by Carly Syms
I narrow my eyes. "What do you mean, not terrible? It's one of the best books ever written."
He drops onto the patio couch opposite mine uninvited, but for some reason I don't mind. "I'm not so sure about that. I can think of a dozen other books I liked better than that one."
"Name them."
"All of them?"
"Some."
"The Catcher in the Rye, The Great Gatsby, Crime and Punishment, Wayne Gretzky's autobiography."
I roll my eyes but laugh. Even I know Gretzky is a hockey god, one of the best to ever play the game.
"I didn't like The Catcher in the Rye."
He turns his head to the side and raises an eyebrow. "I think you're the first person I've met who doesn't love Holden Caufield."
I shrug. "He just doesn't do it for me."
"So who does?"
"My book boyfriend is totally Sherlock Holmes." I clap my hand over my mouth the second the words leave my lips; I can't believe I've just admitted that to him. I haven't admitted that to anybody, ever.
Shane's eyes are wide and sparkling with the revelation. "Did you just say what I think you just said?"
"No." I shake my head adamantly.
"Oh, yes, you did," he says. "You definitely did. Sherlock Holmes, huh? What about him gets you going?"
I put my head in my hands but can only laugh. "It must be the British accent."
"All right, all right, I'll let it go," Shane says. "But I didn't expect that from you."
"Now it's only fair you tell me your book girlfriend."
"I've never thought about that."
"So do it now."
"I liked the actress in the Price and Prejudice movie. Does that count?"
"Did you read the book?"
"Actually, yeah. Elizabeth was pretty cool. I'd be okay with a lady like that. She's beautiful and smart and witty and not afraid to say what's on her mind. Yeah. Definitely Elizabeth."
"Interesting."
"Who'd you get for English that assigned that book?" Shane asks, nodding at my copy of Wuthering Heights laying closed on my lap.
"Oh, no one. I'm just reading it again for fun."
"You do that a lot?"
"Reading kind of became my thing when I spent so much time by the pool. I've always had my nose buried in a book."
"That's cool. I've never had much time for it. Hockey always kind of ruled my day."
"You don't do anything else?"
"Well, I didn't say that," he replies with a smile. "I like video games."
"Of course you do."
"And I like foreign movies," he goes on like I haven't spoken. "Especially French films."
I almost have to do a double take I'm so surprised by what he's telling me. "You speak French?"
"Je suis décent à elle," he says in what sounds to my untrained ear like a perfect Parisian accent.
"Say something else!"
He laughs. "Tu n'es pas si mauvais, Natalie."
"What does that mean?" I ask eagerly.
"Oh no," he says, shaking his head. "That's my secret."
"Cheater."
He shrugs. "Those are my rules."
"How long have you been speaking French?"
"Since I was a kid. My mom grew up in the south of France so she raised me on both languages."
"I'm impressed."
"See?" he teases. "I'm not just some dumb jock who sits around playing video games all day."
I blush. "I didn't say that!"
"No, but you thought it."
"Maybe I did."
"I'll try not to be offended," he says. "What are you doing this weekend?"
My breath catches in my throat and I knock the book onto the ground for the second time tonight.
He grins and bends down and hands it back to me. "Careful there," he says.
"Oops," I finally manage to squeak out. "Thanks. I'll try to stop doing that."
"So about what I was saying," he says. "Plans this weekend?"
I look over at him and lean back so I can better see his face. Where's he going with this?
Is he...well...is he asking me out? Or is he just being curious and friendly?
I hope he isn't taking pity on me and my plans to read all weekend.
Is there anything worse than that?
"Um," I say. "I don't know. I mean, Ivy mentioned something about this party, but I don't know if I'll go and -- "
"Hang out with me," he says, cutting me off before I can ramble on with this lie about Ivy for a full ten minutes. I'm grateful.
"What?"
He hitches up the sides of his mouth. "You heard me. Hang out with me. Let's do something Friday night."
"Shane, you don't have to do that. I can find something to do. I'm sure you'd rather hang out with your team or something, and I've got Ivy. I'll be fine."
He stares at me. "Nope," he says. "I want to take you downtown. Stop arguing with me."
"Why?"
"Why?" he repeats, looking surprised by the question. "Nat, come on. Just say yes. You haven't even seen campus yet and I said I'd show you."
"Okay," I say after a second. "Sure. Let's do it."
"Great. We won't practice Friday because I've got stuff to do at school, but I'll drive over and pick you up around seven, okay?"
"Is this --?" I'm about to ask if this is a date when my brain finally kicks in and catches up to my stupid mouth and stops me. But, still, I can't help but wonder why he's asking or what this means.
And the thing is, I kind of really want to know.
"Yeah?" he says, raising an eyebrow.
"Nothing. What are we gonna do?"
He shrugs. "I think I'll keep that a secret for now."
"What if I don't like surprises?"
"You do," he says with confidence. "You don't seem like the kind of girl who doesn't like surprises."
He's right and I don't really want to tell him that, but it's hard to keep the smile off my face.
"That's what I thought," he says. "It'll be great. Trust me."
"Just know my expectations are high for you."
"I'll come through." He pushes himself to his feet. "Anyway, it's late. I should be getting home."
"Yeah, aren't you supposed to be on campus? It's a Tuesday night."
"My dad needed help with some stuff around the house. I'm driving back to my apartment tonight."
I nod. "Got it. See you on the ice tomorrow."
"Bonne nuit, Natalie," he says with a grin and a wink before disappearing into the dark shadows he came from.
I glance down at Wuthering Heights on my lap but I'm suddenly less interested in fiction.
At least for tonight, real life might be better than what's between the covers of any book.
CHAPTER FIVE
Shane's car drives down our street around 6:30 on Friday night. He doesn't stop in front of our house but keeps going until he reaches his parents' driveway and parks behind his mom's SUV.
I breathe out a sigh of relief. I'm not ready yet and even though I wasn't really nervous before, I am now. Suddenly seeing him here, like it's actually about to happen tonight, makes my stomach feel like it's about to jump right out of my body.
And the funny thing is, I still have no idea what tonight even is.
We practiced together yesterday after school let out and he drove over from campus and everything was fine but...I don't know, it kind of felt different, too. But maybe it's just me overthinking things because of tonight. I'm sure that's it.
Except...Shane didn't seem to want to get too close to me yesterday. Not that he did before he asked me to hang out Friday or anything, but still. I thought maybe he'd start now.
So I guess all this means is that tonight isn't a date. And that's totally fine. I'll be leaving Wisconsin soon, anyway. No reason to complicate things.
Even if Shane's the only guy I've seen in a really long time that makes me have to concentrate on breathing normally whenever he's close.
My phone din
gs as it rests on my bed. I leave the window seat where I've been absently staring at the street and reach over for it.
It's a new message from Shane and my heart plummets. He's going to cancel. I should've seen it coming. I knew he'd find something better to do than hang out with me on a Friday night. He's a college athlete, for Pete's sake! What's he want to spend time with me for, anyway?
Just wanted to let you know we'll be outside tonight, the text reads. So bring a sweater or something. It's gonna get cold, AZ girl! See you soon.
I smile as I read over his message once, then twice. It's nothing but it still fills me with happiness. But mostly I'm just relieved.
We're still going tonight.
I walk over to my closet and stare inside. What do Wisconsin girls wear on dates -- or hanging outs or who-knows-whats--anyway? In Phoenix, I'd always wear a sundress, some pretty jeweled sandals, maybe a sweater in the winter when the temperature dropped into the sixties. It was uncomplicated there.
Not so much right now.
After glaring at everything on hangers for a few minutes, I settle on dark jeans and brown leather boots with a nice purple shirt under a white knit sweater and a scarf. I stare at myself in the mirror and frown. It's not that I look bad or anything; it's just that I don't look like me.
But I'm going to have to get over that, and fast. It's almost time to meet Shane.
I take one last look in the mirror, shrug and head downstairs.
"You're awfully dressed up to go to the rink." Dad's sitting in his overstuffed chair by the front window, peering at me over the top of his book.
"We're not going skating tonight. At least, I don't think we are."
Dad frowns. "Not skating? Why else would you be seeing your coach?"
"He wants to show me the campus, Dad."
My father stares at me for a second, then nods. "Oh. Oh, well, Madison's lovely. You should see it."
Mom appears in the doorway. "Where are you heading off to?"
"Downtown."
She raises an eyebrow. "With that new friend of yours? Iris?"
"Ivy," I reply. "And no. Shane's taking me on a tour."
"Oh," Mom says, shooting a look at Dad. "Oh. That should be fun."
"Yeah." I glance down at my phone as it buzzes in my hand. "Okay, he's outside. I better go. Be back later." I give my mom a kiss on the cheek before I dart out the front door.
Shane's car is parked in our driveway, but he gets out when he sees me coming and walks over to open the passenger side door for me.
"Well, thanks, Coach."
"Ugh, can we make it a rule that I'm only Coach when we're actually on the ice?"
He closes the door behind me and walks around to the driver's side.
"Nope," I say once he gets in and buckles his seatbelt. "Don't think I like that rule."
"And I don't think that's very fair."
I shrug. "Sorry, Coach. That's just the way it's going to be."
Shane smiles and backs out of our driveway. "So you've never really seen downtown Madison before, huh?"
I shake my head. "Nope, never."
"You're gonna love it. Hey, did you eat yet?"
I bite my lip. I hate this stupid question. I didn't but if he did and I say I'm hungry, then he's going to have to sit around and watch me eat. If I say yes, but he didn't, then I'll have to go hungry while he gets something to eat because I don't want him to think I'm a total pig.
And this is why sometimes I regret liking surprises so much.
"Um, no," I finally say. "I'm a little hungry, I guess."
"Good, me too," he replies without hesitation. Phew. "What do you like?"
"Oh, anything's fine. You pick, you know the area better than I do."
"Gonna have to give me a little more than that, Natalie."
Shane turns out onto a busy street and when I look up, I'm suddenly staring at the Capitol building right in front of my face as it towers over all the other buildings nearby.
"Oh, cool," I blurt out without thinking about it.
He looks over at me. "What? Oh, the Capitol? Yeah, pretty sweet, right? Eventually you kind of forget it's even there."
"I can't imagine that."
"Trust me," he says. "I used to think that, too. But now it's just something else around here that we take for granted, you know?"
"I guess so."
"I'll show you the view from John Nolen Drive sometime," he says. "Nothing's better than Madison's skyline over the lake at night."
"Sounds good to me."
"How's the weather for you now? Getting used to the cold?"
"Oh, it isn't that bad. This whole week has been pretty nice, actually."
"Warm enough to sit outside later?"
"I thought that's why you told me to bring a coat," I say, holding up the puffy winter jacket Mom picked out for me during the week.
Shane glances over at it. "That jacket is huge! What are you going to do in January?"
"Wear two?"
"Now that I'd like to see," he says. "Okay, I can clearly tell you aren't going to have a great time if we're outside all night. We'll go to my favorite restaurant then head over to the terrace."
"Sure, whatever you want."
He drives right up next to the Capitol and I can't help but stare at it as we pass.
"It really is cool," I mutter.
"Sounds like someone's starting to warm up to Wisconsin a little."
I look over at him. "Let's not get carried away."
Shane parallel parks along the curb and unbuckles his seatbelt. "Ready?"
I nod and hop out of the car.
"The restaurant is right over there," he says. "Hopefully my buddy's working and we can snag my favorite table."
"Oh, so is this where you bring all your dates?"
The words tumble out of my mouth before I can stop them and I immediately feel my cheeks grow warm.
It's the first time we've done anything together that isn't hockey and I already sound like I'm expecting a relationship from him. I can't afford to ruin this. I need Shane. He and his puck skills are the key to everything for me right now.
"The team likes to come here after our Saturday night games," he replies, and he doesn't look particularly bothered by my question at all.
He grabs the door and holds it open for me, and it's hard not to smile. He's just, well, I don't know what he is, but I'm pretty sure I can't come up with one thing about Shane Stanford that I don't like so far.
"Your usual spot? It's free," the guy standing behind the host's stand says when we walk in.
Shane nods. "Thanks, Timmy."
The guy smiles at me and grabs two menus. "Follow me."
He leads us through several winding rooms, all dimly lit with cozy booths. Each table has a flickering candle sitting on it, and I can't help but find it really hard to picture a men's college hockey team eating here in such a...well, such a romantic atmosphere.
And I won't lie. My toes are tingling slightly at the idea of sitting in one of those booths across from Shane.
But of course, Timmy leads us to a table, not a booth, in a big, open room full of windows.
"Here you go," he says.
Shane looks at me. "This okay, Natalie?"
I nod and drop into one of the seats. "Yeah, it's great."
I'm not sure that I really mean it, but of course I'm not about to tell him this.
"I like it because of the view of the lake," he says as Timmy leaves the menus on the table and walks away.
I glance out the floor-to-ceiling windows and for a second, I forget how irritated I am that we're out in the open surrounded by a ton of other people instead of in a quiet, cozy booth.
The restaurant sits on the banks of one of the two lakes that surround Madison. Sailboats litter the clear blue surface as the sun sets behind the tall pine tree lining the far banks.
"Wow," I murmur.
"Yeah, nice, right? One of my favorite spots. And the food isn't bad, either. Not
so sure yet about the company, though."
I swing my head around to look at him, mock horror etched on my face. "I'm pretty sure I'm the one who gets to make a decision about the quality of company tonight."
He lifts an eyebrow. "Oh? Is that so?"
"Yeah, I think it is."
"And just why is that?" He's smiling at me over the top of his menu and I can't keep the grin off my face.
"Because I make the rules."
"You think that, don't you?"
I just smile and open my menu. "What's good here?"
"Look at you, changing the subject," he says with a shake of his head. "I really like their burgers, but I don't know what you eat."
"A burger sounds great."
"You should go with the Mendota burger," he tells me. "It's my favorite."
"Done," I say, closing the menu.
"Not even gonna look at it?" he asks, a smile playing at the corner of his lips.
"Nope. I'll trust you on this one, Coach."
Our waiter comes over to us then and we place our order, both of us sticking with burgers. When he leaves, I'm left sitting there, staring at Shane, not sure what to say.
But I don't mind. He's just so...so cute, and my heart's pounding slightly as I take in the wave in his thick blonde hair and his strong forearms resting on the edge of the table.
"Alright, Natalie," he says finally. "I know you're here from Arizona and I know you want to go back and I know you're trying to learn how to play hockey, but that's really it. What else is left for me to find out about you?"
I feel a faint blush rise up and spread across my face. "There's not much to tell, really."
"I don't believe that. Everyone's got a story and I want to know yours."
I glance down at my hands. "I...well, I...."
"Okay," he says. "Let's make it easy. Why are you so upset about being here? It's really not a terrible place to live."
"It's not home," I say immediately.
"But that isn't always a bad thing."
"Maybe. But it's also not the best timing. I couldn't even finish my senior year with my friends that I've known forever. And that sucks."
He nods slowly. "I could see that. You could look at it like practice for college. Everyone goes their separate ways then anyway."
