How The Cookie Crumbles (11 page)

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Authors: Melanie Ting

BOOK: How The Cookie Crumbles
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“That’s easy for you to say, underwear seems to be dropping at the mention of your NHL career.” Andrew replied and then paused for a moment. “Still, doesn’t that ever bother you?

“Underwear dropping doesn’t ever bother me.” I came in late, hit the one-timer and broke the glass. “Boom!” I yelled. We had developed a special points system and glass-breaking was a bonus score.

“No, c’mon Jake. I mean, take Brittany Allison for example. In high school she wouldn’t even talk to you and now she’s ready to put out on the first date, just because you’re a big deal hockey player. Doesn’t that seem wrong?” Trust Andrew to be all insightful, even if I didn’t want to go there.

“Nope. It’s like I got a good job and now I’m successful, same as anyone else.”

“You’ve changed.” Andrew sounded sad.

I realized I was frowning. “Okay, I get what you mean and maybe it bothers me a little. But what can I do? It’s my life and most guys would kill for it.”

To me it was just another reason not to get tied down, and every chick knew what was going on when we went out. No big commitments and no emotional crap. I used to be kind of sensitive, but you couldn’t be all soft and still function in pro hockey. Shit happens and you have to harden up.

 

15. Friendzone

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see some baggy black gym shorts standing right beside my weight bench. I closed my eyes, finished my set of bench presses, put the bar back and then looked up.

“Oh hey, Jake.”

Of course. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was actually cloned, since he seemed to be everywhere.

“Hi Frankie, need a spotter?” He looked relaxed and half-asleep despite the fact it was after 3:00 pm.

“No, I’m good.” I sat up. “What’s up with you?”

“Well, Brad suggested that we should hook up.”

“He did?” I found that incredible since Brad was all business.

“Heh heh, I mean, in the gym. That we should work out together.”

“You don’t focus enough,” I told him. I did some shoulder rolls and his eyes dropped to my chest. For crying out loud, between Brad and Chloë, I needed to get this settled once and for all. “Actually, I don’t mind working out with you, on two conditions.”

“Shoot.”

“One, when we work out, we work out hard.” I was pretty sure that having a partner would push me to work out harder, and I liked to change things up occasionally to keep my workouts productive.

“Sure. I can do it, I just don’t do it all the time. I need a little recovery time after the season ends.”

“When did your season end?”

“I dunno, April?”

“It’s almost June now. I’m pretty sure that’s enough time to recover.”

“Whatever. What’s number two?”

I looked him straight in the eye. “Jake, I hear you’re a nice guy and I don’t know you that well but so far, you’re… okay.” He smiled at this. “But I think we should be friends. That’s how I see things going for us. And if that’s okay with you, we can hang out at the gym or socially or whenever.”

He looked completely puzzled. “So when you say friends, is that like friends with benefits?”

“Nope. Friends without benefits. I’d be a buddy, just like your guy friends.”

Jake started laughing, “There is no way you’re like a guy.”

I laughed along with him. I thought that this whole conversation was going pretty well. If he stopped hitting on me, we could get along fine.

Jake

“Just friends? What the fuck does it mean when a girl wants to be just friends?”

I was hanging out with Andrew and Tolly, we met up with some high school buds for a pickup soccer game and now we were back at Tolly’s place to watch the Cup finals and have pizza and beer.

Tolly started laughing, “Mr. Hot-Shit-Hockey got rejected! It means no, nyet, nein. Adios, bye-bye, sayonara.”

I interrupted his language lesson. “No, but after that she set up all these times for us to get together.” Frankie had brought out her little notebook and figured out exact times for us to meet at the gym. It was like she said no and then she said yes.

“I guess it means she just wants to be friends,” Andrew suggested.

“Thanks, Einstein. That’s something that doesn’t happen to me. It’s more like the opposite, chicks want to sleep with me first and then have a big relationship.”

“Which you never want,” Tolly laughed. “You just wanna hit it and quit it.”

“It’s not like that, I like talking to chicks, hanging out with them. I’m just not into having a steady girlfriend. I like to hang out with my buddies and I don’t want to have to feel guilty. Maybe someday, but this boy’s too young for all that committed crap.”

“Tolly has a girlfriend, and he comes out with us all the time.” Andrew pointed out.

“Depends on the girl,” Tolly said smugly, “Naomi’s the independent type, and I do what I want. You don’t want a clingy chick, that’d be death.”

“I presume it’s Frankie we’re talking about here,” Andrew guessed.

“Yeah. Shit, I saw her at the gym today and I was talking to her about us possibly working out together. Then she told me she’d be happy to hang out with me, but y’know, just as friends.”

“It’s the kiss of death, man.” Tolly started talking in this high voice, “Oh Jake, you’re like a brother to me, so I could never have sex with you!” He was laughing like a madman, and then recovered enough to lecture me some more. “Just friends, that’s always the girl’s idea and the guy hangs around hoping she’ll change her mind or maybe get shit-faced enough to accidentally sleep with him.”

Tolly kept laughing, but when I thought about it he was right. I had seen that happen more than a few times. Maybe that would work with Frankie. She had certainly looked pretty fucking hot at the gym today, in her little yoga pants and her stretched-out tank top.

Andrew was always positive. “Maybe you’d like having a girl for a friend. When’s the last time you had one?”

“I dunno, grade three?”

One morning I woke up and realized happily that I seemed to be fully over Matt. Moving to Kingston had been a brilliant idea, I didn’t have to constantly see all the places and people that I associated with my ex and I was able to move on quite easily. I found myself interested in dating again and actively checking out any attractive guys that crossed my path.

Naturally it wasn’t easy to find cute, single guys around here. I hadn’t heard from Liam again, and Jake was the only other guy to ask me out. When I looked around, I saw… nothing. Any possible guys I had met seemed strangely uninterested, so maybe they had girlfriends.

I’d just have to carry on, and see what dating possibilities popped up. With two jobs, I was busy enough, and I kept my focus on making money and having fun with Chloë. I worked out a couple of times with Jake and it went really well. He was surprisingly on-task, and I liked following his program for a change. Of course he was way stronger than me, but we could use different weights and do the same reps or use machines. I knew that he did his serious workouts with Brad, so our workouts were more like maintenance for him but they were heavy-duty for me and I was pretty sore afterwards. But good sore.

One day Jake walked into the café just after lunch and I greeted him and we chatted a little about hockey. The Stanley Cup finals were on and that was all over the newspapers and TV. Naturally Chloë and I had forgotten all about the finals and we were wondering why it was quieter than usual when we went to the bookstore last night. But I didn’t confess that part.

Suddenly, a phony Mexican accent floated out. “Holy guacamole, I theenk our boy has brought a beeeg burrito for meee!”

No Frankie, do not laugh, do not look down. Do not look down.

“A Diet Coke, right?”

“Yeah,” he said and then he moved away from the counter and looked over into the case, giving me the full body view.

I couldn’t help it, I looked down. Jake had these checked shorts on and they were tight, and you could see the outline of something. Definitely something big enough to see even from back in the kitchen. I tried not to react in any way.

“What else can I get you?” My voice was a little choked.

“I don’t know what I feel like having,” he said. I thought Jake was looking at the display case, but I realized he had been watching me.

“How about a cupcock?”

Oh crap, did I just say that? I closed my eyes briefly and crossed my fingers. Maybe he didn’t notice.

No such luck. “Um, I’m not really into that.” He started laughing at me.

“Oh sorry, it was just a slip of the tongue,” I was blushing big time.

When I said tongue, his grin got even bigger, “You know Frankie, you keep saying we should just be buddies, but the way you check me out, and the stuff you say… you’re kind of sending me mixed signals here.”

How could I explain this? The cougar baker made me do it?

“I didn’t mean to… say… anything,” I said feebly, as I put his Diet Coke on the counter.

He smiled at me, and moistened his lips before he spoke. “It’s okay if you want to check me out, I like to check you out too. Maybe you’d like to…” he twirled a finger and winked at me, “… turn right around and get me an apple cinnamon muffin.”

I glared at him and then without turning, walked backwards to the case, reached in and put the muffin in a bag and walked back over to the counter. I placed the muffin beside his drink and said coldly, “That’ll be $3.20, please.”

He laughed and handed me a five. “It’s okay, Frankie, I like the front view a lot too.”

“You’re sexist and impossible,” I told him.

“Really, Frankie? Because you check guys out. And someone who looks and dresses the way you do, shouldn’t be totally surprised that guys look at her.”

I handed him his change, but he just put it in the tip jar.

“Just buddies, eh? Y’know, I think I’ll reserve the right to hit on you when the time is right.”

 

16. Chuck’s Day Off

We were just finishing dinner, when the doorbell rang. Chloë had been feeling guilty, so she insisted on cooking that night. Therefore, we ate a crummy spaghetti dinner straight from the Classico jar. Wasn’t she the economics major who had explained division of labour to me last week, where everyone does what she’s best at? Therefore I should do all the cooking and she should plan Canada’s monetary policy. I tried to make sure all the tomato sauce was off my face, as I went to answer the door.

“Oh hi Andrew. What a surprise!”

I had only met Andrew briefly, when he came to pick up Chloë for a movie date, but he seemed really nice. I turned around, but suddenly Chloë was nowhere to be seen. Andrew was standing in the doorway, looking all hopeful and nervous. By any calculation, he had it bad for Chloë. Just behind him was another guy, and also naturally, Jake. Jake grinned at me and introduced his friend.

“Hey Frankie, this is Oliver Tollefson.”

“Hi, nice to meet you, Oliver.” He had medium brown hair and a stocky build, but when I said his name, he winced.

“Call me Tolly. Only my mom calls me Oliver.”

I invited them all in and we all sat down in the living room.

Finally Chloë reappeared. In three minutes, she had changed from her cut-off sweat pants and a holey Pokémon tank top to a cute yellow and white op-art top and white shorts. The lipgloss and blue eyeliner were fresh as well, so Andrew wasn’t the only one who had it bad. But by the way Andrew was smiling at her, I think he would have loved either outfit. I was wearing a red cotton halter-top and cut-off jean shorts with my hair in a Pebbles-style topknot, due to the heat, but it was too late for me to run and change.

“We were just passing by,” Andrew explained, apparently talking to both of us but looking at Chloë the whole time, “And we were wondering if you guys wanted to hang out. We could maybe play mini-golf.”

He was good, mini-golf was exactly the kind of thing that Chloë liked, as long as the course was all retro-tacky. She was no jock.

“That sounds fun,” Chloë said nodding, but I shook my head.

“What now? Sewing calls?” Jake asked sarcastically.

“No. It’s Thursday. I have plans on Thursday.”

“What, like a date?” Was it insulting that Jake looked completely confident that this was not the case?

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