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She’s ballsier now, which is probably the reason she won the date this year. But still, I have this odd feeling. Something is off about this situation. Maybe it’s just my paranoia getting the best of me. Dr. Saxon says it’s normal for people who come from my background to have trust issues. And those issues are the cause of most of my problems.
“On a serious note,” Sadie says after a long pause. “We need to discuss your wardrobe choice for this weekend. I won’t be home to pick out your clothes like I normally do.”
“That’s because I hate fashion. Clothes are nothing more than a utility for me.”
Sadie sniffs, pretending as though I hurt her feelings, but her coy smile says otherwise. “You should wear a dress.”
I laugh at her outfit choice. “I’m not a puck bunny. No way in hell will I wear a dress inside a cold rink with a bunch of meathead hockey players around to ogle me. Nope, not happening.”
She frowns. “You’re the hardest person to dress. You never like anything I give you.”
“I love this shirt.” I point at the oversized tee that says I Like Big Books and I Cannot Lie with a silly smile plastered on my face. “You gave it to me for Christmas, remember?”
I expect her to at least smile or force one, but Sadie doesn’t look amused.
She groans, and her face scrunches. “Julian is expecting you to go to the party at his house after his game. What are you going to wear to it?”
“Not a dress. Why can’t I wear jeans and a T-shirt to the party?”
Her frown turns into a scowl. “You’re killing me, babe.”
“I’m not Dress-Up Barbie. I can figure out something before I leave for the rink.”
“I wish I didn’t have to go home this weekend.” Sadie sighs. “If my favorite cousin weren’t getting married, I would be your wing-woman at the game and party. I’m afraid you won’t even show if I’m not around.”
“I’m meeting Shannon, Sam, and a few of their friends at the game. So, don’t worry about me. I won’t be alone.”
She nods, a tiny smile stretching across her lips.
“I wish you hadn’t spent all of that money on Julian,” I admit. “He’s not worth it.”
“That’s not what you said two years ago,” she challenges.
I snort at her comment. “Two years ago, I was delusional and under his spell. Now that I’ve woken up from my Julian-induced coma, I’m now in jock therapy and no longer capable of falling for another bad boy hockey player.”
“You were in love with him, Bri. And I’m pretty sure he was in love with you, too. You didn’t see the way he looked at you. The way he still looks at you.”
“I feel nothing for Julian Rivers,” I lie. “Nothing but hatred.”
“Please, for the love of God and all that is holy, have fun this weekend. Don’t kill Julian or anyone else. And make sure you borrow something cute from my closet.” She says the last part with a wide grin. “You’re going to do great. Don’t get nervous. Julian still likes you, whether you want to acknowledge it or not. Everything will work itself out.”
I force a smile more for her benefit than mine. “Is the no killing Julian rule a hard and fast one, or can I break it in case of emergency?”
She shakes her head, her long hair falling in front of her eyes. In one swift motion, she does one of those hair flips you see in conditioner commercials. Her movements are so effortless as if they teach that in school. How do women do that? It’s like some women are born with it. I tried to do that once when I was dating Julian. He thought I was having a seizure with how awkward I made the simple gesture look. After he tried to take me to the hospital, we laughed for an hour, and then he kissed every inch of my body until I couldn’t remember why we were laughing so hard. It was one of the best nights of my life.
“Yes, it’s a hard rule,” Sadie says. “Try to have fun. It wouldn’t kill you. Just don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“Well, that’s a short list,” I deadpan.
Before she can respond, her cell phone rings. Sadie mutters a few uh-huh’s and then says, “Nooo…. don’t do that.” Gripping her phone, she glances over at me and whispers, “My cousin is acting like Bridezilla. She needs me to talk her off the ledge. You cool with meeting me in class?”
“Yeah, go ahead.” I wave her off, and she rushes out of the cafeteria.
After I dispose of our trays, I head for the exit. I have fifteen minutes until the start of my next class and then off to work. Professor Connors is a real stickler about time. I learned the hard way. Her watch is set two minutes and twelve seconds ahead of my watch, and she goes by her time when it comes to her class. I could have lost my scholarship over her stupid rules.
As I adjust the bag over my shoulder, someone tugs on it from behind me. I spin around, about to smack their arm off me, when my eyes meet Julian’s. My mouth is twisted into an angry scowl that doesn’t go away with his adorable smile… or the cute dimple that pops in his cheek whenever he laughs or smiles.
“I’m gonna be late for class.” I shake him off. “What do you want?”
