to her body, which is always banging. She gives me a side-eye before talking again.
“Plus…” She clicks her tongue. “You spent yesterday at the dorm, which means tonight is your night to shave your legs, and stay the night at Prince Charming's castle or,” She looks at me, pursing her lips. “I should say dungeon,” she snips, and my stomach swoops.