Fallon: And fine. Ollie looks good. His personality sucks, but he has a nice face.
Em: And a killer body. You should console him after the shitty practice. Offer him a backrub or a dickrub.
Fallon: Oh. My. God. You are feral. I swear Mom found you in the woods and brought you home because you’re cute.
Em: Can you blame her? Speaking of…I’ve got to go. I’ve got a chem test this week and she’s my study buddy.
Fallon: Love you both.
When the excruciating practice is over, I follow the girls out of the arena. It’s a little too early to head home, so when Josie insists I join the team for wings at Wolfie’s, I don’t protest.
But maybe I should have. The bar is crowded, and I can feel the vibrations of the too-loud music. It’s giving me a headache. The food is good, but the company is lackluster.
Because yes, we have a table with twenty seats and Ollie Jablonski chose to sit in the seat next to me.
I’m ignoring him in favor of my dinner, but that won’t last long. I’m down to a half-eaten chicken wing and two fries. The burnt ones. Yuck. I push my empty basket aside and reach for my wallet. Out of the corner of my eye, I watch as Ollie waves me off.
“I’ve got it,” he says, signing as he speaks. When we met two years ago, I didn’t know he was fluent in ASL, but the mancould give freaking lessons. And don’t tell him I said this, but I like how he signs even when I have my hearing aids in or we’re close enough to hear each other talk. Despite what a lot of people thing, my hearing aids don’t magically restore my hearing. They amplify sound enough that my brain can process it, but the way I “hear” is different than the way most people do. For some reason, Ollie’s attuned to that, and I appreciate it.
Actually, he could give lessons on a lot of things.
You don’t need to pay for my dinner, I sign.This isn’t a date.
“It could be,” he answers back with an exaggerated wink.
“If you pick Wolfie’s as your first date destination, then you don’t just suck at hockey, you suck at life.”The words fly off my hands and into the universe before I can catch them. Crap. That was a little harsh. True, but harsh.
Ollie winces. “Okay, tonight was rough. But you don’t understand. These guys are dicks. They were our biggest rivals and now they’re our teammates. It fucking blows.”
I frown as my fingers begin to move. “So? Unless you all start playing with each other instead of against each other, you won’t make it as far as regionals. Besides, in professional hockey, aren’t guys traded all the time? So, doesn’t that mean they have to share the line with guys who used to be their opponents?”
Ollie blinks at me, almost as though this logic hasn’t occurred to him yet. Just as the realization dawns though, his expression shutters. “It’s not the same,” he tells me, his lips and fingers moving rapidly.
Before I can formulate an answer, he stands and tosses a few bills on the table. “It’s my turn for darts,”he says.“Have a good night, Fallon.”
I sign back the same, but he’s already walking in the other direction.
What the hell just happened? Why is the hockey team’s jester suddenly acting like a prick?
And more importantly, why do I care?
I may not be religious, much to my grandparents’ dismay, but I firmly believe that donuts are a gift from the heavens. They have divine powers, and you can’t convince me otherwise.
At least, I hope they do, because I need all the help I can get right now. It’s been a few days since I walked in on Kendra and her boyfriend christening the living room and I can’t keep living like this. Not only do I fear the presence of bodily fluids on every communal surface, but I miss my friend. Kendra was fun last year. We didn’t spend every waking second together, but when we had movie nights or study sessions or coffee dates at Drip, it was always a good time.
Things are different since Kendra decided to glue herself to Cody after two months of dating, but that doesn’t mean they have to be bad.
Different can be good. At least, with some ground rules.
Things between us have been awkward since I caught their make out session on the counter, but when I suggested that we sit down and talk it out, she agreed. I figured sugar is a good foundation for a tough conversation, so I strolled downtown for a box of donuts.
Plus, I’ve been in a crabby mood since I ran into Ollie at Wolfie’s last night, so these sugary delights have to work double duty.
When I let myself into the apartment, Kendra’s in the kitchen making coffee.
This has to be a good sign. What goes better together than donuts and coffee. That’s right, nothing. Our brainsare obviously in sync. I feel my shoulders visibly relax. I’m not fooling myself that this conversation is going to be easy, but I’ve got a feeling that it’s going to work out.
Setting the box of treats on the counter, I turn toward Kendra. “The coffee smells amazing,” I say. Kendra knows a few ASL signs, but not enough to have a full conversation, so when we’re together, I make sure to have my hearing aids in and to follow her face so I can read her lips.
