Winging It (2 page)

Chapter Three

Nat

There were three indoor ice rinks in Corrigan Falls: the fancy one at the big arena, where the Raiders practiced and played, and two others at the community center, for everyone else. The Raiders’ arena had seats for almost four thousand fans, and they sold out nearly all of their games. The community center had a few rows of wood-and-concrete bleachers, generally with a couple dozen parents sitting on them, poking at their phones and catching up on gossip while the kids played.

That was where I worked as a referee. I’d been thrilled when I got the job, but it was definitely still small-time. Toby and I had started playing hockey the same year for the same team, and for quite a while we’d taken turns being the season’s top scorer. Then puberty hit, and he got bigger and stronger and faster practically overnight. Suddenly we were playing on different teams, and he was on his way to the pros. I wasn’t. So, reffing was a good job, sure, but it wasn’t like being a Raider.

I made it to the center more or less on time and headed for the locker room. I had to wear almost as much equipment to ref for a bunch of eight-year-olds as I did to actually play against adult women. But I was getting paid for being on the ice, so that was something.

And I managed to keep my mind on the two games I worked, mostly because I knew the parents who didn’t
seem
to be paying attention would get pretty damn involved if they decided they didn’t like my calls.

But as soon as I was off the ice, sitting in the change room pulling off my skates, it hit me. I’d done it. Without getting Toby’s permission first, which wasn’t great, but I didn’t really think he’d mind. Toby and I had a history of getting each other into and out of all kinds of mischief. Still, I was a little tense as I pulled out my phone and hit his number.

He picked up after the first ring. “What the hell, Nat?”

“Yeah, sorry. I should have talked to you first. I was going to, but he just showed up. So I went for it.”

“Went for what?” He didn’t sound mad, exactly, but he sure didn’t seem happy.

I took a deep breath. “I need a favor.”

“Nat, I already know this is a bad plan.”

“You don’t even know what it is!” Where was Toby, my partner in crime?

“I’ve been thinking about it for a few hours now.” He sounded tired. “I have a pretty clear idea. And Scott’s involved, so there’s really no way it could be a
good
plan.”

“Okay, your family issues are none of my business. But, seriously, I think this will be fine.” Toby and I were a good team; we could make it work.

“Spell it out for me. I want you to hear just how stupid this is.”

“Come on, Toby.” He didn’t say anything. The bastard was going to make me do it. Well, I wasn’t one to back down from a challenge. “You and Scott are competitive. He kept trying to get with Dawn when she was dating you. So if he thinks
I’m
dating you, he’ll try to get with me. Simple.”

“Stupid, you mean.”

“What? Why?” I stood up and started pacing around the locker room in my sweaty gear. Maybe I should have waited and had this conversation in person, but Toby and I didn’t really get much in-person time anymore.

And I didn’t need to see him to know the expression he’d have on his face as he said, “It’s stupid because Scott doesn’t live in a cave. He’ll talk to other people, and they’ll tell him we’re not dating. And it’s stupid because there’s no guarantee he’d go after you just because he went after Dawn. I mean, she and I spent a lot of time together, and he was there for quite a bit of it. It’s not like he saw her with me one time and decided to move in.” He paused almost long enough for me to start with my counterarguments, but then he added, “Mostly, though, it’s stupid because he’s an asshole. So even if it
did
work, what would you have, exactly? Some asshole interested in you? Big deal.”

“You’re the only one who thinks he’s an asshole.”

“Really? Have you talked to Dawn about him?”

“Okay, but Dawn’s just following your lead.”

“You think she needs me to tell her that some guy coming on to her as a way to get back at her boyfriend is an asshole? You think she can’t figure that out for herself?” I heard a creaking noise and I knew exactly where he was: sitting in his grandfather’s old office chair in his bedroom, leaning back, probably with his feet up on his desk. How many times had he and I raced each other up the stairs to his bedroom, body checking and wrestling on our way, trying to get there first in order to win the privilege of sitting in that creaky, uncomfortable old thing?

But that wasn’t what I was supposed to be thinking about. “Okay, fine, you and Dawn don’t like him. But
everyone else in the world
does, including me. So…yeah. If the plan works, I’d be happy. And there’s no reason it can’t work! You and I just need to spend a bit more time together and make sure he sees us. And everyone else…we can tell them we were keeping it quiet so it wouldn’t be weird. Right? I mean, we weren’t sure how it would work out, we didn’t want to make a big fuss, so we were quiet about it. People would believe that. You’re not dating anyone else, are you?”

He didn’t answer right away but finally said, “I’m not dating anyone. But, no, I’m not going along with your plan. Because even if you don’t believe any of those really good reasons why it’s a bad idea? I still don’t want to do it, because I don’t want to let that asswipe think he’s beaten me! I mean, if he ‘steals’ you from me, he wins, right? I lose? Fuck that, no way!”

Okay, I admit I hadn’t thought about that. Really, I guess I hadn’t thought about any of this all that much. I’d gotten the inspiration, I’d acted, and now I was trying to figure everything out afterward. “He wouldn’t
really
be winning,” I tried. “I mean, you’d be fooling him, right? He just wouldn’t know it. You’d have a little secret. That might be fun?”

“No, it wouldn’t be fun. I want to beat him, and I want him to
know
I’m beating him.”

This wasn’t good. Not good at all. “You could tell him eventually. Or
I
could.” Like when we were on our honeymoon in the Caribbean, I’d mention it and we’d both have a good laugh. “Once he gets to know me, like, for
me
. I mean, this is really only going to work if he ends up liking me in the end, right? This is just a strategy for getting his attention, a way to cut past all the
other
girls who want to be with him.”

“All the other stupid girls, you mean?”

“Come on, Toby. Help out an old friend. Be a pal.”

He was quiet for way too long, and then he said, “If I do it, you give me the trophy.”

“What?” I honestly thought I must have misheard him.

“The trophy. If I do this…we pretend to be going out, for a maximum of two weeks. And then, assuming this works and Scott makes his move, you have another two weeks of him thinking he won before you tell him the truth. You can tell him nicely, your way, or I’ll tell him my way. And no matter what—if the first two weeks don’t work and he doesn’t make a move, or if he dumps you after he finds out, or whatever—you give me the trophy.”

It would have been easier if I’d been able to pretend I didn’t know what he was talking about, but I did. The last year we’d been on the same team together, when we were thirteen years old, we’d tied as team MVPs. One trophy, with both our names on it, but the coach had given it to me. He’d said something patronizing about how Toby would have plenty of chances to win more trophies in the future and this would mean more to me than it ever would to him.

Patronizing, but it had ended up being true. Toby’s hockey career had taken off, and mine had gotten stuck in neutral. The trophy
didn’t
mean much to him; it couldn’t, not with all the other hardware he’d taken home over the years. But to me, it was the last time I’d really been proud of myself on the ice.

And now Toby wanted to take it away. “
Why?
” I said, then cleared my throat and said, “I mean, why do you want it?”

“Why do you want
Scott
?”

I didn’t really have an answer for that, at least not one that I’d share with Toby. “I have to think about it,” I said. “The trophy, not why I want Scott. I’ll… Can I call you tomorrow, before school? And if I say yes, can you drive me to school? That would look good, right?”

“You’re honestly considering it? You’d trade the trophy for this? For him?”

“Maybe.” I wasn’t sure I believed it, either, but…yeah, maybe I needed to stop holding on to the past. “I’ll call you in the morning and tell you whether to come by or not, okay?”

“I can just give you a ride anyway, if you want.”

“No, it’s fine.” Because Toby had practice in the mornings and I didn’t, so he’d be fresh off the rink, all tired and happy, and I’d be…nothing.

But I couldn’t explain that to him, and he apparently couldn’t figure it out for himself. “Because if I don’t agree to help you with Scott, you won’t even ride in the same car as me?”

“Because I’m too tired for this crap,” I said. It made sense to me, at least. “I’ll call you tomorrow. ’Bye.”

I hung up and then flopped down on the wooden bench that ran around the sides of the room. The trophy. Could I give up the trophy?

I looked around the locker room, saw the battered wood and wrinkled paint, the hooks that had held pads and jerseys for countless hockey players. So many people had passed through this room, played the game for a while, and then moved on. I was just one of a long line. Nothing special. Hanging on to that trophy, treating it like it
meant
something? Maybe that was kind of pathetic.

Maybe it was time to let go of those childish dreams. I wasn’t a hockey player anymore, not really. So I needed to be something else. I needed to move on. And moving on with a guy like Scott Dakins? Well, I could think of worse directions to choose, that was for sure.

Chapter Four

Toby

I wanted to call Dawn. She knew Scott, she knew Nat, and technically we’d stayed friends after the breakup, so I should have been able to talk to her. But she’d made it pretty clear that the best way for me to be her friend was to leave her the hell alone, so…no bedtime phone calls.

I couldn’t bring this up with any of the guys, either. It was just too weird. And most of them
liked
Scott, so they couldn’t really be trusted to keep a secret like this, assuming there was a secret to be kept. I was still hoping Nat would change her mind about it all; I was honestly kind of stunned that she was even thinking about giving up the trophy.

So I went to bed without talking to anyone, made it through practice the next morning by keeping my attention on the ice where it belonged, and then went back to the change room to find a voicemail from Nat on my phone.

“I’m in,” she said, and I could hear the determination in her voice. Once Nat decided on something, that was it; she would make it happen. “Come pick me up on the way to school. I’ll give you the trophy then.”

I felt like a jerk, of course. The stupid trophy meant nothing to me, and for some reason it was really important to her. I used to catch her looking at it sometimes, and every time I did I was proud of myself for not fighting her for it. It felt good to have been part of giving her something she cared about. I’d honestly thought she’d turn me down when I made the price so high, but she’d called my bluff.

And the more I thought about it, the more I thought maybe I
should
take the trophy. I mean, assuming this plan worked, her stupid crush was going to cost me a lot. My pride, for sure,
and
my friendship with her, because there was no way I was going to hang out with someone who was dating Scott.
Not that you hang out with her anyway
, a little voice whispered, but I ignored it. Just because I didn’t actively spend time with her didn’t mean I hadn’t enjoyed having the
option
of spending time with her.

If she started going out with Scott, that door was closing, forever. And if I was going to lose that, then she should lose something, too. Since she obviously didn’t care too much about throwing away our friendship, I’d take something she
did
care about. Yeah, I was taking the trophy. If she’d thought I’d been joking, she’d thought wrong.

I showered faster than usual and left while the other guys were still getting dressed and shooting the shit. When I pulled into Nat’s driveway, she was waiting just inside her front door, and I had a little flash of déjà vu. How many times had I been here, usually in the passenger seat with one of my parents behind the wheel, picking Nat up for hockey or whatever else we’d done together?

And Nat was always waiting in that same spot by the door. Her mom was a social worker and got called out at a lot of weird hours, so she couldn’t do as much driving as the other parents had done. She’d gone way over the top in making it clear to Nat that she had to be super courteous and never inconvenience anyone kind enough to chauffeur her around.

Now, Nat the Punctual jogged down the walkway between the tall piles of snow, pulled the car door open, and slid into her seat. “Been a while since I’ve been in this car,” she said. I was driving my mom’s old Corolla. “And I used to be in the backseat, usually.”

I didn’t want to think about how our brains still ran along the same paths, so instead I said, “It’ll mean something a bit different now if you start talking about how much time you’ve spent in the backseat of my car.”

She frowned, just for a second, and I honestly hoped she was realizing what a stupid idea all this was. Instead, she nodded as if confirming something to herself, then reached into her knapsack and pulled out a bundle that could only be the trophy, wrapped up in a couple plastic grocery bags. She shoved it toward me without looking in my direction.

“You’re sure about this?” I asked, still hoping she’d back down.

She nodded, keeping her gaze on her boots.

“Okay.” And then I guess the devil sneaked out from wherever I usually kept him tied up. I took the trophy in my left hand and reached out for her with my right. She jerked a little when my hand wrapped around the back of her neck and turned to stare at me with big, round eyes. “We’re a couple now, right?” I tried to make it sound casual, as if my heart wasn’t thudding like just before taking a penalty shot. “So, don’t you think we should get comfortable with each other? Shouldn’t I get a good-morning kiss?”

“There’s no one here to see!” she said, sounding young and kind of lost, and again I felt bad for half a second before remembering that this was all her idea and
she
was the one using
me
.

“But you want it to look natural when there
is
someone, don’t you? I mean, if we’re doing this, we have to really go for it. Scott’s an asshole, but he’s not blind.”

There was a moment when she looked totally vulnerable and unsure, but then that old West determination kicked in. “Right,” she said, and she jerked her head in what I guess was supposed to be a nod. “Okay.” A deep breath, and then she reached up and pushed my hand in tight against her neck again. “Like this?”

I tried to pull my hand away, because, no, not like that. I wasn’t against the idea of kissing her. Not at all, I realized. But not like that.

Of course, I’d forgotten who I was dealing with. Nat held on, gripping tight enough that I thought I might hurt her if I pulled away. And we sat frozen like that, staring at each other, both waiting for the other’s will to collapse.

“You were right,” she said. “We need to make it look real. It shouldn’t look like our first kiss if someone sees us together.”

“Well, technically you kissed me yesterday, so ‘first kiss’ is already off the table.”

“Well, technically you kissed me in kindergarten. Like, constantly. You were the kissing bandit that year, remember?”

I relaxed a little. “Not really. But my mom is happy to give me reminders when she thinks I need them.”

“So yesterday was hardly our first kiss. You and me have history, buddy.”

“Me and most of the girls in kindergarten that year, I guess.”

“Some of the guys, too, I think. But none of them are here with you right now. Just you and me.”

Nat couldn’t flirt. At least, I’d never seen her do it, and I wasn’t seeing her do it right then, either. She was just being honest. None of those other people
were
with me. She was. And when she squeezed my hand and leaned toward me, I leaned in, too.

We met somewhere over the gearshift. It wasn’t a great kiss…we were both too tense, and the whole thing felt unnatural. Well, not exactly. In a way, it felt
too
natural, but that kind of freaked me out and made me self-conscious. After a few awkward seconds, I leaned away. But she didn’t let me go far.

“We need to do better than that,” she whispered.

I think it was the “we” that made me relax. Yeah, this was a weird situation, but it was still just me and Nat. The two of us had been a team for a long time and we still could be; we just needed to remember how.

“We need to loosen up a bit,” I suggested.

“I don’t like your hand there, on my neck. That’s where you always touched Dawn when you kissed her.”

Nat had noticed how I kissed Dawn? “So…do you not want me to touch you at all? Or just somewhere else?”

“I don’t know.” She looked at me thoughtfully. “It’s weird because we’re sitting down,” she decided. “Get out of the car.”

I really didn’t think sitting was the weirdest thing about what we were doing, but I got out of the car anyway, and when I saw her heading around the front, I met her partway. We stood there, facing each other in that familiar driveway, with the snow falling in big, gentle flakes, and everything felt totally familiar and totally new, all at the same time.

I managed to catch myself before my hand lifted to her neck, and I found her waist instead. She didn’t seem to mind that, and even with her bulky winter coat, I could feel a bit of a curve and imagined how soft her skin would be underneath all the layers of clothing.

She raised her chin, I lowered mine, and this time I just let myself feel what we were doing. I forgot about pretending, forgot about Scott, about Nat’s ridiculous plan, and after about two seconds I forgot about the snow and the driveway and getting to school and pretty much everything else. It was just me and Nat—
Nat
, of all people—our lips, our breath, and our bodies leaning together.

Nat jerked her head away, leaving me so disoriented I almost staggered, and it was only then I noticed the car pulling into the driveway next to mine. Nat’s mom was behind the wheel, staring at us with a completely unreadable expression on her face.

“Shit,” Nat whispered. She stepped backward, hit a slippery patch and flailed a little, trying to get her balance back. I reached out to steady her, but she jerked her arm away, and then her feet slipped more, pushing forward right into mine. I’m honestly not sure of the exact sequence of events after that, but there was more slipping, a bit of swearing, and then Nat was flat on her back on the driveway with me pulled down almost on top of her. I’d caught myself with a knee between her legs and my hands on either side of her head, and if she’d given me one tiny bit of encouragement I would have lowered myself the rest of the way and gone for the full-body contact, whether her mom was watching us or not.

But Nat didn’t look encouraging. She frowned up at me and said, “That wasn’t too smooth. We need to get better.”

Just like that, we were back to her goals, her plan, and her incredibly stupid crush on my asshole cousin. I managed to get to my feet without slipping and falling on her then stood back and let her figure her own balance out for herself.

As soon as she was upright, she shot a breezy wave toward her mom, who had managed to make it out of the car but was still staring at us, apparently with nothing to say. “Gotta go!” Nat called. “Don’t want to be late for school.”

I took my cue and headed for my seat, a cautious nod toward Nat’s mom as I went. She and I had always gotten along really well, back when she’d seen me as a guy her daughter
hung
out with, not a guy her daughter
made
out with. Probably different standards would apply now.

But she let us go, at least for right then. I heard her say something about being careful because the roads were icy, and then I had my door shut and was backing out of the driveway.

We drove quietly to the end of the block, and then, while we were sitting at the stop sign, I caught Nat giving me a look and turned to stare at her head-on. She shrugged. “I think we can do this,” she said. “Everything’s going to work out just fine.”

I wasn’t so sure, but I didn’t argue. What exactly was there for me to say? And was there any point in trying to sound calm and logical when I was still totally off balance from the kiss? Those had been
West’s
lips welcoming mine, West’s body pressed against me, and it had felt way, way better than it should have. No, I wasn’t going to argue with her, or say anything, really. Not until I got my feet planted and figured out what the hell was going on.