The Puck Drop by Jaqueline Snowe

CHAPTER EIGHT

Naomi

My roommates Mona and Kellie took their trivia seriously. They reminded me of Michael and his constant state of competitiveness. My face flushed. Five days since our almost kiss and he crossed my mind no less than a million times. That was a statistical fact too.

“Are you paying attention to the rules? Come on, Fletch,” Mona said, elbowing me as the trivia master asked the question at Triv Tavern, the hipster bar on the west side of campus. Old-school video games covered the walls, and cassette tapes were passed around like candy. The question was something about movies, and Kellie was our movie guru. Her photographic memory almost felt like cheating, but it felt really good when we got matching t-shirts and a hundred dollar gift card to come back.

“It’s While You Were Sleeping. Trust me. My mom is obsessed,” she said, whispering as she yanked the pencil out of Mona’s hands. Our fourth roommate, Lilly, met my eyes and smirked. 

Our team, the KLMNs due to our alphabetized names, was ahead by ten points, but our rivals, Quiz in my Pants, were intent on beating us. We’d attended Wednesday night trivia every week at Triv Tavern, minus holidays since last year. It was our tradition and something I’d miss after we all graduated and grew up.

“I fucking knew it!” Mona shouted after the question master said the answer. One of the Quiz in my Pants guys flipped her off, and soon enough, it was the next round.

We weren’t allowed phones during the question part because it’d be so easy to cheat, but that didn’t mean the missed calls from my sister weren’t weighing on my chest. She’d called four times since the diner. She thought we should talk. To meet up. To discuss Gage.

I wasn’t sure I wanted to.  It’d change everything, and that unknown held me back. Now, I at least knew not to trust her. Opening the drama up? Having feelings all out in the open? Confronting her and acknowledging the pain she’d caused? I understood what that added up to, and no thanks. It’d hurt.

“Dude, you should know this one. If you flip a fair coin four times, what is the probability that it’ll have at least one head?” Mona said to me, her authoritative voice making me sit up straighter.

I went through the mental math. “15/16.”

“Sweet. Thanks, brain.”

“You’re welcome, heart,” I said, repeating our constant joke. Lilly was the hormones, I was the brain, Mona was the heart, and Kellie was the stomach. That girl could cook. Together, we were the perfect human.

We finished the first round when the doors chimed. Out of habit, I looked up, and my breath caught in my throat at the sight of Michael Reiner and a guy who looked very much like Clark Kent. Memories of that almost kiss flashed through me—the way his lips were just a hair apart from mine, the weight of his hands on my hips. His soft breath tickling my face at how close we were. I swore my body remembered the heat radiating off him, and I clenched my legs together. Mm. I liked it way more than I should.

Michael looked around the bar, his face lighting up with amusement when his gaze landed on me. He widened his eyes and flashed me the biggest smile before he winked.

“Um, hi, what the fuck is going on?” Mona asked, leaning closer to me and eyeing Michael. She waved at him, making my face flush, and he waved back. “Why is he winking at us?”

“Me. He’s winking at me.” Wow, that felt weird to say.

Mona blinked a few times and bent toward me. So close, her mouth almost touched my face. She had issues with boundaries. “Why? I want one.”

Clark Kent guided Michael to another table on the other side of the bar where two other guys sat with their backs to us. Michael positioned himself so I got a full view of him, and boy, he looked smug.

And happy to see me. My heart sped up seeing joy on his face, all because of me.

Which was also weird.

“If you don’t explain what’s happening, I’m going to throw a fit. A full, embarrassing fit,” Mona said, pointing to Michael across the room. I swatted her hand down as my face burned. “We saw how hot he was, but here he is flirting with you. A hockey player.”

“Mona, my god. We’re friends.”

“Friends don’t wink at each other, girl.”

“Yes they do. We should all do that more,” I said, winking at Kellie, Lilly, then Mona. Kellie ate it up and tried returning the gesture, but it looked like she had something in her eye. “Okay, I take it back.”

“I don’t care that he’s a hockey dude,” Kellie said, her eyes dimming a bit. She knew my aversion to athletes, especially hockey players. “If a man looked at me that way, I’d do just about anything.”

“He’s not a hockey dude… He’s interning. I think he wants to be a coach,” I said, my face hot enough to melt butter. Michael kept glancing over here, and each time, my stomach swooped.

“Interesting,” Kellie said. “That is definitely one of your rules. NEVER DATE A HOCKEY COACH.”

“I’m aware,” I said, hating the way my body clenched with regret.

“Wait, did he break any of the cardinal no-nos?” she asked, hope laced in her voice.

“I mean, we haven’t even kissed, so rule three is unclear.” The orgasm rule. “He was nice to waitstaff and doesn’t talk too much, but he could be a serial dater. I honestly don’t know. Ladies, look,” I said, taking a deep breath and hating how red my face got. “We’re friends, and while I’m attracted to him, I know better than to go down this route. I’ll end up getting hurt, and it’d be safer to just remain friends.”

“Maybe friends with benefits, hm?” Kellie said, turning over her shoulder to ogle him.

Of course, Michael stared right back, amused as hell.  How can I explain this to him?

“I can’t… do that,” I said, my face getting even redder. At this point, I might as well burst into flames. I adjusted the denim shirt I wore to let some air in, but it didn’t help. Not that it mattered, but I looked cute tonight. Fun headband with a knot right on the top, my favorite denim shirt, and my black jeans that made me feel confident.

If I were to run into Michael, I’d want to wear this. But as I said, it didn’t matter.

“Okay, nerds, we’re starting round two. The theme is sports.”

A collective groan went through the place from everyone but Michael. He let out a whoop, and Clark Kent patted him on the back. This would happen because he showed up. The karma gods were at work for Michael, and I found myself grinning when he met my eyes and mouthed ‘Game on.’

Maybe I was more competitive than I thought.

“First question: What is Canada’s national sport?”

Lacrosse. I knew that one. Everyone assumed it was hockey, but it wasn’t. “Hey, give me the pen.”

I wrote it down and winked at Michael. I bet he put hockey.

“Question two: Scottie Pippen has a word tattooed on his forearm. What does it say?”

“Who the fuck would know this?” Mona said, growling as she scanned each of our faces. “Should I know this name?”

“Chicago Bulls. Early 90s. Come on,” Lilly said, taking the pencil. “My dad is legit obsessed with that team. We have posters all over our basement, and he rewatches the games every time he can. His tattoo says Pip.”

“And you know this because…” Kellie asked the question I was thinking.

“Because I’ve stared at that poster in our basement for twenty years.”

She jotted the answer down.

“Question three: Who was the last NHL player to leave the league without having used a helmet?”

“Fletcher, this one is you!”

I squeezed my eyes shut, unable to summon a single name that could be the answer. I was really letting my middle name legacy down.  I shrugged, my stomach tightening with defeat. “I’m sorry, I’m not sure.”

“Ugh, your boy sure does.”

He wasn’t my boy, but her meaning was clear. Michael grinned and wrote the answer for his team, somehow looking hot and annoying at the same time.

“Question four: This basketball move was banned from the years 1967 to 1976. What was it?”

“Lilly, you’re the resident basketball guru now,” Mona said. “What was the move? A dribble? Fuck. I don’t even know why people play basketball.” Mona shoved the pencil toward Kellie.

“Shit, I don’t know.” She frowned and scrubbed her hands over her face. “Slam dunk?”

“I’m writing it. I hate not even guessing,” Mona said, drawing attention from the table next to us. I shushed my friend.

The last four questions were about soccer—a sport none of us had ties to, and we turned in our card with all our hopes crushed. If Michael got all of them and gambled with the double-double, earning twice the points, they could tie with us.

That wouldn’t do.

At least we could count on our rivals not knowing anything about sports. They were self-proclaimed nerds.

“Five minute break before round three, people. Get drinks, use the pisser, and hustle back!” the game host said.

I jumped out of my chair at the same time Michael did, and we met somewhere in the middle. He wore fitted jeans, a long-sleeve blue shirt that said CENTRAL on the front, and a backwards hat. His hair escaped from the hat on the sides, and his blue eyes sparkled at me, making my tongue feel two sizes too big for my mouth.

All from eye contact.

I was in TROUBLE.

“That last round make you sweat?” he asked, his gaze moving from my face to my shirt and legs. It was a quick perusal, but I swear my skin prickled from his attention.

“Yes, it did.”

“I knew you were competitive. Hm, dare I say we make another wager?”

“At this point, I’ve lost track of how many we have going on.” My voice came out all flirty and deep, and I stared at the curve of his mouth.  We almost kissed.

“Three, if we count tonight. The data versus knowing people debacle, which I’ll win. Then, the tripping count, which you’re already losing big time, and then this one.” He laughed and tugged on the end of my ponytail. “I want you to take a photo with the school mascot at the next game if I win.”

“Hell no,” I fired back. “When we win, you have to do a PowerPoint presentation on your favorite number.”

“Easy. Sixty nine.” He replied so fast I snorted. He caught my eye, and we shared a laugh for a good thirty seconds before he stepped closer to me. “So, your friends were looking at me like I was your show and tell.”

“Right. Ignore them. It’d be easier,” I said, my shoulders sagging. “They were just...it’s not often I’m friendly with guys like you.”

“Like me.” He frowned and picked his hat up off his head before running his fingers through his hair. God, it was so thick. I wanted to touch it, feel how soft it was.

I cleared my throat, my stomach sinking at his expression. “Hockey player, sorry. Not… not that there’s anything wrong with you. You’re perfect. Perfectly fine.” Sweet mother, I was embarrassing myself. “I just don’t associate with hockey guys. Ever.”

He narrowed his eyes just a bit. “Because of your dad.”

“Yes.”

“And you think I’m perfect.”

“Shut up.” I swatted at his arm, and my touch lingered for just a moment, but we both noticed. I dropped my hand like he caught fire and stepped back. “I meant that you’re just… ugh.”

“I’m teasing you. Fletcher. It’s so easy.” He grinned at me again, the absolute joy radiating from him like a sun while I was a measly planet. My heart thudded against my ribcage just as the game host announced a one-minute warning. “Get ready to lose,” he said, the tone right between flirty and competitive. I chose to assume he just wanted to win because my brain would catch fire if I thought about him flirting with me.

“You get ready,” I said, sounding like a total idiot. “Game on, Reiner.”

* * *

Our team got third place. The next round was all geography which was another weakness. Quiz in our Pants won the gift card this week, and Michael’s team, Let’s Get Quizzical got second.  We groaned at the point totals, but if I were honest with myself, seeing Michael’s face was worth it. He looked gleeful as both our tables finished our drinks and started walking out of the trivia bar. Mona stayed right next to my side, and the second Michael was in reach, she held out her hand.

“Hey there, I’m Mona, this one’s best friend.”

“Hi, Mona,” Michael said, his smile slipping into the charming guy I saw that first night. “You made a great choice in friends.”

“I really did. I appreciate you acknowledging it.” Mona introduced Kellie and Lilly as I stood there, watching my two worlds collide. It wasn’t as catastrophic as I imagined it’d be.

A jock and some nerds. Proud nerds, at that.

“This is Freddie the Fourth and his brother, Camden, and cousin, Kyle.” Michael put a hand on Freddie’s shoulder. “This big guy is my roommate and brought me here. I’m glad he did though. Say, I can’t wait to cash in on our bet.”

“Oh, what bet?” Kellie asked, her already too-wide eyes growing by the second.

“She has to take a photo with the school mascot at the home game Friday and do the pose I tell her.”

“Hey, that wasn’t part of the deal,” I said, already imagining him making me do some dumb hand gesture.

“Shouldn’t have lost then.” His eyes flashed with amusement, and I stuck my tongue out at him.

He laughed. “See you Friday, Fletcher.”

It was a simple statement, but my entire body warmed like it was a personal invitation. I met his gaze and said back, “You sure will.”

He left with his friends, and right as they turned the corner, my roommates lost it in a flurry of giggles.

“Oh my god, he’s so hot.”

“Did I see tattoos?”

“I’d sit on his face any day of the week.”

I laughed with them, but it was Kellie’s comment that stuck with me throughout the night.

“He looked at you like you were a snack. You don’t stand a chance, Naomi. Might as well accept you’ll bang him soon.”