Pucking Only (Night Hawks Hockey #2)

Prologue Girls Are Gross

SKYLER

“Skyler, what do you want to be when you grow up?”

Frowning, I look up from the Electronic Gaming Monthly magazine I’m reading and meet the bright blue gaze of my best friend, Grace. I’m sitting on her bedroom floor, my back pressed to the wall. She’s on her stomach on her bed, kicking her feet in the air behind her. Grace’s room is girlier than mine, but I like being here. Her walls are painted a soft pink and covered with posters of her favorite boy bands and teen actors. The posters are lined up perfectly, matching how organized and tidy the rest of her room is.

“Ummm…” I murmur, shrugging. “I want to make video games.”

Grace lets out a burst of laughter. “But video games are for boys. Do you know of any women who are game designers?”

“I don’t know, but by the time we’re adults, I’m sure there will be tons,” I insist. “Why shouldn’t I be able to make them? Just because I’m a girl… it’s so fucking dumb.”

Grace flinches at my curse word. She tucks a loose strand of her brown hair behind her ear and says, “That’s just the way it is. It’s not fair, but what can you do? ”

“What do you want to be?” I ask, curiously.

Grace sighs and waves her own Teen Vogue magazine back and forth as she considers her answer. As I watch her, I can’t help but admire how pretty she is. Her hair is thick and wavy. She always wears cute clothes, like flowy pink dresses and colorful leggings. She dresses like most other fifteen-year-old girls do. Meanwhile, my dirty blonde hair is always in a ponytail because I don’t know what else to do with it, and I have to wear stupid, nerdy glasses. I’m usually content with my regular jeans and t-shirt, but today — considering what I’m planning to do while I’m here — I wish I had cuter clothes, like Grace. My Super Mario T-shirt is not likely to turn heads.

“I like taking pictures with my mom’s camera,” she finally answers. “Maybe I could be a photographer or something.”

“I could definitely see that,” I nod. “You’ve got a real eye for detail. I love your photos.”

“Thanks,” Grace says with a wide grin. “There’s got to be something I can do. Something creative. Something that makes me, I don’t know, matter.”

“You matter,” I tell her with a frown. “Why do you think you don’t matter?”

She shrugs. “It’s hard to shine in my superstar brother’s shadow.”

I’m just about to interrupt Grace to tell her how wrong she is, when we both hear her mom calling her from downstairs.“Grace? Can you come down here, sweetie? I need your help with something quick.”

“Coming, Mom!” Grace shouts back. She jumps to her feet and looks back down at me. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

“All right,” I reply, as she runs out of the room.

Waiting until I can’t hear her footsteps anymore I scramble off the floor. This is my chance. I couldn’t sneak away when Grace was in the room, but now that she’s distracted, I can go do what I’ve been planning since I got here. Grace is my best friend and I come to her house all the time to hang out, but today, I’m not here because of that. I’m not here for Grace. Not really.

I’m here for Carson.

Sneaking out of Grace’s room, I hurry down the hall toward Carson’s room. I pass the bathroom and quickly make a stop to check my reflection in the mirror. I push my glasses up my nose and try to smooth back some wispy strands from my ponytail. After a few seconds, I give up. There’s not a ton I can do right now, so I just have to go with it. Turning from the mirror, I continue down the hall to Carson’s room. His door is open. I poke my head inside, but he’s not there. I frown. Dang it! Where could he be?

I gaze around his room for a moment, marveling at the difference between Grace and Carson, even though they’re twins. Unlike Grace’s immaculate space, Carson’s is a mess, like any typical boy’s room would be. Hockey posters are plastered across his walls, along with images of hot actresses in action and comedy movies, like Angelina Jolie, Jessica Simpson, and Megan Fox, which make me roll my eyes. Clothes litter the floor. His bed isn’t made. Being this close to his personal space makes my heart race, even if it’s messy and a little gross.

Leaving his doorway, I continue down the hall to the back staircase, which leads to the back door of the house. If he’s not in his room, he might be out in the yard. He doesn’t usually hang out with us when I’m over, and he spends a lot of time in the backyard by himself.

I tiptoe down the stairs and reach the back door. Pausing, I listen to make sure Grace and her mom aren’t coming to find me. Their voices are soft and sound far away, so I think they’re still toward the front part of the house .

Sucking in a deep breath, I cross to the back door and open it. Slipping outside onto the deck, I pause and look around the yard. My gaze lands on Carson, and my heart immediately starts to race. He’s got his street hockey stuff setup, and he’s shooting goals from the same spot over and over again. I watch him for several moments. He’s already the tallest boy in our class. His dark hair is slightly longer on the sides, so there's a bit of curl around his ears. He’s so cute, and I’m not the only girl to think so. Plenty of other girls from school would kill to be standing right here, watching him like this.

I’m not entirely sure when my feelings for Carson changed. I’ve known him my whole life, obviously, because I’ve been best friends with Grace since we were in diapers. Growing up, he was always like an annoying brother — teasing us, pulling pranks, and telling us we couldn’t play with him because there were “no girls allowed,” or whatever. Most of my childhood was spent arguing with him or avoiding him. Then, one day, something shifted. I just looked at him and he was…different, somehow. He wasn’t a little kid anymore — the height, the more angular face, the new confidence that just radiated off of him. Suddenly, I couldn’t stop thinking about him. Couldn’t help but find excuses to be around him. I didn’t even mind his teasing anymore, growing to like it and the attention I felt he gave me when he was doing it.

I want him to see me like I see him. Not as a sibling or a buddy. I want him to see me as an actual girl. And today, I’m going to make that happen.

Remembering I don’t have much time before Grace comes back, I hurry down the steps of the deck and cut across the backyard. As I get close, I can’t help but stop to admire him again. He’s wearing a tanktop and basketball shorts. Sweat is dripping from his forehead and his cheeks are flushed. Carson is so focused on what he’s doing that he doesn’t notice me until I’m practically on top of him.

“Carson,” I say, sharply.

He looks up at me in surprise, his dark blue eyes wide and his mouth hanging open.

“Star?” he yelps. “What…what are you doing out here? Aren’t you hanging out with Grace?”

“She’s helping your mom,” I tell him. “And it’s Skyler, weirdo. Not Star.”

He smirks and shakes his head. “Nah, you know you’re too small to be the sky.”

My heart flips over in my chest. I roll my eyes at him but can’t help the small smiling tugging at the corners of my lips.

“So, what did you want?” he asks.

I stand right in front of him and tilt my head back so I can meet his confused gaze. “I want to talk to you.”

“Me? Why?”

This is it. This is the moment I’ve been waiting for. I’ve imagined it countless times over the last few months, but I still don’t feel totally prepared for this. I’ve made up my mind. This is happening. This is happening today.

“Carson,” I state in a loud, firm voice. “I like you.”

He blinks and stares at me in silence for several moments. He looks totally stunned and when he doesn’t reply, I start to get nervous.

Suddenly, he lets out a burst of laughter, and it’s my turn to be startled. “Oh, my gosh, Skyler,” he wheezes, nearly doubled over as he continues to laugh. “That’s freaking hilarious.”

My stomach twists and my cheeks flush as embarrassment sweeps through me. “I’m…I’m not joking,” I murmur. “I’m dead serious, Carson. I like you… a lot.”

His laughter cuts off abruptly and he slowly looks back up at me. I can tell he’s confused, which hurts. Why is it so ridiculous that I like him?

“Skyler…” he says, his voice low and hesitant. “I…I…”

Why is he hesitating? Crap! What is he going to say?

“Um…do you…do you like me too?” I ask in a nervous whisper when I can’t take his silence any longer.

He scratches at the back of his head and releases a nervous chuckle. “Well, it’s just… liking you would be like liking my sister. It’s…weird.”

I purse my lips and clench my jaw, literally holding in all the anxiety, fear, and disappointment that’s swirling through me. “Liking me is weird?” I whisper.

He shrugs his shoulders. “Yeah…I mean, it’s just that you’re Grace’s best friend and I’ve known you my whole life. We’re practically family.”

“Family?”

He nods. “Yeah. Besides, you’re such a tomboy and I like girls who are more….girly. You know…like Elizabeth Norris.”

His words are like a slap to my face. He wants a girly-girl.

I am not a girly-girl by any stretch of the imagination. Honestly, I don’t have any interest in being one. Since my mom passed when I was little, Mrs. Monroe has offered to teach me how to do my makeup and hair, but I’d much rather spend my time on my computer or playing my Nintendo than staring at myself in a mirror.

For him to bring up Elizabeth Norris, though… ugh. She’s the worst. The stereotypical mean girl type who’s so pretty that she’s super-popular. I cannot stand her, and for Carson to say she’s the type of girl he likes…

God, I just want the ground to open up and swallow me whole. This is so humiliating.

“We can still be friends, though,” he quickly insists. “I don’t want to lose you as a friend, Skyler. ”

I blink, pain welling up within me. He just wants to be friends…I’m not girly enough…I’m not Elizabeth Norris…he doesn’t like me the way I like him.

Feeling tears gather in my eyes, I mutter, “Okay…it’s whatever.”

Turning, I quickly make my way back to the house.

“Skyler!” Carson calls after me but I ignore him. I have to get away from him before I lose it. The last thing I want is to cry in front of him. That would be way too humiliating.

Once I’m back in the house, I run up the stairs and back to Grace’s room. She’s still not back from helping her mom, which is a relief. I don’t want her to see me like this either. I slip into Grace’s bathroom and shut the door behind me, locking it. Only then do I let my tears fall.

A sob breaks from my throat as I press my back to the door and slide down until I’m sitting on the floor. I pull my knees up and drop my head on them as I cry. I have to push my glasses out of the way so I can wipe my eyes.

I’ve never felt anything like this before. There’s a pain in my chest and my stomach is churning with anxiety. Carson doesn’t like me… he just wants to be friends.

I’m not girly enough. For some reason, that’s the thing that devastates me the most. It’s never bothered me before when people have told me I’m too much of a tomboy. That I shouldn’t be so blunt. That I should wear more dresses and not just wear my hair in a ponytail. I always shrugged them off and moved on, ignoring their words as I just continued to be me.

Knowing Carson thinks that way too is devastating. I can’t just ignore what he said and shrug off his words. They keep repeating over and over in my head.

I hate this. I hate this so much. Is this what heartbreak feels like? If it is, I never want to experience anything like this ever again. As my tears start to slow, I clench my jaw and curl my hands into fists.

I’m not going to ever let myself feel this way again. It was a mistake for me to have feelings for Carson. What was I thinking? I’m not the type of girl to let a boy have this much influence over her or to cry because he hurt my feelings. I’m tougher than that. Part of me hates Carson for making me feel even a little bit self-conscious about the type of girl I am.

He doesn’t like me because I’m not girly enough? Screw him. I don’t like him anymore. I’m over him and I’m never going to let another guy make me feel this bad ever again.

Suddenly, I hear someone come into Grace’s room. A moment later, there’s a knock on the door. “Skyler? Are you in there?”

I let out a short breath of relief. It’s just Grace.

“Yeah!” I reply, wiping my eyes as I scramble to my feet. “Be right out!”

Moving to the sink, I look at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. My eyes are a little red and I’m afraid she’ll be able to tell I’ve been crying, so I wait a few moments, willing my eyes to clear up.

Once my eyes are dry and I can pass off any lingering redness as allergies or something like that I plaster on a smile and open the bathroom door to rejoin Grace. She’s back on her bed, reading her magazine. She looks up at me with a small frown.

“Are you okay?” she asks.

“Yeah,” I nod, keeping my smile in place. “I’m good, sorry. I think I’ve got a little stomach ache, though. I should probably go home, just to be safe.”

She furrows her brow and sits up, studying me closely . “Are you sure that’s it? There’s nothing else going on?”

I swallow as I continue to fight my rising nerves. Can she tell? That’s just what I need…to be caught by my best friend after crying over her stupid brother. That’s more embarrassment than I think I can take.

“Nope,” I assure her. “Nothing else. I think I just had too much ice cream earlier. You know that gets me sometimes. I’ll just go home and take it easy the rest of the day.”

“I mean…if you’re sure…”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be back tomorrow,” I tell her, hurrying toward her bedroom door before she can try to stop me. I hate keeping the truth from her. Grace and I tell each other everything, but I can’t tell her this. I just can’t. That's just one more reason to throw my feelings for Carson to the side. He’s forced me to keep a secret from Grace.

I hate this…I might even hate Carson.

What I know for sure is that I’m never going to let anyone make me feel this way ever again.