ANDIE’S PUFFY, sad eyes make my chest ache. My chest that’s supposed to be a locked-down, barricaded monstrosity. Somehow, my stupid therapy is making me feel things, even though I haven’t really opened up to Dr. Curtis that much. Or maybe it’s Andie that’s making me feel things.
The problem is, I don’t want to feel this way. But at the same time, it feels good.
No, good isn’t the right word. It feels terrifying, but in a not-bad way, like getting your first tattoo.
I notice Noah glancing at his sister a few times as well, his brows scrunching together in concern.
Finally, I ask, “Is your sister okay?”
He quirks a brow, probably surprised I’m asking about her, and I hope he doesn’t think I’m just like the kids who tease him and think about how hot she is. I definitely think about the latter, but I’d never tease him about it.
“I don’t know. I think she’s upset about the gym.”
“The gym?” I ask, feeling more confused.
Noah’s working on backwards skating exercises, so I flip around and skate backward beside him while he explains, “She wanted to start lifting weights again, so she ordered equipment for a home gym.” He pauses, concentrating on his movements. “She said she wasn’t tall enough to get the squat rack assembled.” He stops and glances over at his sister again. “She seemed really upset about it.”
“I’m tall,” I blurt before I can stop myself. Not wanting to sound desperate, I clear my throat and add, “and I have lots of tall… friends.” The word friends feels weird on my tongue. Like eating Pop Rocks and drinking soda at the same time.
“You think you and your… friends,” Noah says the word friends with a smirk like he realizes how uncomfortable it makes me. “Could help?”
I shrug my shoulders. “Probably.”
He nods slowly. “Alright. Maybe then she wouldn’t be so sad. I guess she really wants to work out.”
I almost chuckle at his comment, there has to be more going on inside that head of hers. And I want to know what it is. I want to be the person she confides her deepest thoughts to. And I’m the last person she should want to do that with.
“So, what’s your address?”
Noah’s mouth slowly pulls up in a wide smile.
Not even twenty-four hours later, I’m standing in front of Andie and Noah’s front door, about to ring the doorbell. I pause when I hear tittering and whispers behind me. I turn to glare at Bruce and Colby, who are being obnoxious. What was I thinking, bringing them in on this?
Remy shares my look of annoyance and elbows Colby in the side. West had a date night planned with Mel, so at least that’s one less annoying hockey player.
“Would you guys shut up?”
“Sorry!” Colby whisper-yells. “I just can’t believe you have a crush.”
“I don’t have a crush,” I respond a little too quickly and they start quietly laughing again.
“Riiiiiight,” Bruce says with a wink.
Remy groans.
Closing my eyes and taking a deep breath, I turn toward the door and ring the doorbell.
After a beat, the door opens and Noah stands there, his eyes are wide as he takes in the four of us. I can tell he’s a little starstruck. More by my teammates than myself. He’s wearing a red Eagles jersey with Remy’s number on the shoulders.
I make a note to get him one with my number instead.
“Hi,” he breathes out nervously. “C-c-c-ome in.”
The four of us step inside the small entryway, we’re shoulder to shoulder in the tight space. I notice a family photo of Noah and Andie, with who I assume are their parents. I can see similar features between him and his dad, but he has his mother’s eyes. Andie is an exact replica of her mother, though. Just a younger version. I look away from the picture, feeling like I’m intruding somehow.
“Noah? Who is it?” Andie yells from another room.
Noah starts to turn toward her voice, waving his arm for us to follow him. We walk down the skinny hallway single file since that’s the only way we’ll fit, and enter an open living room and dining room area. It’s painted a cheerful yellow color. The kitchen is messy with lunch boxes and water bottles, dirty dishes still in the sink. But it’s a nice home despite being lived-in.
Andie stands from the sofa, remote in hand, and gapes at us. “Uhh,” is all she can say as she takes us in, which is fine, because that also gives me time to look at her.
She’s wearing little pink shorts with hearts on them, showing off her incredible, muscled legs. Her tank top says, I like big books and I cannot lie, with a picture of a book stack on it. Her blonde hair is in a crazy pony-tail right on top of her head, and she’s wearing white, fuzzy socks that come up over her knees.
She’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.
Andie finally finds her voice. “Noah… why are there four giants in our home? Is there a magical beanstalk nearby I don’t know about?”
I glance over my shoulder at the guys. Remy’s eyebrows are high on his forehead, most likely surprised she doesn’t recognize them. Remy isn’t cocky, it’s just that the Eagles are a big deal in D.C., it’s nearly impossible to go anywhere without being recognized.
Bruce is biting the insides of his cheeks, trying not to laugh, and Colby looks like he’s about to burst from holding in his own laughter. I give them a look of warning, then turn back to Andie.
“Noah didn’t tell you we were coming?” I ask.
She crosses her arms over her book shirt and glares at Noah, who’s now standing beside her. “Nope.” She pops the p for extra impact and her brother takes a step away from her.
I scratch the back of my head, feeling suddenly very weird about this. “We’re here to help with the gym.”
Andie looks from me to the guys behind me again and lifts her hands up to mess with her hair. The movement makes her tank top ride up just enough for me to notice that her belly button is an outie.
I gulp. That might be even cuter than her dimple.
“You seriously don’t need to do that. We’ll figure it out.” Her hands settle on her hips now, she can’t stop fidgeting.
I feel bad that we invaded her space. But in my defense, Noah was supposed to give her a warning like an hour ago. I should’ve just texted her about it, but I knew she’d come up with excuses or just flat out say no. But she needs height, and we have that in spades.
“Where’s the gym, blondie? We’re not leaving until your equipment is safely assemble—”
“What’s a sassy jar?” Colby interrupts from behind me. My eyes follow Andie’s to a hot pink glass jar that’s been bedazzled with fake gems and has a huge label on it that says sassy jar. The jar is stuffed full of cash. Almost overflowing.
She runs over to the kitchen counter and grabs the jar off of it, sticking it inside the nearest cabinet. “Oh, that’s nothing.”
“Andie has a potty mouth. She has to put a dollar in the jar every time she swears,” Noah tells us, ratting out his poor sister.
She gasps and pins him with the meanest look she can muster. But it looks more like the face of a cute, angry kitten. “Have you no loyalty!?”
Noah tries to hide his grin, unsuccessfully. Remy, Bruce, and Colby chuckle. I try to hide the smirk that’s trying so hard to creep up, but it’s difficult.
“But she says when we have enough we’ll do something fun,” Noah adds, trying to get back into his sister’s good graces.
She harumphs and crosses her arms.
Bruce says, “Looks to me like you already have enough to do something pretty fun.”
Remy clears his throat. “So, where’s the gym?” he asks Andie, then turns to me. “We should get started.”
She sighs in resignation. “Noah, show them where the gym is.” She glances down at her fuzzy socks and turns a bright shade of pink, somewhere between a strawberry and a tomato. She must’ve just remembered she’s in her PJ’s. “I’m going to change.”
She darts across the room toward the staircase that’s across from the kitchen. The woman moves so quickly up those stairs, you would think someone was chasing her.
“This way,” Noah says, leading the way again.
Ten minutes later, we’re all stuffed inside the downstairs bedroom. Bruce is holding up the top piece of the squat rack while Remy screws in the bolts. Colby and I are assembling the dumbbell rack, and Noah is holding a container full of screws, handing them to us when we ask. We already have things well in hand, it won’t take us more than an hour to get everything put together.
Andie walks through the doorway looking calmer now. She’s changed into dark pink leggings and a white hoodie… but I’ll never get the image of her bare legs out of my head.
“Sorry about earlier… I was a little caught off guard. What are your names again? I’m Andie.” She smiles and looks at my teammates.
Remy smiles politely back at her and says, “I’m Ford, but everyone calls me Remy. Nice meeting you.”
She squints, looking at the three men more closely. “Oh my gosh. I’m so dumb! You guys were at the game.”
Bruce chuckles. “Hard to recognize us without the sunglasses, eh?”
She laughs. “You’re… Bruce, right?”
“That’s me!” He grins. When she turns her attention to Colby, Bruce looks at me and waggles his eyebrows.
“And you are…”
“Colby, ma’am. At your service!”
“Colby…” She scratches her chin and taps her foot, her toe nails are painted hot pink with white daisies. “Why does that sound so familiar?”
“Hockey,” Noah whispers.
Andie’s eyes widen and her head snaps toward Noah, then to me. “Are these your teammates??”
“Wow. You catch on quick,” I jab.
Andie smacks a palm against her forehead. “You guys must think I’ve been living under a rock.”
Bruce and Colby snicker, but Remy looks unconvinced that anyone could really be this clueless.
“So you really don’t know anything about hockey?” Colby asks.
“Zilch,” she answers, not even having to think about it.
Remy’s eyes squint and I can tell an idea is brewing inside that quiet head of his. “How about a little game of trivia? Just to confirm your lack of hockey knowledge.”
Andie crosses her arms and widens her stance. “Game on. What are the stakes?”
“For every answer you get correct, I’ll put a dollar in the sassy jar,” Remy explains. I’m not sure if he doesn’t believe her, or if he’s just playing around.
When you’re in our position, it’s difficult to trust people.
Colby slaps his knee. “I’m in! I’ll throw a dollar in for every correct answer too.”
“Me too!” Bruce says with a smile.
Andie grimaces and looks at her brother. “Noah, I apologize in advance for how disappointed you’re about to be with me.”
I smile and shake my head. Remy finishes screwing a bolt into the top of the rack and takes a step back. “Question one. It’s easy. Who’s the all time top goal scorer in the NHL?”
Andie stares blankly back at him, it’s obvious she has no clue. I stifle a laugh.
Colby tries to help her out and offers a clue, “It rhymes with lame pretzky.”
“Umm.” She bites her bottom lip. “Blane Letzky?”
Bruce, Colby, Noah and Remy all groan in unison. I can’t stop the laugh that thunders out of me, drawing everyone’s attention. My teammates, Andie, and even Noah gape at me like I’m a unicorn or something.
“How is me laughing crazier than Andie not knowing who Wayne Gretzky is?” I ask no one in particular.
Bruce closes his eyes and starts massaging his temples. “There’s too much weird stuff happening right now, my brain can’t comprehend.”
“Don’t be so dramatic,” Andie teases. “How was I supposed to know who this Wayne guy is?”
“Everyone knows who Wayne Gretzky is,” Noah tells her.
She throws her hands up in the air dramatically. Remy and Bruce grab another iron beam for the squat rack and start attaching it to the sides. Remy looks deep in thought, probably trying to think of a question that might be easier for her. Colby still looks like he’s in shock, as does Bruce.
Finally, Remy speaks again, “Okay, question two. In hockey, what’s an announcer referring to when he says biscuit?”
Andie’s shoulders slump. “Biscuit?” She repeats it like it’s from a language she’s never heard. “Is it like… the team dog… or a mascot?”
Bruce makes a whimpering sound like he’s about to cry. Colby’s mouth falls open in shock. Noah and Remy just shake their heads.
“The biscuit is referring to the puck, Blondie,” I explain.
She glares at me, then turns back to Remy. “Okay, the first two don’t count. Give me another one.”
He eyes her skeptically, but asks, “Who’s currently the team captain for the D.C. Eagles?”
Myself, Noah, Bruce and Colby look directly at Remy, trying to convey that she’s literally speaking to the team captain.
But she doesn’t even notice, completely missing our silent clue. Andie groans, “These questions are way too hard!”
The room erupts in laughter. We’re all laughing so loud it must sound like thunder to her neighbors. Even Remy has tears in his eyes… or maybe that’s from disappointment and not humor.
“Sorry Blondie,” Remy uses my nickname for her. “You’re a lost cause.”
“Ask me what a hat trick is!” She raises her voice defensively. “I know that one! Or, or the colors of the jerseys!”
Colby scoffs. “I’d rather drop a hundo in your jar right now than suffer through any more of this.”
“Same,” Bruce admits.
“Fine. But I’d like to see you guys try to place an I.V.” She sighs heavily and shifts on her feet. “Well, can I get everyone something to drink, at least? I was about to make myself a piña colada before you all got here.”
Colby looks up from the instructions he was reading and says, “I’m down!”
“Me too,” Bruce says, then starts singing the old song about loving piña coladas.
Remy nods. “I need something stronger after that… but I’ll settle for a piña colada.”
Andie meets my gaze, and I swear her eyes soften. It’s like they went from dark chocolate to melted chocolate. There’s a silent question in her eyes. Her look conveys more than do you want a piña colada. Maybe I’m reading into her look, convincing myself she’s feeling something she’s not…. but I’d like to tell her I’d like a helluva lot more than a piña colada.
Being overwhelmed by her looking at me like that, I blurt, “I don’t drink.”
“Oh,” She starts, looking a bit surprised, but recovers quickly. “How about pink lemonade?”
I feel a now familiar tug at the corners of my mouth, like my body is willing me to smile. Holding back smiles used to be easy… until Andie. The girl who has pink lemonade and piña coladas in January.
“Yeah, that’d be great.”
She smiles and widens her eyes at her brother. He understands her meaning and follows after her to help with the drinks.
Colby grabs the front of his t-shirt and starts tugging at the collar of it. “Damn, is it hot in here? Or was that just the steam from Andie and Mitch’s heated eye contact?”
“Oh, it was definitely from the eye contact,” Remy states matter of factly. I glare at him, he’s supposed to be the mature, level-headed one of the group.
Bruce whistles. “The chemistry between you guys almost makes up for the fact that she’s never heard of Wayne Gretzky.”
“Almost,” Colby agrees.
