I feel for him, I do, but there is a part of me that thinks that steering clear from him is the best thing to do. He’s jeopardising his future by drinking and doing anything but practicing. I need to focus on getting my life back on track, not trying to fix the hockey boy who’s too far in take anything seriously. If he wanted to play, if he really wanted to make Carter proud in some way, he’s doing it the wrong way.
“Jesus, that’s awful,” Kennedy mumbles, her brown eyes wide with concern.
“I know but the weirdest part is that he suggested that I help him get back on track and he’ll magically get people interested in me again. It sounded so ridiculous it reminded me of you guys,” I laugh.
They’re both quiet for a minute, taking it in until Kennedy’s face literally lights up. She jumps up out of her place on the floor.
“No, no, nope,” I say before she can even say anything. I straighten and throw a finger in her face and say again, “No.”
“Yep,” Kennedy replies grinning wide.
“You can’t possibly agree with him. I feel bad for him but he’s a jerk. All hockey players are,” I plead.
“That is very true,” Scarlett agrees, nodding.
Austin has told me that for many years, this school has always put hockey guys on a pedestal. They do it at every school ever, but here especially. They’re royalty. Always thinking they are better than everybody else. Not just at their sport but in everything. They think it’s so easy to get girls to sleep with them just because they were a jersey. Even the basketball, soccer and football players aren’t like that. Maybe if Salt Lake wasn’t such a wintry place to live, they wouldn’t feel like it’s their duty to be the only thing people talk about. Austin and Scarlett have had their fair share of horrible dates with hockey players and have encouraged Ken and I to avoid them at all costs. The problem is they’re hot and they know they’re hot and that everybody wants them.
“But he’s not just any guy though. Everyone knows he’s the best player they have and he’s clearly vulnerable enough to ask you for help. You could help him retrain with all the insane cardio that you do and then he can use his pretty boy powers to help you regain your social statusandyour skating privileges. It’s a genius plan,” Kennedy more plans out than suggests. I hate that whenever she says ridiculous things, they just make sense. It’s her superpower. With the grin on her face, she knows it too.
“In this completely hypothetical situation, how exactly would that work? The last thing I need right now is a project to try and fix,” I warn.
“From a completely hypothetical and third-party perspective, wouldn’t it help if you pretended to date? Like, put on a whole show about it. People will be interested in you again instead of feeling sorry for you both,” Scarlett says quietly. I turn and glare at her.
“Yes! Oh my God, Scarlett. Why didn’t I think of that? Fake dating. It’s the best trope. It's perfect,” Kennedy sighs like the little evil genius she is.
“No. Definitely not. He’s probably a dick like all the other guys on his team,” I say.
“Is he a dick or does he just have one?” Kennedy jokes, her eyebrows shooting up and down. I roll my eyes at her remark and turn to Scarlett.
“How are you of all people going to encourage this when you know what happened with Jake?” I say, ignoring Kennedy’s comment.
“Jake is an asshole but Miles, surprisingly, isn’t. He was the only one I could tolerate at any of their after-game parties. You need something to spicez up your dating life. You’ve dated like two guys in the whole time we’ve know each other. Augustus was more like your coach than an actual boyfriend so, he doesn’t count,” Scarlett admits, shrugging.
I hate how right she is. Augustus (never to be called ‘Gus') Holden more or less scouted me in high school. We met at the rink one day and he said he saw something in me. At first it was purely a partnership and then we started getting more serious and I looked at him in a different way. He started to look more like someone I could see myself with romantically. Then things got really ugly, really quickly.
“Scar, Miles is so infuriating. And distracting. He’s like a lost puppy,” I say, my mind wandering back to that night. I would be stupid if I said I didn’t find him attractive but I’m not going to admit that to him. How could I say that his gorgeous brown locks, wicked smile, and dark green eyes drew me in so fast? It was hypnotising. Not in a good way.
“You will never fully know if you don’t find out. He can’t be so bad if he asked you for help,” Kennedy suggests. I take in the silence for a few beats, thinking it over. Why are they suddenly so interested in giving him a chance? We would never look twice at guys like him.
“Wren, I’m just going to say what everyone is thinking. You don’t have the guts to just drop skating,” Scarlett says, her tone even and steady but her words still feel like daggers.
“Scarlett! What the fuck? You can’t say that,” Kennedy shouts, staring between us worriedly. I slip back further into the couch, ready for it to swallow me whole.
“What? Am I wrong?” Scarlett asks me, looking into me with her green eyes.
“No, you’re right. I don’t have the guts. I would get too overwhelmed and drop out all together in weeks. Plus, I don’t think my writing is good enough yet,” I say truthfully, pushing away my hair from my face.
“I think this might be your only option right now, Wren,” Scarlett suggests, her voice quiet and almost motherly. I think it over, letting myself fall into the fantasy of it only for a second.
“Do I really have to date him?” I groan. The thought is both exhilarating at the thrill of something new but also irritating to have to engage in frequent conversations with him.
“Fakedate him,” Kennedy corrects. “And yes. You do. No one will care if he posts you a few times on his Insta.”
I nod and take in the idea. This could work. I could have a full house at the Winter Showcase, and he might be able to get back in the rink. It would be a win-win. This could also be a stupid idea and we could end up making our lives worse than they already are.
“The next time you see him, get his number, and see if he’s still up for it. You don’t have to ask him right away, but he was technically the one who suggested it first,” Scarlett mentions.
“Fine. Okay,” I sigh, giving in.
