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I can’t believe I didn’t think to ask. “Not sure.”
“If it’s regular mail, it can take forever. Sometimes a couple weeks.”
A couple weeks? “Tell me you’re kidding.”
She rolls her eyes like I’m an idiot. “Bishop, you’re in Alaska.”
Panic starts to set it. Wait, panic? No, I just don’t want Marya
The scowl on her face tells me I said the wrong thing. “There’s nothing wrong with here. I don’t get why everyone thinks that.” She closes her eyes again, ignoring me. Obviously, I hit a sore spot.
“Sorry,” I mumble, a little surprised that I apologized to her. “If you like it so much, why are you leaving? Gramps says you have a ton of big colleges who want you. That you’re just deciding where to go.”
Her eyes widen before her face pulls into a frown. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“What? Are you scared to leave?”
The look she gives me tells me that was definitely the wrong thing to say.
Chapter Eight
Pe
“Scared to leave? I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that.” I need time to think about what to say so I slide down until the water covers my head before sitting up and wiping my face. But I still don’t know if I’m going to give him a real answer or not. “It just…It doesn’t matter. I don’t know where I’m going to college, okay?”
Bishop will agree with the rest of them and tell me I need to go. Take advantage of the opportunity.
Just because the college teams might want me doesn’t mean I want them. Irritation washes through me in full force as I think about how even my team is pushing me. The guys were all slapping my back after two more colleges contacted Coach about me this week. It’s not like I’m the only one of us getting offers—I’m just the only one who hasn’t decided.
Why does everyone want me to leave?
Bishop shrugs. “Figured it was a big deal that so many people wanted you.”
“Why?” I snap. “’Cause I’m a girl?”
His brows rise a bit. I can feel myself being a bitch, but I can’t care right now. Chomps slammed me hard in practice today, and my whole body aches. My brain hurts from the pressure of our games and school and Gramps and another day of Rebecca making kissy faces at Mitch, and I just need to be alone for a bit.
“Hell, no.” He chuckles. “That makes you more scary.”
He’s even being nice.
“Semifinals are in three days. I’m wound up.” I’m almost…apologizing. Crazy. “I’m going to take a handful of Advil and drop into bed.”
Something in Bishop’s expression tightens before relaxing again. “Yeah. Okay.”
Neither of us moves, but I hate the tension between us. The ride home from Pat’s, snowmachining—Bishop is fun in a way I never expected.
“Shit. I’m sorry.” I pull my knees to my chest while I put my thoughts together. “I already know what I want. I want to go to UAA or UAF, and apparently that’s not big enough for someone who’s wanted by some of the best women’s college hockey teams in America.”
Bishop stares at me long enough that I swear I start to shrink. “After all the shit I’ve heard come from your mouth, I can’t believe you’d let anyone talk you into anything. You’re stronger than that.”
“I don’t…” I blink a few times at his compliment. Stu
He fingers his lip ring for a moment, making me wonder what prompted him to get it. The silence between us this time is relaxed. “That’s definitely something I can relate to.”
I watch him for any sign or hint that he might tell me something about himself, but he just keeps playing with his lip and staring across the water. For some reason, him being someone I don’t know well makes it easier to talk. “I should be thrilled to play on women’s teams. But knowing I can stay in a place I love and keep playing with guys who I actually know how to get along with and talk to…I don’t see the point in giving that up. Especially when I’m not even sure what I want to study.”
Bishop scoots closer, searching my face in a way that twinges the feeling of want inside me again. “Pe
“Maybe.” I roll onto my stomach to face him more directly and rest my chin on my arms. It’s so strange. It’s almost like he understands me. “But right now, I feel like the hero, and if I do what I want, I might…” lose it. They might think I wimped out. Was too scared to go.
“If you talked to Gary, he’d feed you some bullshit line about how sometimes we have to hit bottom before we figure out what we want. But you don’t need that. You know what you want, and it’s something that’s cool. Do what you want Pe
A corner of his mouth pulls up in a half-smile, and I stare at his lips. Now the silence feels awkward because there’s a small part of me that wonders what kissing him would feel like, what the ring would feel like pressed against my lips, and the longer I stare the bigger that part gets.
Snap. Out. Now.
“You’re a lot less of an asshole than I figured you’d be when you first got here.”
Bishop snorts as he stands with a real smile this time. “Only you, Pe
I give him a salute and even return his smile, which feels like maybe something new for me. And it might be big.
…
I swap notes on the kitchen table with Mom.
Pe
I flip her paper over and write my own.
Mom - All’s good. No worries. Miss seeing you around.Love, Pe
That’s easier than trying to spit out everything that’s on my mind. Mom and I haven’t talked for real in way too long. I definitely don’t know how to start with a note.
…
School is just school. I do it so I can play hockey. The guys and I are all wound up tight, and Mitch and Rebecca are more attached than ever. Apparently, her dad walked in on them having sex one afternoon and isn’t letting her out of his sight aside from when she’s at school. So. They’re trying to make up for lost alone time…in the hallway.
I’ve definitely been pushed aside for Rebecca because Mitch and I have barely spoken since this whole mess went down a few days ago.
Coach takes it way too easy on us again. We need to really skate, not glide around like figure skaters carrying sticks. Beauty rest. What the hell is that?
I need distraction. When I leave school, I head straight home. I might work on my car or see what Gramps is up to. But with my car comes missing my dad, and some days it’s hard to see Gramps be confused. Some part in the back of my brain wonders if Bishop will be bored. If he’ll be playing drums, or if he’ll be hanging on his porch. Maybe he’ll be up for something.
When I pull up, Bishop’s on his porch, smoking again. I hate cigarettes. They stink. And they make everything else stink. But I’m still glad he’s out here because it makes me feel less stalker-ish in asking him to do something with me. And the weirdest thing happens because I freeze as my hand hits the door handle. What if he says no? I can feel each heartbeat and hate that he’s affecting me and making me feel weak. This is stupid. I’m Pe