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Auden doesn’t hesitate before she reaches out and presses our palms together. We shake on it, on our friendship and our mutual annoyance with parts of our lives. “As mybest friend, I feel like you should know Ihategetting up before ten a.m.”
My grin widens. “I’m a morning person. A decade plus of early morning hockey practices.”
“Great. You can get up early, play hockey, andthenwe can hang out.”
I chuckle. “You said you’re leaving Tuesday. I promise I won’t text you before ten when you’re back in California.”
“Is this—I mean, do you—”
“Our friendship doesn’t have an expiration date, Denny. Unless you want it to?”
“I think things end when they’re supposed to, not when you decide they should.”
“Nowyou sound like a California hippie.”
Auden rolls her eyes and snaps her seatbelt. “Shut up and drive, Reid.”
Girls call me by my last name all the time, usually followed by a flirty wink or coy smile. It’s never affected me—up until right now.
I shift the car into drive. We start moving.
“So, where are we going?” Auden asks. Being vague worked for me before, so I went for the same strategy when I texted her last night.
“You said you’ve never been to Canmore before, right?”
“Right,” she confirms.
“So that means you’ve never been to the lake.”
Auden shoots me a confused look. “What are you talking about? The lake is basically the only place Ihavebeen.”
“You’ve been to Canmore Lake,” I clarify. “Not Lake Louise.”
“Um, is there a difference? I mean, a lake’s a lake, right? It’s basically just a giant puddle.”
“Spoken like an American who’s never been to Lake Louise.”
I expect patriotic annoyance, or at least some feigned offense. Instead, she asks, “Aren’tyouAmerican?”
Pretty much the last thing I was expecting her to say. I tread carefully. “What do you mean?”
“I looked your dad up. I wasn’t sure if you have the last name…but you do. He’s American, right? Just played here for a bit. So that makes you…”
“You looked him up?”
“Yeah.” She bites her bottom lip. “Sorry? I was curious.”
“It’s okay.” Surprisingly, I actually mean it. “I’ve lived in Canmore my whole life. The only time I’ve been to the States was for a hockey clinic in Minnesota. But yeah…I guess if you want to get technical, I am.”
“That fancy pen I was using? My dad gave it to me for my sixteenth birthday, because he doesn’t know me well enough to get me something I’d actually like—and because all he cares about is that I get good enough grades to get into Stanford, where he went.”
I glance at her sideways. “You trying to start some shitty dad competition?”
“Just telling mybest friendsomething.”
“Sorry about your shitty dad.”
“Sorry yours is shittier.” I’ve heard a lot of half-assed apologetic responses when my dad comes up. That tops the list as my favorite.
