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“Breaking news, ladies and gents,” Tinker Bell murmurs loud enough that I can hear her, despite the noise all around the bar.
“That this silly rivalry we have going on is bad for the reputation of the hockey program,” I finish saying, as if there were no interruption. “So we should settle things with a friendly game.”
“Why would we?” The girl who was part of the bathroom saga snorts. What was her name again? Something White.
“Unless you’re too scared.” Conor shrugs.
Honestly, I didn’t expect that low blow from him. But it’s exactly what gets the Strikes to leave their seats.
“What are you plotting, Cassiano?” Tinker Bell stands a hairsbreadth from me, glaring with enough force to make another man tumble backward.
If I tell her what I’m planning, though, she won’t play.
“Aren’t you tired of all of this?” I tilt my head, trying to look like the picture of innocence. “We waste so much energy hating each other instead of focusing on what matters.”
“So what do you suggest?” she asks, taking a step back so that when she folds her arms, she doesn’t have to touch me.
The too-long pause on my end isn’t because I want to rile her up, although it seems to be working that way, judging by how her jaw tightens. It’s just that I’m having another eureka moment here.
I want to play just with her.
Cassiano, I tell myself in a voice that sounds too much like my dad’s. You’re supposed to be married to hockey.
This isn’t good, and I know it. Tinker Bell distracts me too much. I spend half of Intro to Entrepreneurship glancing at her. When I’m on the ice or at the gym, I expect to catch a glimpse of her every ten minutes. I have no right to make fun of Nate when I’m suffering the same ailment.
The rational approach would be to ignore her. Or, since I can’t do that because of our project, then it would be wise to not seek her out. But I’ve spent the whole week with a thundercloud hanging over me, and the second she glanced up at me, the sky cleared.
“You and me,” I say, wishing my voice didn’t come out so thick. “A game of pool.”
“Pool?” Her eyebrows go up, as if she expected something different.
I bite my lower lip but can’t hold back my smile. “Winner grants the other a wish.”
“That is so childish,” one of her friends, Brit Thomas, I think, says.
“Oh yeah?” I hear Nate ask. “Then why don’t you play a round with me?”
Atta boy, shoot your shot too.
Tinker Bell tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “So, like, if I win, I can get you to rein in your buddies forever?”
“If that’s what you wish, yup.” I put my hands in my pockets. A halo’s probably appearing over my head.
Her eyes narrow. “If the point is peace between our teams, then why does it sound like you have a different wish?”
I lean closer to her and whisper right in her ear. “Win and find out, Tinker Bell.”
“That makes no sense.” She pushes me away. “I would only find out if I lose.”
“So, are you in, or are you gonna balk?”
She’s too easy to rile up. Color rises up her throat, and she explodes with a volcanic “You’re so gonna lose, Cassiano.”
For all I know, she’s a world champion in pool, and I’m gonna eat my words. Even if that’s the case, I’ll still get what I want. To spend some time with her.
A couple of minutes later, we manage to clear both tables. Nate and Brit Thomas take one. I stand across the other table, running chalk over the tip of a cue, being glared at.
Conor, brave man that he is, looks at the other two Strikes and says, “What about we play darts? And between two pool games and one of darts, the team that wins two of the three earns eternal glory and respect.”
