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Again, I know my place. Nick is way out of my league.
“I just can’t really have any major distractions.” He explains. “I had a girlfriend freshman year and it didn’t go too well. So, I’m not really looking for anything like that.”
I’m trying not to say anything. I’ve heard about that. You know, being a hockey fan and writer for the school newsletter, I get all the gossip.
Dustin called him a playboy after there was a rumor of him cheating on his said girlfriend. ‘Didn’t go too well’ is an understatement. It was the talk of the school. I don’t want anything to do with that.
“No distractions? Huh?” I ask, thinking of ways I could get him to miss the ball so I’m not the only embarrassment of the day.
“Yup, no distractions. Fun is allowed.” He looks up with a smirk and slowly draws his gaze over my body. “But no distractions.”
As he winds up to take his shot I do the first thing that comes to mind. The thing my brother would do to annoy me all the time while growing up.
Bringing my hand to my mouth, I blow into it to make a playful farting noise.
Nick takes his swing but looks up at me. He hit the ball but instead of sailing straight out, it wobbled to the side falling short of where he was going for.
“Ha! Not so perfect, are we?” I tease.
His mouth hangs open looking at me.
“Is that the game you want to play? Come on, it's your turn.” He challenges me once he shakes out his surprise and watches me get ready to hit my ball.
I wearily step up to the tee, and line up. I’m moving slowly and anticipating the noise or a sound he’ll make to distract me.
As I swing back, I’m not expecting his club to graze my side. I jump just as I swing, missing the ball completely.
Nick laughs at the scene in front of him. “At least you didn’t throw the club this time.”
“So unfair.” I grumble.
After that, we go back and forth trying to distract each other by yelling out or making noises.
I can’t get him to miss the ball. I have to pull out the big guns.
We’re down to the last few balls in the bucket. He took some from mine since I’m lagging behind.
Nick sets up his shot, and I know just what would mess with his head.
“You know, I’ve been thinking,” I say casually, laying down the groundwork.
“Oh yeah?” He glances up uneasily.
Women thinking is never a good sign.Insert my eye roll here.
“Yup, you picked me up from the dining hall. Or rather dragged me out. Same thing.” I wave it off.
“Ok?” He stops lining up his shot, but I wave him on to continue.
“Driving while listening to music all the way out here where no one else is around.” I continue, ignoring his uneasy shifting. “Almost romantic if you ask me.”
Nick’s shoulders tense up as he winds up his shot.
“Especially when you wrapped your arms around me. A very romanticdate.” I put a special emphasis on the word ‘date,’ just as Nick swings and misses the ball.
“Fuck,” he mumbles.
I stand there innocently against my club.
