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A smiling hostess welcomed us with Spock’s famous hand gesture, plastic antennae bobbing atop her head. “Greetings. Just two?” At our nods, she pushed away from the podium and led us to our table on sparkly green roller skates. She set down our menus, informed us our server would be here soon, and rolled away.
Kingston shrugged out of his leather jacket, and we sat down in the green vinyl booth. He relaxed into the seat, and I followed suit. Since our little competition, and the practice with the kids, Kingston had started to chill out around me. He was opening up, and I was actually starting to think this might work.
“This place is amazing. How’d you know about it? I thought you were a spoiled little rich kid that never left Manhattan.”
I flipped him off, but a smile was pulling at my lips. He had a point. “Iwasa spoiled little rich kid. Until I met Mason. He used to live around here. Our pee-wee team practiced at a rink a few miles away.”
“The one we were just at?” Kingston asked with a raised eyebrow.
“No, no. One in the opposite direction.”
We quieted as a woman dressed like an alien waitress skated up to us. We quickly ordered our drinks—both of us choosing water—and the waitress glided away to give us time to look overthe menu.
“Wait,” Kingston said suddenly. “What were you doing on Frey’s team? Pee-wee teams are dividedby area.”
I fought the urge to fiddle with the alien-green vinyl under my thigh. “They usually are, but after I met Mason and we became friends, I switched over to his team as soon asI could.”
“And your parents justlet you?”
“Uh … yeah. They were just glad I made a friend. I was only really interested in hockey, and it wasn’t like the kids on my team were thrilled about a girl being with them,” I said shyly. Damn, I sounded like a loser. To be honest, it hadn’t been that bad; I was—and still am—more focused on blocking pucks than making friends. So, when I noticed the boys not responding to my attempts at making friends, I dropped it. But my parents were getting worried that my only friends were the goal posts, so when I met Mason, they did everything in their power to support me. Just like they did with everything in my life.
Kingston winced, and I cocked my head at the sudden mood shift, waiting for the question he obviously wanted to ask. Eventually, he got it out. “I know you said you weren’t before, but are you sure you’re not mad at us, Warren? About the game, I mean.”
I sighed and was granted a moment to think as our waitress came back, dropped off our waters, and took our orders. Kingston wanted a burger, and I decided on a chicken wrap. I waited for the waitress to skate away again before I answered. “No. I was never really mad at you guys to begin with. A little irritated at the situation, maybe, but if I were to be mad at anyone, it would be Hansson. It was his call; you guys were just following orders. It’s not that big of a deal. I’m kind of used to it.”
Kingston sighed. “Yeah. That’s kind of the problem. You shouldn’t be used to it.”
I pursed my lips. “Objectively, I know that, but it’s almost second nature at this point. I’ve never had a team that fully supported me. The only player who’s ever had my back is Mason. I’ve learned to adapt,” I said, then smiled ruefully. “I guess that’s why I ‘don’t play well with others’ as Coach said.”
Kingston didn’t respond right away, and I could practically see the wheels turning in his head. Suddenly, he jolted straight in his booth and nodded with determination. “Okay then. I’ll be your friend.”
“But … you’re already my mentor. Doesn’t that force you to be my friend anyway?”
Kingston grimaced and waved his hand as if batting away my comment. “I’ve never really been a great mentor. I mean, I give good advice for hockey things, but when it comes to life problems... Let’s just say there’s a reason I’m not thecaptain.”
I sipped my water in contemplation. Was that the reason Kingston turned down the captain role? I always figured he declined the position because he was too busy or because he just didn’t like being a teacher. “But you want to help me deal with my life problems? Is this because you feel guilty? Because I don’t need your pity.”
“No,” he denied emphatically. “I don’t pity you at all. I saw you on that ice. You’re damn strong. You basically played the first part of that game by yourself, but you shouldn’t have had to. So, I’m going to make sure you’re never left hanging like that again.”
“By being my friend?”
“Yes. By being your friend,” he said then raised an eyebrow, awaitingmy answer.
I stared at his eyebrow absentmindedly from across the table.How did he do that?I could never move just one eyebrow, and I’d tried. It was no wonder Kingston could do it though; the man could do everything. So, if he said he could help me, I had to believe him.
Fighting back the part of me that balked at the implication that I needed help, I cleared my throat. “Ok. So, what do you want to talk about, friend?”
“I don’t know. What do friends usually talk about?”
“Aside from hockey? Relationships, maybe? What about that girl you’re dating? What was her name again?”
“Sarah.”
“Right, Sarah. How is she?”
“I don’t know. We broke up.” The voice could have come from a robot with how much emotion it held.
I searched Kingston’s face, trying to see if he was hiding sadness behind his indifference. I caught the slightest hint of regret in his eyes, but he seemed mostly fine.
