Page 4

Grant

First rule of staying on Cami’s good side: always do what she says and do not question her.

“So, we are picking someone up…” I probe, and it's technically not a question, so that I won't get in trouble.

“Yes.” She sighs, irritated and keeps her eyes on her phone. She has given up being nice to me now that I am on board with her plan.

“Cool, cool, cool.” I tap the steering wheel. “Little last minute.”

“It was an emergency,” she snaps again, and I flinch as she types away quickly on her phone.

“Right, right, right,” I say. “In Beacon Valley?”

Beacon Valley is a fancy town on the river, an hour away from campus, and I would put money on Cami never having stepped foot here, as her family runs a rink in the city.

“Yes,” she huffs. Most people would think Cami is being a massive bitch, but I’ve learned her irritable nature is a big front. She can be grumpy one minute and then fun and chatty the next, once she’s got out of her head.

Whatever the reason, we are heading to Beacon Valley, and she must be stressed out.

“Okay, okay, okay.”

“Are you okay?” She finally looks at me, snapping, “Why do you keep repeating things in threes?”

Well, she has got me there. “I’m good.” I force a smile, turning back to the road. We are in a much flashier part of Beacon Valley, which is saying something since the other parts are still nice. “I’m just eager to get back to the party.”

“Ah, of course, which girl is it tonight? Katy again?”

“Who?” I ask, confused.

“Katy?” she repeats before rolling her eyes. “That’s who you were talking to last night at the apartment?”

Huh? I could have sworn her name was Kendra. We threw a last-minute, move-in day party last night, and the apartment was a wreck this morning, but it was worth it, as Kend-, I mean Katy, stayed all night; we didn't get much sleep.

“Will you ever stop fooling around?” She sighs, rechecking her phone.

Stop fooling around? Have a steady relationship and be distracted from hockey? Fuck no. “I’m a busy guy, Cam.” I shrug, and she snorts. “I haven’t got time for anything else with hockey.”

“I just don’t think I could ever be casual with anyone like that.” She sighs, examining her nails in front of her.

“It’s easy. Lay down the rules and enjoy.” I laugh as she hits me.

“Pig,” she mutters, shaking her head and looking out the window. I know she doesn’t mean it to be hurtful, more that she disagrees with the way I treat girls.

Not that I mistreat them, I just don’t have any plans to settle down with one girl. Hockey is my focus.

“Come on, you must get it with skating,” I say, turning down another street. “You must want to focus without distractions.”

“I prefer someone to talk about my day, too.” She lifts her nose at my suggestion of casual. “It’s nice to have someone to depend on.”

I frown for a second, trying to think if I have ever really had that, other than with my parents.

I am interrupted as the GPS announces we have arrived at our destination, but there is no one standing outside the large house in front of us. I look at Cami for instructions.

“Um, pull around the back?” she suggests, pointing to the corner.

I turn around the side of the house and do as she says. “Who are we picking up the president?” I quip and chuckle at my joke.

“No, idiot,” she snaps at me while typing on her phone and looks up at the street.

There is a dead end, but standing on the sidewalk is a girl covered head to toe in mud. I look over at Cami, and her expression is the same, mouth open in shock.

“B?” Cami says hesitantly, slowly getting out of the car.

The girl whirls around, revealing even more mud and leaves stuck to her front, face, and hair. “Cami,” she cries, walking towards her. “I fell down the stupid hill.”

She cries some more, and to Cami’s credit, she hugs the girl, who sobs against her and gets herself covered in mud. I look up the hill, and a fence surrounds what I’m assuming is the house we were just in front of, but you can’t see it with all the trees covering it.

The dead end is the end of the neighbourhood, and this fence goes on for longer than any of the other houses.

Who is this girl?

I get out of the car and stand next to my door, being unhelpful, but I am not sure what I can do aside from waiting.

My phone buzzes from the centre console, and I reach over and read the text from Gunnar, saying some girls have been asking about me at the party.

That lights a little fire under me, and I shout over to Cami.

“Er, Cam, should we maybe get your friend out of here?”

“Right,” she says hurriedly, and nods at her friend for confirmation. “Right.”

She guides her over to my jeep, and I realise my back seat is about to get dirt all over it. The girl looks sheepishly at me, and I shrug back because, come on, she's covered in mud, what do I do, make her take a cab?

She murmurs a quiet, “I’m sorry,” before hopping in, and Cami gets in the back on the other side.

I get back in the driver’s seat and great, now I'm a taxi driver. I pull back around the corner and head home, guessing that Cami’s friend will not be coming back to the party with us.

“What the hell happened, B?” Cami asks, and I look into the rearview mirror.

The girl just shakes her head at Cami. “I climbed out of the bathroom window; I thought I could jump the fence, but I slipped down the hill.” She sniffles, rubbing her nose with the back of her hand.

“No, I kind of guessed,” Cami says patiently, which is a side of her I have rarely witnessed. “But why were you climbing out the window?”

“I couldn’t go out the front,” she replies. “Everyone was waiting for me.”

“Waiting for what?” Cami catches my eye in the rearview mirror, her brows furrowed.

“For Josh to propose.” She cries again, and Cami says nothing, just rubs the girl’s back.

She has got to be the same age as Cami, so twenty-one, and someone is already trying to propose to her. Damn.

The drive after is quiet aside from this B girl’s phone vibrating every couple of minutes. Cami’s hand does not leave her friend’s, occasionally checking in with a whisper too quiet for me to hear.

Once we get back to the apartment, I park, and we all get out. Cami guides her friend to the apartment steps, and I walk to the bottom with them. “Are you heading back to the party?” Cami asks, and I nod in response. “Thanks for tonight, Grant,” she says in a rare show of Cami Logan’s gratitude.

“No problem,” I say, hugging her. “I hope she’s okay, and call me if someone needs their ass-kicking. I’ll round up the guys.”

She smiles and catches up to her friend, who has already walked up the steps, putting an arm around her shoulder.

I’m still watching as Cami unlocks the door, and I’m thinking the girl under all that mud might be beautiful.

Like, stop-you-in-your-tracks kind of beautiful.

She surprises me and turns and raises her hand in a small wave.

I wave back and wait for them both to walk in the door, then I hop in my jeep, hoping I have not ruined my whole evening.