Page 24 of Fake Skating

I groaned when my alarm went off, because I was not a fan of mornings.

At all.

That being said, I turned it off and jumped out of bed because I wanted time to “casually” chat with my mom before Alec showed up. I couldn’t guarantee he wasn’t going to run into the kitchen and hijack the narrative, so I had to get to her first.

“Good morning,” I said to my mom as I went into the kitchen and straight for the cupboard. “Are we ever going to use our kitchen in the apartment upstairs?”

“I’m sure we will,” she said. “But this one is bigger and brighter, and the cabinets are always stocked. Since I haven’t really grocery shopped since we moved here, I gravitate toward the one with food.”

“Okay, fair,” I said, pulling out a little bag of Hostess Powdered Donettes. “Can I have some of these?”

“Sure,” she said.

“I just want to make sure they aren’t Grandpa’s,” I said, because my mom never bought teensy trash donuts (that were delicious).

“He’s your grandpa, so I’m sure he wants you to help yourself to anything in the pantry,” she said.

“Hmm.” I took the white bag over to the table and sat down, still a little unsure if I should be eating the sugary donuts.

“By the way…” My mom cleared her throat and looked weird. “Have you talked to Dad lately? Is something going on with him?”

“Why?” I asked, feeling like my stomach suddenly weighed more than usual.

“I don’t know… he sent me this voice memo where he was being really nice, saying that we are adults and that, because of you, he wants to make sure we have a good relationship.”

“That sounds nice,” I said, instantly stressed, because what was he up to? Was he trying to butter her up so he could talk to her about me possibly moving? That couldn’t be it, because he’d hung up on me for not loving the idea, right?

“It does, but it sounds a little too nice,” she said.

“Dad can be nice,” I said, even though I wholeheartedly agreed with her suspicion.

“Bullshit,” my grandpa said with a fake cough as he walked into the kitchen.

That irritated me, though Mom beat me to any response. “Dad, don’t.”

“I was just coughing,” he said, going over to the cupboard and pulling out his mug, the same old North Stars mug he’d used for my entire life.

I don’t know what got into me when I asked, “When was the last time you saw him? Like five years ago? And before that you maybe talked to him once, twice a year? Do you really know him?”

Though I was annoyed with my grandpa, the ask was sincere.

He crossed his arms and looked surprised by my questions. “I know enough, trust me.”

Okay…

“Are you eating my Donettes?” he asked with his eyebrows down.

“Mom said they were for everyone.”

“She was right if everyone means me,” he growled.

“You’re not going to share your donuts with your granddaughter?” my mom asked, looking irritated by the entire conversation.

“Not if she’s gonna defend that jackass you used to be married to.”

“Language, Dad,” my mom said before turning to me, and then, anticipating my sarcastic response, quickly blurted out, “But back to my initial question—you didn’t have any unusual conversations with Dad or anything?

I’ve known him long enough to know that when he gets all nice like this, it’s usually because he’s setting me up for something. ”

“No,” I lied, injecting my voice with all sorts of casual. My stomach knotted with guilt as I looked at her, because I loved my mom more than anyone in the world. I shouldn’t be lying to her.

But I also wasn’t going to bring up the conversation we’d had, because how would that even go?

Hey, Dad was trying to see if I would move to Omaha and leave you behind and I didn’t exactly tell him no because I want him to move back to the States.

Yeah, no.

I was beyond happy when I heard the sound of Alec’s noisy car pulling into the driveway, saving me from having to lie anymore. I hopped up from the table, grabbing my backpack.

“I don’t need a ride today because Alec is picking me up,” I blurted out, opening the fridge to grab a Red Bull.

“What?” my mom asked, looking surprised.

“Who the hell is Alec,” Grandpa Mick asked in that not-a-question tone of his.

“Alec Barczewski, Sarah and John’s boy,” my mom said, still looking at me like she was trying to figure things out.

He took off his readers. “Who?”

I wanted to roll my eyes but I didn’t. “Zeus? The one you said reminds you of, like, Conners or Krampus or—”

“Kronwall,” he said, closing the newspaper with a sigh. “Niklas Kronwall. They both backpedal hit—”

A knock sounded at the kitchen door, interrupting my grandpa’s hockey briefing.

I’d hoped to run outside and avoid this, but here we were. I opened the door, and once again, I was unprepared for Alec’s appearance.

He was wearing black joggers and a Southview jersey—nothing unusual—but his size kept surprising me. I was five-seven, yet he seemed to be like a foot taller than me.

And a filled-out tall boy, not some gangly stick guy.

“Good morning, Collins,” he said, grinning down at me.

He smelled good, like he’d just stepped out of the shower, and I put my hand on my stomach to quell whatever riot was happening when he smiled at me that way.

“Good morning, Barczewski,” I said. “We were just talking about you.”

“Obsessed already,” he teased, his eyes moving all over my face.

It’s only an act, I reminded myself, because one second of his flirting was already showing me just how powerful it could be.

Dear God .

“It was him, actually,” I said, pointing to the table. “My grandpa thinks you backpedal hit like a cornball.”

It was comical, the way Alec’s face immediately changed when he looked at my grandpa. The teasing went away and he looked like a nervous little boy, like a kid who had no idea what to say.

His throat moved around a swallow, and my eyes got a little stuck on his neck.

Grandpa Mick shook his head like I was pathetic. “For God’s sake, I said you hit like Kronwall ,” he corrected.

“Oh.” Alec looked like he definitely didn’t know what to say when he was being complimented by my grandpa. “Thank you.”

“Hey, kid,” my mom said to Alec with a big smile. “Thanks for being her chauffeur today.”

“I figured you needed a break from this one,” he said, again with the cute teasing.

“We should go,” I said, looking back and forth between him and my mom, who was freaking beaming .

“You’ve got everything you need?” she asked. “You have lunch money?”

“Yep,” I said, noticing the way Alec looked at me like he knew I was pocketing her money and avoiding the cafeteria entirely.

“Text me later so I know how things are going,” my mom said, pulling me in for a big hug.

“I will.” I took a deep breath, feeling like a little kid as I inhaled the Eternity she’d worn my entire life, and wished I could just stay home with her all day long.

“You guys ready for tonight?” my grandpa asked, zero warmth in his tone.

I pulled back from my mom as Alec gave Grandpa Mick a nod. “Eagan’s playing good hockey right now, but as long as we stick to our game, they shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Right, another game tonight.” I groaned. “Please tell me there won’t be another pep rally.”

“No, that one covered the rest of the season, so you’re safe.”

“Thank God.”

Alec held open the door for me as we left, and as soon as the cold air blasted me in the face, I was filled with nervousness, because what was I doing?

Like, was I seriously going to do this?

Also—what the hell was Alec driving?

It was a silver car, but the bumper and one of the side panels were black, like they’d been taken from another vehicle.

And he was missing the passenger mirror.

I didn’t care about cars, but I would’ve thought someone as slick and smooth as “Zeus” would drive something monster-sized that he called a chickmobile or something.

“Don’t judge Burrito,” he said as I opened the passenger door. “She isn’t pretty, but she’s reliable.”

“It’s more than I’ve got, so no judgment,” I said. There hadn’t been a reason for me to get my license at Ramstein, so I was still like a middle schooler with no wheels and no prospects.

“Good morning, Dani,” I heard, and when I turned, I saw Benji standing beside his running Maserati in his driveway, smiling.

“Oh, hey, Ben,” I said, uncomfortable after what had happened the night before.

“Hey, there, Benji ,” Alec said, giving my neighbor a total dickish smirk. “Do all the Cadets have douchebag cars, or is it just you?”

“We can’t all drive pieces of shit held together by duct tape, bro.”

“I’m not your bro, asshole,” Alec said before climbing into the car and slamming the door.

Neither of us spoke as he backed out of the driveway, and I was stunned for a second to hear “Dopamine” playing in his car because I loved that song. As far as I knew, it wasn’t a radio hit, so did that mean, like… Did he like it too?

Focus, Dani!

I scrambled to get my words together to ease whatever tension was rolling off Alec thanks to Benji, but also because I’d come up with my own demands for this “fake dating” situation.

I opened my mouth to start when he said, “By the way—are you okay?”

I looked over at his profile while he kept his eyes on the road, having zero idea what he was talking about. “What?”

He shot me a look for a brief second, his dark eyes moving over my face before he went back to the road. “Whatever the colonel did to make you upset yesterday—are you good now?”

Oh.

“Um, yeah, I suppose,” I said with a shrug, because I was shocked that he was asking. “He’s just being… y’know, Dad , I guess.”

Alec looked at me like he understood, but before he could derail me further with unexpected concern, I jumped in.“So listen. I’ve been thinking about your proposition, and I have a counteroffer.”

“Oh?” He glanced over again, and my face must’ve been intimidating or something, because he said, “Oh God.”

“Yes, you probably should call out to him.”