Page 33 of Big Stick Energy
She gives me a sideways glance, like maybe I’m a crackpot. “I know that competition is your thing. But you’re onvacation.”
“My idea ofvacationdoesn’t include dancing in front of strangers.” At least not when I’m unprepared. That’s why I pulled overat a rest stop for a quick rehearsal after Darcy explained her idea to me.
We danced, briefly, in the grass, while I tried to focus on what she was telling me and not the scent of her perfume.
“I just don’t like to lose,” I add now.
She rolls her eyes. “We all lose sometimes, hotshot. I’m going to give that guy our song, okay? You grab those drinks, and meet me over there?” She points toward another corner of the room. “I think I see mini empanadas and little shish kebabs, and I need to investigate.”
“Godspeed,” I say, and she gives me a salute before striding off in those heels that make my mouth water.
The bar line advances. I get our drinks and drop a twenty into the tip jar.
“Omigod thanks,” says a young woman mixing drinks behind the bar. Then she lifts her gaze to mine, and her eyes widen. “Wait, you’re that hockey player!”
As soon as she says it, several heads swivel in my direction. “Um, yup. Not playing tonight, though. Unfortunately.”
Her eyes widen. “Oh yeah. Wow. What is tonight, game two of the finals?”
“Game three,” I say, lifting our cocktails off the bar. “But who’s counting?”
The answer is me. I’m counting. We could have beaten Colorado, and I’m still salty about it.
Darcy has disappeared, so I carry our drinks over to a high table to wait. It’s covered with a tablecloth, and adorned with a bouquet of ink pens and a short stack of “ballots” for voting on the dance-off winner.
I set down our drinks and pull out my phone to check mytexts. There’s one from my father.Give Maribel our best tonight. Tell her your mom isn’t feeling well.
Sure, Dad. Lying for you guys is such a joy.I take a deep breath and sigh it out, the way the team psychologist taught me to do when I told him I was having panic attacks again. “Try to have a nice, relaxing summer, okay?” he’d said.
Yeah, pal.Family drama is so conducive to relaxation. I take a sip of my Manhattan.
“Omigod, Tessa!” a voice rings out from nearby. “Missy says your sister is here withEric Tremaine? Is it true?”
Startled at hearing my name, I glance around. But the sound seems to be coming from the other side of a room divider that’s screening the kitchen from view of the guests.
“I don’t even get it,” Tessa’s voice hisses back. “They came here together. But she’s not reallywithhim, right?”
“She can’t be. It just wouldn’t make any sense.”
What the actual fuck?
“None at all,” Darcy’s sister snaps. “Can you imagine? He’s a ten, and she’s a five on agoodday.”
My head just about blows off.
“Nah, a four. And maybe it’s, like, a stunt?” the first woman says. “She’s doing this to get back at you.”
“Right?” Tessa yelps. “It’s probably the only reason she came tonight. Maybe she heard about my problems with Josh.”
“Thatbitch. And God, her shoes,” the first woman says, her voice fading, as if they’re walking away. “So ugly. To go with her ugly face.”
Tessa snorts with laughter.
And I see red.
Chapter 13
Whole Thing Is a Blur
