Page 24 of Taking Sides

I look up and meet his eyes. I don’t need to ask who he’s talking about. He knows about the date. He didn’t press for details, but I told him it didn’t even last long enough for us to order food. And I’m sure he accurately guessed that it was my fuckup and not anything Whitney did wrong.

I glance away and shake my head. I’m aware of him getting to his feet, but I’m lost again in the memories of Whitney sitting across from me, that stunning smile and hitch in her voice. She was nervous too, I think, based on the way her sentences ran together and how she tried to fill the silence. Normal first date sort of jitters, not the kind that has your date leaving because they think you’re giving them the cold shoulder.

“JV game starts at six,” he says only seconds before D-Low returns.

“Are you heading out?” he asks Penn.

“Yeah. I’m old. Time for bed.”

D-Low snorts. “Okay, gramps. Be careful getting home.”

I finally lift my gaze to say goodbye to Penn.

His stare is already on me. “Text me if you want to ride together.”

I dip my chin in thanks.

He leaves and D-Low settles into the chair next to me.

“What was that about?”

“That high school hockey team we helped out with this summer has their first game of the season tomorrow.”

“Aaaah.” He drags out the word, then takes a long pull from his beer, watching me closely. “So?”

“That’s it.”

“Are you going?”

“I’m not sure.”

A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, lifting it slowly. “Does your obvious discomfort have anything to do with the hot hockey coach who you went out with on one date and refused to speak about ever again?”

“That . . . I . . . There’s nothing else to say.”

Unlike Penn, D-Low has tried to bring up the date. Not that I’ve given him any more details.

“It couldn’t have gone that badly.”

I chuckle, a real honest laugh that bubbles up in my chest and sounds a little manic. “Oh, that’s where you’re wrong.”

My fingers wrap around the bottle of beer, and I tip it back only to find it empty.

“What happened?”

He asked that night when I came home and drowned my sorrows in a pint of ice cream. And a dozen more times in the week that followed when I barely left the apartment.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Sure it does. You obviously want to go to the game and see her again. So tell me about this date and what went wrong, so I can come up with a plan for you to fix it tomorrow night.”

“There is no plan that is going to convince her to go out with me again.”

D-Low leans forward, elbows on the table, a cocky smirk on his face. “We’ll see about that.”

SIX

Of all the terrible ideas I’ve had in my life, this one might have been the worst. I feel like I’m going to be sick. My knee bounces as I watch the Moonshot High School JV team take the ice.