Page 39 of Offside Attraction

So right now, the last thing I want is my mom being friends with Kim Griffin. The next thing, they’ll be hanging out at each other’s houses, having family dinners like we’re all one big happy circle. I don’t want that. Seeing Hayes every day at school is already too much—being forced to interact with him outside of school? I can’t. We’d be at each other’s throats every chance we get.

And why would my mom even be interested in the Griffins? They’re upper class, old money. Even though we’re doing better now—better than we were four years ago—we don’t move in the same circles. We never have.

Why would she want to force herself into that kind of life?

“You know the Griffins aren’t bad,” Mom says.

“Yeah, so?” I snap. “You can’t be friends with them.”

“We’re not friends. It was just one conversation. And I know you don’t like the idea of Mark working at their hospital—”

I open my mouth to argue, but Mom raises her palm, stopping me.

“I’m your mother. I know you,” she says calmly. “I just want to know if whatever drama you have going on with Hayes is over.”

“It’s over.”

“Good. I hear he’s a good boy. At least that’s what Kim said.”

I scoff, heat rising in my chest. I want this conversation to end—now.

“Yeah. Whatever.”

“And don’t get mad,” she continues, “but the Griffins invited us to dinner at their place next weekend, and Mark and I agreed.”

“What?” I whip my head toward her. “What?!”

“We had to. Mark works at their hospital, and honestly, it didn’t seem like a bad idea. It’s just dinner.”

“Just dinner?” I laugh harshly. “I can’t believe you. You already like her, and now you’re just going to start hanging out like this is normal?”

“It’s not a big deal,” Mom insists. “Kim is beautiful and kind. I just want to get to know her. You don’t like her son, I get that—but does that mean I’m not allowed to be friends with his mother?”

“You know what Hayes did!”

“That was four years ago,” she says. “You need to let it go. He was a child. Kids do stupid things.”

Of course.

I scoff, dropping the ice cream scoop back into the bowl with a dull thud before storming out of the kitchen and through the living room door, ignoring my mother calling after me.

CHAPTER 8

“Dakota,myman,”Trippsays Monday morning as I walk up to my locker, a grin stretched wide across his face.

He’s leaning against my locker like he owns it, way too damn cheerful for this early in the morning. I stop in front of him, narrowing my eyes.

“What are you so happy about?”

“Oh.” He pushes himself upright. “I just figured I should be the first person to congratulate you on making the hockey team.” He slaps my back, still grinning like an idiot.

Yeah. I made the team.

Honestly, I’m surprised. Hayes made it his personal mission to remind me that my chances of making the team restedsolelyin his hands—which was partially true. He’s the captain. His opinion carries weight. But either his threats were empty, or Coach Rivera didn’t give a damn what he had to say.

Probably the latter.

Coach Rivera knew my dad. He watched me play back in middle school. He knew I had talent.