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He nodded. “Will Harper be there?”
“I’m not sure.”
“But she’s okay, right? She isn’t still sick after—”
“No, she isn’t still sick. You know that.”
Because he’d asked me every time we texted or talked this week.
“One day, when I’m older, I’m going to meet a girl like Harper. She’s kind and funny, and she cares about what I think about stuff. You know, since I can’t date her, you should date her. Then I’d get to be friends with her after she stops working at the group. Maybe we could hang out and—”
“I don’t think that’s going to work out, buddy.”
“Why.” He frowned. “Don’t you think she’s pretty?”
Jesus. He was really going there after I’d spent the night in her bed.
“Yeah, she’s pretty, but she’s not my type.”
“What is your type? She’s pretty. She can skate. She loves hockey and knows all the best players. She can—”
“Come on, buddy, cut me some slack. I’ve got a big game tonight.”
He grabbed his fiddle toy off the table and started twisting it into a complex shape, and I knew we were almost done with this conversation.
“It’s okay, Mase,” he said without looking up. “If you’re worried Harper doesn’t like you, I’ll tell her she should give you a chance. I’ll tell her you’re the best. Then we can keep her. Then she won’t leave us.”
Fuck.
“Scottie, I’m not sure—”
“No, don’t worry. I’ve got this, Mason brother.” He looked at me with the kind of sheer determination I’d only seen him wear when he got hyper-focused on something. “I’m going to help you win the girl.”
And the worst thing was, I believed him.
* * *
“Mase, Mason brother.” Scottie waved excitedly from behind the plexiglass as we warmed up. Ellet Arena was slowly filling up, but Coach had agreed we could go out on the ice a little earlier.
I skated past him and Mom, tapping my stick against the glass. The look of wonder on his face was worth the agonizing ride to Lakeshore with them.
He’d told her all about Harper. Gone so far as to throw me under the bus too. But I’d stood firm and told her what I’d told her the day I’d brought Harper back to the house; there was nothing to tell.
Harper was a friend. That’sallshe would ever be.
The lie would have been easier to believe if she hadn’t looked at me withthatlook. That soft, knowing expression that screamed, ‘You might not realize it now, Son, but one day you will.’
So Scottie had gone on and on about Harper this and Harper that, and Mom had sat quietly chuckling, casting me furtive glances the entire way.
Notmy idea of fun.
“Little bro looks excited,” Noah came up beside me as we did another lap of honor to get the fans hyped.
“Yeah, wouldn’t shut up the entire ride here.”
“They get checked into the hotel, okay?”
“Yeah, and we’re all set for tomorrow. Coach said we can bring him down for a little behind-the-scenes tour.”
