Be the Girl(25)

“Good.” She grins. “How’s Coco?”

“Coco’s good. Coco likes to chase cats.”

Cassie laughs. “Yeah. That’s because she’s a dog.” To me, she says, “I named her. She was a shelter dog and Frank adopted her.”

“That’s right. Cassie kept telling me about this small black poodle that came in. She was convinced that I needed a dog. Turns out she was right.” Frank chuckles, reaching for a paper cup. “The usual?”

“One small hot chocolate, please.” Cassie carefully places the five-dollar bill on the counter, leaving her hand on it as if it might fly away in a breeze.

“You want one, too?” His bushy eyebrows raise as he regards me and then, when he sees me waffling, adds, “It gets cold in there.”

“Sure, okay. Thanks.” I pluck a box of Junior Mints from the display and set it on the counter, then dig my money out of my pocket.

Cassie’s eyes light up. “Do you like mint?”

“I do. I love mint.”

“Me too.” She pauses, smiling at them. I see the internal battle in her eyes before she finally blurts out, “I wish I could have some.”

I can’t help but laugh. That’s the thing with Cassie—her intentions are obvious, but so innocent and simple. “Do you want to share the box with me?”

She nods in emphasis and her grin widens. “But don’t tell my mom.”

We gather our purchases, say goodbye to Frank, and make our way into the rink. The two teams are already warming up on their respective sides of the ice to the blaring music, skating in circles, firing shots on the goalie. I try to pick out Emmett but they all look the same.

A shiver runs through me from the sudden drop in temperature, and I’m thankful for the sweater Heather warned me to bring as well as the piping-hot beverage in my grasp. “Where should we sit?” I spot Heather’s blonde head halfway down the blue bleacher-style seats, surrounded by a group of other moms, laughing and talking. Mark is standing at the top, talking to a man who fiddles with a video camera.

“We can sit with Holly.”

“She’s here?” Of course she’s here. To cheer on her boyfriend.

Cassie’s blue eyes search the heads in the stands before she announces with dismay, “I don’t see her.”

“Do you know if she’s coming?”

“She’s always here. Like me.” Cassie shrugs it off. “That’s okay. Sometimes she comes late. Can you help me with this?” She doesn’t wait for my answer, thrusting her hot chocolate toward me so she can grip the rail with both hands and ease down the steep set of concrete stairs with great care.

“This is good,” she declares, settling into a chair halfway down and over a section from the cluster of parents. She then takes her drink back and peels the lid open. “Mom! We’re going to sit over here!” she hollers, earning several waves and smiles from surrounding parents. “This is AJ! She’s our new neighbor!” She points at me, spilling her hot chocolate on her pants in the process. “Oops.” She laughs and haphazardly wipes it away with a hand before dismissing it completely.

I’m fastening my sweater when a buzzer sounds and the teams race to kneel in front of a man who must be their coach.

“That’s Emmett.” She points at the gaggle of guys in helmets at the Home bench. “Number forty-four. He plays left wing?” she says as if she’s not sure, her face scrunching up. “Emmett!” She waves at their backs.

“I think he’s listening to his coach.”

“Oh, yeah, he’s not watching.” When they finally break, five guys, including Emmett, skate into position. Cassie waves furiously again, calling his name.

He throws a hand in the air and Cassie points at me. “Look! It’s AJ!” Another splash of hot chocolate hits her clothes, this time her pink vest. “Oops.” She wipes once at it before ignoring it to take a sip through her straw. I’ve never met anyone who drinks hot chocolate through a straw.

But I’ve also never met anyone like Cassie before.

A whistle blows and the puck starts flying. “Do you understand the rules?” I ask.

“Yeah.” Cassie nods vigorously, then laughs. “Actually, no. Kind of. Where is Holly?” She looks over her shoulder at the door.

Spilling hot chocolate on herself … again.

“I don’t see her,” I confirm, silently admitting that I’m okay with that. I turn my attention to the game, to watch Emmett get the puck and race for his opponent’s end, weaving deftly around the player trying to block him, and firing off a shot. It sails in, earning a round of cheers and claps from the stands.

“He’s good,” Cassie says, her head bobbing up and down as if to emphasize it.

“He is.” I feel an odd and unexpected stir of pride in my stomach. I can see why a college team would want him.

“Yeah.” Cassie grins. “Emmett’s the best.”





“Holly!” Cassie pauses in her careful climb up the stairs to wave. “We were looking for you. Where were you?”

Holly smiles from the top of the stairs. She’s wearing a stylish quilted black vest and cute boots that I instantly want. “Hey, Cassie! I didn’t think you were here! Where were you sitting?”