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I remove the book-shaped lockbox, unlock it, add my tips to the roll, wrap five ones around the outside, secure it with an elastic, lock the box up, and shove it to the back of the drawer.
My fingers brush over the thick envelope, the other thing I don’t want my dad to know about. What I wouldn’t give to be able to accept the offer of admission and the scholarship. Until today it felt like an impossible dream. But now…I have hope.
I understand why my mom cautions me against dreams, though. Because the only thing worse than not having them at all is getting close enough to touch them, only to have them snatched away.
9 EMBRACE THE CHANGE
Winter
As agreed upon, all week BJ picks me up after my shift at Boones—but at the library since I’m done between one and two in the afternoon, and he’s on the ice until three. We make out for a handful of minutes before we get on the ice and he helps me strengthen my weak areas. We talk and skate and laugh and flirt.
I find out that BJ and the rest of his friends all go to the same college I have a scholarship for: Monarch. I haven’t mentioned the letter to him. I don’t want to get ahead of myself. He lives off campus with his friends, and he’s in his senior year with a major in psychology. I’m working on a degree in social work, but because I’m only part-time and online, I’m a sophomore when I should be a junior.
Later, when practice is over, BJ drives me home, and we spend a good twenty minutes making out. But he keeps stalling us at second base. As frustrating as it is, BJ is an amazing kisser, and if I’m honest, I kind of like not rushing things.
So far I haven’t said anything to my parents about the Hockey Academy, using homework from my online summer course and internet access at the library to explain my late nights and missing dinner lately. It’s not a complete lie. With daily hockey practices, my homework is allocated to later in the day now. After the first practice, I started filling the takeout containers with items that could be from Boones, so they were easy to explain away if I didn’t polish them off before I got home.
I feel bad about keeping it from my mom, but she’s a terrible liar, and I don’t want to get her in shit for hiding things from my dad. I also don’t want a lecture on hanging out with the people from the other side of the lake, and how it’ll make me want things I can’t have. Eventually I have to say something, but I’ve only attended a handful of practices. I don’t see the point in stirring up drama when I can’t be sure how long this will last.
On Friday after practice, I’m extra giddy. I skip Iced Out to meet up with BJ and find him sitting on the picnic table beside the bike racks. His back is against the edge of the table, his long legs stretched out in front of him, one crossed over the other. He’s wearing a faded black Depeche Mode T-shirt from the Ultra album, and the vibrant artwork on his arm is in full effect. His hair is pulled back with a rainbow spiral tie, but a piece has slipped free, and it rests against his cheek.
His eyes move over me on a hot sweep. “You’re done early.”
“It’s Friday.”
He grins. “That it is.”
I practically skip to the passenger-side door. Along with brand-new equipment and skates that fit perfectly, I have a new hockey bag. It stays at the arena with my gear, and all I bring with me these days is my backpack.
BJ pushes off the bench and lopes over, hitting the unlock button when he’s a few feet away. As always, he extends a hand and I take it, climbing into the passenger seat. He doesn’t make a move to kiss me. We save that for when we’re alone and there’s no one watching.
He takes his place behind the wheel. “I forgot to tell you to bring a bathing suit. Can we stop by your place to grab one?”
I glance at the dashboard clock. It’s after six. Friday nights my mom often stays on for the dinner shift, and my dad usually goes to the Town Pub after work for a few pints.
There’s a chance I could grab a suit without running into my dad, but if he skips the pub and goes to his buddy’s place to play poker, he might come home first to shower. It’s dicey. “Better not to risk going home in case my dad is there. He’s liable to give me a list of chores. I can always swim in my sports bra and shorts.”
BJ nods. “Or you can borrow a suit. Lovey probably has half a dozen in the pool house.”
I give him a look. “You can’t offer me your friend’s bathing suit.”
He shrugs. “She’s got more clothes at my house than I do. But it’s whatever you’re comfortable with.”
We drive past the cutoff to my house and continue to the other side of the lake, where the biggest, most amazing cottage houses are. I’ve only ever seen them from the water, or passed their driveways on my bike.
BJ’s place is designed to look like a rustic, albeit classy, massive cabin in the woods. It’s stunning on the outside, and I can only imagine what it looks like inside. A few cars are already parked in the driveway, one of which I recognize as Rose’s. “Uh, who’s all here?”
“Rose, probably Lovey, and it looks like my roommate Quinn is in town.” He pulls in next to a truck. Everyone around here has cars that are worth almost as much as the cabin my family lives in.
“Right. Cool.” I drum on the armrest.
He stretches his arm across the back of the seat and caresses my cheek with a knuckle. “Don’t worry. I haven’t forgotten the deal we made.”
I fully expect him to lean in and kiss me. Instead, he unbuckles his seat belt and gets out of the Jeep, leaving me with no choice but to do the same. I follow him around the side of the house and down a set of graduated stone steps, lined with beautiful, manicured gardens and built-in lighting. On the dock are Lovey and Rose, but I don’t recognize either of the guys seated across from them.
Rose waves and arches a knowing brow. She’s been relentless with her questions, particularly since BJ has come in more than once while I’m working and he picked me up the other day.
“Hey!” A grin lights up Lovey’s face. “Winter! Yay! BJ said you were coming to hang out tonight.” She pulls me in for a hug. “I don’t think you’ve met my brother or Quinn, have you?”
