Page 3

Chapter 3

Lady Marmalade

Bex

T alking about the future, I should know that avoidance takes effort.

Here I am, enjoying the food, the atmosphere, the music that comes out of speakers set down the entire length of the pier, when Luke and Shane spot the tent of a fortune teller.

“Oh, fun!” my brother squeals. “Madame Svetlana is back.”

“Who’s Madame Svetlana?” I ask.

Luke lowers his voice, his tone conspiratorial. “She’s the fucking best fortune teller in the world. Everything she says comes true. I’m so glad she’s back. For a while there, they had replaced her with a super lame reproduction of The Mouth Of Truth that gave predictions. You know the stone monstrous face in Rome that will bite the hand of anyone who dares to lie with their hand in its mouth?”

I saw the monument Luke is talking about in a documentary about Italy. “I guess. But whether it’s the Mouth Of Truth, or a fortune teller, I doubt anyone can predict the future.”

Luke’s eyes widen. “Bex, how dare you! You’re lucky Madame Svetlana is busy tonight and didn’t hear you,” he says, pointing at the people in line outside the dark purple tent. “I swear to God that woman has a real gift. Everything she says comes to pass.”

“If you say so…” I fight the urge to roll my eyes.

Shane comes to my brother’s defense. “Luke is right, Bex. She predicted that Luke and I would fall in love.”

I’m not convinced. “No disrespect to your fortune teller,” I argue. “But I bet she saw you on a date, and it’s impossible not to notice the chemistry between you two.”

Luke looks at his boyfriend, his gaze immediately turning soft. “On the contrary, sis. When we first met, Shane and I couldn’t stand each other.”

“Really?” I ask, still skeptical.

“I swear, I hated Luke’s guts.” Shane offers. “It wasn’t really Luke’s fault or anything, but we’re the only two gay guys on the hockey team. At least the only two who are out. And from the first practice, our teammates started trying to set us up. How offensive is that?”

I can see his point.

“Yeah,” my brother agrees. “It’s so presumptuous. First off, there are other gay students on campus and in town. I just decided I was never going there just to prove a point.”

Shane chuckles. “Same. But then last year, after our team didn’t make the playoffs, we came out here with the rest of the team.”

Luke nods. “Yes. And a few of us ended up in Madame Svetlana’s tent. We wanted a prediction about this year’s championship.”

They’re so into it that I can’t help but indulge them. “And what did she say? Will you make it to the Frozen Four this year?”

Shane shrugs. “Svetlana couldn’t tell us anything about our hockey season. But she said that two men in her tent were destined to be together.”

Ha. I knew it would be something generic that they interpreted as an omen once things between them changed. “Right, and since you’re the only two who aren’t into girls…”

“No.” Luke interrupts me. “She said that their names started with L and S. And then added that hate would turn into love thanks to a circle.”

I eat the last of my funnel cake, and throw the paper plate in a trash can right behind me. “A circle?”

Shane explains. “Yeah, at first we laughed it off. Luke and I were barely on speaking terms back then. Until about a week later, I was driving back to the Gamma house in the pouring rain after a late study session at the library. I spotted someone who had broken down a few blocks before Greek Row.”

“It was me!” Luke beams. “Shane stopped to help me change a tire, but neither of us had a jack. So I had to call roadside assistance, and he invited me to wait in his car, since it was raining. We got talking, really talking, for the first time, despite having been teammates for almost three years at that point.”

Shane takes his boyfriend’s hand, squeezing it affectionately. “By the time assistance arrived, we were hitting it off. I felt stupid for never even trying to get to know Luke, just to prove our teammates wrong. So I invited him to the Gamma house for a beer.”

“And the rest, like they say,” my brother pulls Shane into a side hug. “Is history.”

I don’t know what type of reaction they expected from me, but I’m far from sold. “Ok. She guessed one thing: big deal. Coincidences happen.”

Shane and Luke argue that it was more than a coincidence. “How could she know our initials? And how could she tell there were two gay guys in her tent?”

I can see their point there. The only thing that could remotely give away Shane and Luke’s sexual orientation is how well dressed and perfectly groomed they are. But other than that, the way they speak, dress and conduct themselves is on par with any heterosexual guys I’ve ever met. If anything, their tall statures and muscular physiques, and the sport they play, would lead to the opposite assumption.

But I’m still not convinced. “Maybe someone said something or she might have seen you out on the pier with a date before. There must be a reasonable explanation. No one can predict the future.”

The last thing I expect is that Connor backs them up. “I hate to agree with them on this point,” he says. “But the old hag knew that I had gotten my heart broken and said that my rival was someone in a position of power. She also said that I would be alone and miserable.”

Damn. “Fuck that.” I shake my head. “I thought fortune tellers weren’t supposed to give bad predictions?”

Connor shrugs. “Yeah, well. I’m that lucky, I guess.”

Luke comes to the fortune teller’s defense. “But you’re forgetting the last part of her prediction. She said that you would be alone and miserable for as long as you held onto your anger over your ex’s betrayal. She didn’t say you’d be alone forever.”

Connor’s green eyes darken as he glares at the tent. “I doubt I’ll ever get over what Fiona did. So I’m probably going to be alone forever.”

The sadness in Connor’s eyes pulls at my heartstrings. If he and I were friends, I would pull him into my arms and hold him tight. But I fight the urge.

The truth is that if Connor were one of my friends from Bridgeport, we would be subject to my father’s no unnecessary physical contact rule.

One person who seems to have no problem with physical contact is Jamie, who slings one arm around my shoulders and one around Connor’s. “Sorry guys,” he grins in Luke's and Shane’s direction. “I have to side with Bex on this one. I don’t believe that anyone can predict the future. But if it was possible, I wouldn’t wanna know if there’s something bad on the horizon. Fuck that.”

Luke argues his point. “She didn’t say anything bad, Connor. It was more of a warning.”

“Yeah, no.” Connor says. “One prediction was more than enough for me.”

My brother pouts. He used to do that all the time when we were kids and he wanted to drag me into one of his “adventures” that would always end up getting us grounded.

“So no one is coming to get their fortune told with me and Shane?”

Jamie chuckles. “You’re on your own, Captain. We’ll be playing some fun games along the pier. Maybe win the pretty girl a giant teddy bear, or something.”

“Ok.” Luke says, joining his boyfriend at the end of the line waiting to see the fortune teller. “We’ll catch up with you later.”

Bex

“Aww, come the fuck on!” Jamie gripes, as his dart misses the balloon again. “This game is fucking rigged.”

Connor backs him. “I agree. Between the two of us, we didn’t win a thing.”

I can’t help but laugh at their shocked expressions. “I think the games are just fine. It’s your aims that need work. Which is crazy for two hockey players. I hope you have better aim with the puck, or your coach has a lot of work to do.”

Their bewildered expressions are the funniest thing I’ve seen in months, maybe years. “Aiming darts at a balloon isn’t like shooting a puck.” Jamie complains.

“Right. Or like shooting down a can with a BB gun.” Connor agrees, referring to another game they failed at.

“Or,” I tease. “Throwing a ball inside a can, which is another thing you guys have trouble with.”

Connor takes offense. “Oh, really? I’m one of the top scorers in our conference amongst defensemen. So my aim is just fine. If you’re so convinced that these games aren’t rigged, why don’t you have a go?” he crosses his arms over his chest, and I can’t help but notice the way his bicep bulges.

My eyes also track the way his t-shirt stretches over his muscular chest. I can only imagine how he looks shirtless.

I must have been ogling him with my mouth wide open, because he eggs me on. “That’s what I thought, Bridezilla. It’s easy to criticize when you don’t have to back your words with action.”

Oh no, he didn’t. “What did you just call me?” I gasp.

Connor chuckles. “You heard me.”

“Fine.” I bite out, stabbing his chest with my index finger. “You’re going to eat your words in a second. And if I win, I want an apology for calling me Bridezilla.”

“Sure.” He counters. “If you lose, you apologize for doubting my aim with the puck. And you’re coming to our first official game in a couple of weeks wearing Star Cove’s colors.”

I wonder if Luke told them anything about me. If they know that until yesterday, I went to Bridgeport U, Star Cove’s biggest rival in their hockey conference.

My father would probably kill me if he saw me in another team’s jersey. Especially Luke’s. My only hope is that he won’t look for me here. As far as he knows, Luke and I are completely estranged.

Guilt twists my insides at the thought that I let him dictate everything about my life. He knew I would never cut my brother off based on his sexual orientation, so he used a more insidious way. He made cutting off the “extra fat”, severing all the connections that weigh us down, a condition for my success. And when every single one of my videos started going viral, I believed he was right. I didn’t realize how much control he got over my life and over every single one of his “clients” until I found myself engaged to someone he chose. Until I almost said I do to?—

“You’ve got yourself a deal.” I say to Connor. “But if I win, you’re going to wear my tiara for the rest of the night.”

His smile widens, his blue eyes shining under the bright lights of the pier. “Bring it.”

Connor’s smile reaches his eyes for the first time tonight, and I do my best to ignore the effect that smile has on me.

“This is the most fun I’ve had this year. If you win,” Jamie joins in, taking his wallet out of the back pocket of his jeans. “I’ll give you a hundred dollars.”

That would be awesome. I have almost no money. Despite being a social media sensation with my dance videos, the lion's share of my earnings went to Pure Shine and into his deep pockets.

“I’m a little short of cash,” I admit. “If I lose, I don’t have a hundred bucks on me.”

Jamie shrugs. “That’s fine. If I win, you’ll dance with me.” He points at the dance floor at the end of the pier, close to the base of the Ferris Wheel. I can think of worse things than dancing with a hot hockey player, so I nod. “Fine. You better say goodbye to that money, though. Because I’m telling you, the games are fine. It’s your aim that just sucks.”

These hockey players have more muscles than sense. I should know because my brother has played hockey since he was old enough to put on a pair of skates, and I was engaged to one.

My mind goes to my ex, Kurt. What is he doing right now? If I had gone through with the wedding, we’d probably be at our reception. Then it would be time for our wedding night. I suppress a shudder at the thought. If I have a say, Kurt will never lay another finger on me as long as I’m living and breathing.

I shake my head to banish the unwanted thoughts, and focus on the challenge in front of me.

“There you go,” the guy at the game stand passes me three darts. “You need to pop at least two balloons to win a prize. Stand by that line on the floor for the distance valid to claim a prize.”

“Piece of cake,” I smile confidently, turning to look at Jamie and Connor behind me.

As I line my first shot, the speakers above us start playing Lady Marmalade, Christina and Pink’s version.

I let the music seep into every fiber of my being. My mind goes to last night again, when I gave Kurt everything and he…

No. This song doesn’t see Lady Marmalade in a bad light. It’s fun, like last night should have been, if I hadn’t been with the wrong guy.

I inhale deeply and throw my first dart.

Pop.

My lips curl in the beginning of a smile. I don’t even need to turn around to see Jamie and Connor’s shocked expressions. I can just picture them from the groans they let out.

“Beginner’s luck.” Jamie taunts me.

“There’s no way you’re going to get another balloon.” Connor says.

This time, I turn to look at him over my shoulder. “Get ready to wear my tiara, princess.”

Without dwelling on it too much, I turn around and throw the second dart.

Pop.

“Aww, fuck!” the guys groan in unison.

My smile widens. “Last one, boys.”

Pop.

I turn around, jumping and swaying my hips to Lady Marmalade.

Jamie shakes his head, chuckling. “Well, fuck. You were right. The games are just fine. Connor and I suck.” he hands me a crisp hundred-dollar bill from his wallet.

For a second, I think I shouldn’t take it. But the balance in my bank account has a grand total of a two digit balance. I’ll have to figure out a way to support myself now that I don’t live in the big Pure Shine mansion on Bridgeport campus.

“Here you go, Connor,” I take off my tiara.

The tall defenseman puts it on his sandy blond hair, popping a hand on his hip. “How do I look?”

Hot. The answer is on the tip of my tongue. I don’t think Connor could ever look anything but dashing. I don’t say that out loud, though.

“Sorry for sounding harsh, dude.” Jamie chuckles. “But Bex wore it a lot better than you.”

Connor’s lips quirk up in a smile. “Yeah, I don’t struggle to believe that.”

“Congratulations.” The guy behind the stand says. “You won a prize.”

I approach the stand as he turns around to get my prize.

“What the—What is that?” I gasp when the man hands me a clear plastic bag filled with water. There’s a red goldfish swimming inside.

“The prize for popping all three balloons, ma’am.”

I open and close my mouth a couple of times, probably resembling the fish that’s looking at me through the plastic of his temporary home. At least he or she has a home. The same can’t be said for me. “I don’t want this. I thought I was going to get a plush animal, or a fidget toy. Even a deck of cards would have made more sense than a fish. Besides, is it even legal to give out a living creature as a prize?”

The guy shrugs, clearly not interested in a debate with me. “I have no idea, ma’am. I just work here during the weekends. If you have any concerns, you need to speak to the stand’s owner.”

Deflated, I walk away carrying the plastic bag with my new friend inside it. “What am I gonna do with you?” I ask the pretty goldfish.

The creature swims right to the edge of the bag, looking at me with imploring eyes. If a fish can have imploring eyes, I might be projecting here.

“I guess I’m in charge of your wellbeing, at least for now, huh?”

“I think you should name it,” Jamie suggests, walking next to me.

Connor is on my other side. “True, and maybe find it a better place to live than a plastic bag.”

They’re both right. But neither of those two things is easy.

“What should we call you?” I muse. “I don’t even know if you’re a boy or a girl. What do you guys think?”

Connor shrugs. “What about fish?”

“Dude,” Jamie snorts. “Can you think of anything more unoriginal? Maybe we should call it Connor.”

The defenseman flips off his teammate. “Ha ha. You’re so fucking funny.”

I stop in the middle of the boardwalk. “I think you’re a girl.” I don’t know that, but if I had a pet, I’d choose a girl, so I’m gonna go with it. “Lady Marmalade. I think that’s the perfect name for you.” I decide.

Jamie smiles. “I like it, it’s cute.”

“Now the only thing we need to do is to find you a better home than this bag.” I say.

Connor has an idea. “It’s not going to be a permanent solution, but I think we can give her a little upgrade tonight. Wait here.”

Jamie and I watch as he runs into the bar where we started.

He comes out a couple of minutes later, offering me a glass pitcher with Star Cove written in gold and blue on it. “It isn’t perfect, but I think it’s a little better than a plastic bag. I also got a bottle of water in case we need to top her up.”

We’re back in front of the bar where we started.

“I hope she doesn’t need to live in special water,” I say, finding the only empty table outside. There are a few half-empty glasses and a couple of plates with scraps of food, but I don’t care. We aren’t staying. I just need a flat surface to try to relocate Lady Marmalade to her new temporary home.