Chapter Three

I woke up the next morning with Bridget practically on top of me in my bed. She was staring directly at me with a creepy grin plastered to her face. This could only mean two things. One, she was getting ready to bust me for something, or two, she had good news. Thankfully, it was the latter.

“What the hell do you want?” I asked, watching her intently.

“Geno likes you so much! I was worried that you guys wouldn’t get along because, you know, you’re a bitch and all and he’s ridiculously sweet,” my sister said. I rolled my eyes, ignoring her remark. “But he completely raved about you at the club.”

“Oh, you tore yourself away from Jordan long enough to let Geno get a word in edgewise?” I asked, smirking at her. Her face turned bright red and she got out of my bed.

“Mom has breakfast downstairs,” she said, exiting the room. I laid back down and felt oddly buzz-y. Was it all because Geno said he liked me? Pssh, I couldn’t really care that much about what he thought of me. Apparently, though, I did. I hopped out of bed, with a little pep in my step, and ran downstairs. Bridget, Brett, my mom, and my dad were sitting at the table.

“What, do you guys like live here now?” I asked, indicating my siblings.

“They just want to see you, honey,” my mom replied, pouring herself more coffee.

“Yeah, right, I’m really not that interesting,” I muttered, taking my old seat at the table.

“Well, I like having the whole family together again,” my dad said, putting down the paper and beaming at us. “Bridget has a surprise for you, Maddison.”

“Dad! I wanted to wait!” Bridget whined.

“What is it?” I asked while picking the fat off my bacon.

“Well, you know Kris? From the Penguins?” she questioned.

“No, not really,” I said, giving up with the bacon and shoving it onto Brett’s plate.

“Well he’s interested, Maddison! Isn’t that great?!” she practically screamed at me.

“Interested in what?” I asked, now picking the crust off of the toast.

“You! He’s interested in you,” she replied, staring at me, waiting for a reaction. I think she wanted me to say something like ‘Oh my God! I can’t believe this! Let’s go to David’s Bridal this afternoon and start picking out dresses! You’ll have the best one of course because you helped set us up. Oh what the hell, you’ll just be the maid of honor!’. However, she was sadly mistaken.

“Yeah so is Max. What’s your point?” I replied. If her jaw wasn’t attached to her face, it would have been on the floor.

“Are you freaking kidding me?!” she, again, practically screamed.

“No, I am not ‘freaking kidding you’,” I said, giving up on the toast as well and opting for a glass of orange juice.

“Maddison, he’s hot as hell!” she exclaimed. My mom shot her a warning look. “Sorry, Mom.”

“Yeah…and? He’s not my type.” I said, pushing more of my food onto Brett’s plate, who took it wordlessly.

“Since when is ‘hot’ not your type?” she asked.

“’Player’ has never been my type,” I responded.

“Oh yeah? Well what about Jerry Thompson in twelfth grade?” she pressed.

“Oh sorry, I misplaced my crystal ball that month. I had no idea he was going to cheat on me,” I said bitterly, thinking back to how in love I thought I was.

“Well, I really think you should go for it. And if not, there’s always Kris. I kinda already promised him a date,” she said quietly, averting my death glare.

“What the hell Bridget? You’re not my pimp for Christ’s sake!” I shouted at her.

“Maddison,” my mom warned.

“I promise you, you’ll love him!” Bridget spoke quickly.

“Is this the great surprise of which you spoke?” I asked my dad who was desperately trying to hide behind the newspaper.

“No there’s more!” Bridget began.

“What? Did you arrange a marriage between me and Sidney?” I asked, more than annoyed.

“We’re going to the game tonight!” she continued, ignoring my snide remark.

“I hate hockey,” I stated simply.

“Well, you’re going. I already promised Kris that you’d be there,” she said with finality. I turned to my father who gave me a helpless look, then to my mother who gave me a ‘sorry, you’re doing this for your sister’ look.

“What does he care if I show up or not?” I questioned, now piling my eggs onto Brett’s plate.

“He wants you to see him play,” she shrugged.

“Whatever,” I said, getting up from the table. “Great breakfast, Mom.” She didn’t even notice that I didn’t eat a drop. “Where’s the nearest gym?”

“I’ll drive you!” Brett offered, also getting up. He followed me upstairs to my room and took a seat on my squishy chair.

“Thanks for covering for me down there, Bray,” I said, reverting to my old childhood nickname for him. When I was younger I couldn’t (or wouldn’t) pronounce ‘Brett’, so I used ‘Bray’ and it just stuck. I was the only one who was allowed to call him that too.

“Man cannot survive on orange juice alone,” he replied, giving me a serious look.

“It’s not just orange juice! It’s salads and protein shakes and certain other foods,” I said, rifling through my unpacked boxes for some workout clothes.

“It’s not healthy, Maddie,” he said, also reverting back to my childhood nickname. If anyone else tried to call me that, they would be in severe, severe, trouble.

“It’s fine. Really it is. I’ll be alright,” I said, turning to him and resting a hand on his knee. He smiled down at me. “Are you going to this hockey thing tonight?”

“The game? No. I have a date tonight,” he said happily.

“Oh really? That’s nice. What’s her name?” I asked, returning to my search.

“Sadie Winters,” he answered.

“Oh my God! That sounds like a stripper name!” I replied, horrified.

“Exactly,” he said.

“Oh my God, Brett! You’re disgusting!” I shouted, throwing a pillow at him. He started laughing and threw one back at me.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding! Her name is Melanie Stuart. That good enough for you?” he asked, still laughing.

“Ahh that’s much better. Well, lucky you. You’ll be on a hot date, while I’m stuck in a frozen torture chamber,” I mumbled, sitting down on the floor.

“Relax, will ya? I promise it won’t be that bad. Just give it a chance. For me, okay?” he asked.

“Ugh, fine!” I said. “Now get the hell out so I can change!”