Cinderella in Skates (13 page)

Cool. They'll be there.
 

I raise my eyebrows as Shane's response lands in my inbox. I hadn't been counting on that, but I 'm smiling as I read it. If Shane's parents really are going, then so am I and I'm kind of excited about it.

So what's the plan?
 

Leaving Fri after hockey prax. I'll pick u up around 5. We'll be at the cabin by 9.

I don't even care that this weekend has all sorts of potential for awkward since I don't know any of Shane's hockey friends or the girlfriends he mentioned would be there. All I can think about now is spending more time with him. I haven't seen him since that awkward practice where Coach Dobrov made a random appearance the other day but I'm not letting it bother me.
 

Or I'm trying, anyway.

The hair kiss, I've decided, doesn't mean he's not into me anymore. He wants me to go skiing with him for Pete's sake!

But still. I kind of wish I had some idea what that was all about. I replayed that conversation in my head hundreds of times since it happened, and I'm still totally clueless.
 

Everything had been going perfectly and then boom!
 

I think about it again, from the first kiss to joking about my shape to me grumbling about the drills he was going to make me do that day. And as I think about that, I key in on what I said for the first time. I'd been thinking so much about his words, his actions and not paying nearly enough attention to mine.

What was it that I'd said right before the shift in his behavior? That without his help, I wouldn't be going back to Arizona as soon as I was because of him?

Could that be it?
 

It seems too simple, but maybe it's the only thing that makes any sense.
 

And if that's really it, well, what's that all about anyway? Why? He knew from the start that I was only doing this whole hockey thing so I could go back to Arizona right away.

But I guess I can't lie.

Part of me -- and maybe it isn't a small part -- kind of hopes that's exactly what was bugging Shane that night. Because that means he cares just as much as I do.
 

CHAPTER ELEVEN

My bag rests at my feet as I sit on the curb outside our house waiting for Shane to get home so we can leave for our weekend trip to northern Wisconsin. He's coming from his apartment downtown and we're going to ride with his parents and meet the rest of his friends up at the cabin.

I glance down at the clock on my phone and let out a sigh. He's almost half an hour later than he said he'd be, and after the day I had, I could really use the boost I always seem to find when he's around. But him not being here -- and not even sending a text to let me know how late he's running -- isn't doing a whole lot to help.

I'm glaring down the street, waiting for his familiar blue Toyota to turn the corner, when my dad opens the front door to our house and walks out to join me at the curb.

"Still nothing?" he asks.

I sigh. "No, Dad. I'm still here, aren't I?"
 

"Why don't you walk down the street and ask Joe what's going on?"

I stare at him. "Are you crazy?"

"Do you have a better idea?"
 

"I'm not going to ask Shane's dad why his son is standing me up."

Dad opens his mouth to respond when my phone buzzes in my lap and Shane's name lights up the caller ID.

"Hold on," I say to my father. "Hello?"
 

"Natalie! I'm really sorry. Practice ran long," Shane says breathlessly. "I'm leaving the rink right now."
 

"How much longer?" I ask.
 

Even though this delay apparently isn't his fault -- and now it makes sense why he hadn't been able to let me know what the hold up was -- I'm still ticked off about it.

"I'll be there in fifteen," he promises. "Ten if I speed."
 

"Speed."
 

He laughs then goes silent when I don't join him. "Okay. I'll see you in a little bit."
 

"Okay. Bye."
 

I disconnect the call and look over at Dad, who's staring back at me with a frown.

"Everything alright, Natbat?"
 

"It's fine. He'll be here soon. Practice ran late."
 

Dad raises his eyebrows but says nothing else about it. "Okay. Have a great time this weekend and let us know when you get up there safe. Joe said cell reception can be spotty but give it a shot, okay? For your old man."
 

I nod. "Sure, Dad. See you Sunday night."
 

He turns and walks into the house, leaving me to sit on the curb and wait for Shane alone.
 

***

It's closer to twenty minutes by the time Shane's car finally turns onto our street and cruises to a rest in front of my house. He almost drives straight past me to his own place but stops short when I stand up and flag him down.

That's only mildly embarrassing.

"Hey!" he says as I lift the lid of the trunk to toss my bag in. "I'm really sorry."
 

I shut the door and get into the front seat before I respond. "Don't worry about it."
 

He glances over at me before shifting the car out of park and driving the few feet down to his own house.

"You okay, Natalie?"
 

I smirk. It's the second time someone's asked me that in the last half hour.

"I'm fine."
 

"I really am sorry I didn't tell you I was running late," he says. "Coach wasn't in a good mood. I even asked him if I could run out really quick to let my parents know and he wouldn't let me."
 

I sigh. I'm not even sure why I'm so cranky about this -- maybe it's just a combination of things and it's easiest to take it out on Shane because he's here...and because I know he isn't going anywhere.

"It's not a big deal," I say, and try to convince myself that I mean it. And even if I don't, I hope I can at least start acting like I do.

Shane parks in his driveway and shuts off the car's engine.

"Hope you don't mind riding up in the backseat," he says. "My dad wants to drive."
 

Before I can say anything, Shane's parents walk out onto their front porch, bags in hand. They say hello, add their luggage to ours and climb into the car.
 

Shane looks at me over the roof and winks before we get into the backseat together.

"All aboard!" Mr. Stanford says once the car doors closed. "Next stop: Magic Kingdom."
 

Mrs. Stanford chuckles quietly next to her husband but Shane just groans. His dad shoots him a look in the rearview mirror.

"Just a little family tradition," he says, glancing over his shoulder at me as he backs out of the driveway.
 

"My dad does the same kind of thing."
 

Mr. Stanford smiles and nods. "That doesn't surprise me."
 

I'm not sure what to say to that so I don't say anything at all. It's then that I realize I'm about to be stuck in a car for the next four hours or so with Shane and his family. I'm not really sure what I'm supposed to do next -- if they aren't going to talk, I'm definitely not going to be the one who pipes up and ruins the silence.

I reach into my bag and pull out my phone and a set of earbuds, and I can feel Shane's eyes on me the whole time. I glance over at him and he smiles before digging his own phone out of the back pocket of his jeans.
 

I'm staring out the window, wondering what the heck I'm supposed to do for the next four hours when my phone vibrates in my lap.

Sorry it's weird in here.
 

I look over at him and he's smiling back at me. Shane shrugs apologetically, lightly biting down on the left corner of his lip. The effect is adorable, and I can't keep a grin from spreading across my face as I type out a response to his text, my earlier irritation with him fading.

You're taking me SKIING. I can suffer thru the car ride.

It's kind of weird texting someone who's sitting right next to me. I can't help but glance over at him to gauge his response to my incoming message. He looks at me out of the corner of his eye before returning his attention to the screen.
 

Bet you're a natural ;) You are at hockey.
 

Only bc I have a great teacher!

You're right. I guess I do get to take some credit.

Nah, Coach D is the best :)
 

A small laugh escapes his lips when he reads my text message and his mom glances back over her shoulder.

"Everything okay back there?" she asks.

"Oh, it will be," he replies. "Just have to sort someone out." It's my turn to try and hide my grin. Mrs. Stanford raises her eyebrows and turns her attention back to the road in front of her.

Looks like I'll be taking early retirement then

Leaving your client in a pinch? Not very professional Mr. Stanford...

Doesn't sound like she needs me anymore...
 

I fight to control my reaction as I read this text. I don't want to look over to see if he's watching me, and I definitely don't want him to realize I'm wondering if his message applies to more than just my training on the ice.
 

You'll have to ask her to be sure but I think she'd rather be safe than sorry
 

There. The perfect response. If I'm reading way too much into his comment and he's only talking about hockey (likely), then it works beautifully. But if he had a little subtle meaning to his text, well, I think my answer is relaxed enough not to be too enthusiastic but not bland enough that he might think I'm disinterested.

Whew.
 

Texting a guy you're pretty sure you adore is not easy work.
 

Guess my retirement can wait a few more days

Probably for the best.

You should nap. My friends def don't plan on sleeping when we all get up there

I try not to let disappointment cloud my face. I'm liking our secret back-and-forth texting while his parents sit right up front, just a ruler's length away from us.
 

Seriously. I'm going to.

I nod at the follow-up text as my phone vibrates in my lap before looking over at him. He grins at me, closes his eyes, folds his hands underneath his chin and mimics excessive snoring.

I clap my hand over my mouth to keep from laughing when he opens his eyes and winks at me. My heart flutters erratically at that simple gesture as I tuck my phone back into my bag and shut my eyes, ready to take his advice.
 

We have all weekend to talk and laugh and be silly together, so what's a few hours of rest before the real fun gets started?

Besides, I'm pretty sure this weekend is going to be amazing.
 

***
 

The shift in road from gravel to hard, crunchy snow stirs me out of my sleep a couple of hours later. I blink a few times to clear the slumber from my eyes and blearily glance out the car window.

And it's like we've suddenly come to another country all together.

There had been a light layer of snow on the ground in Madison when we left this afternoon, but it's nothing like what surrounds me now, and even though it's still a little hard for me to admit, it's absolutely gorgeous here.
 

It's dark out -- almost nine o'clock -- but the two-story "cabin" with a stone and wooden front is lit up and casts a calming, warming glow on the snow outside. The contrast of the lights with the night sky and white snow creates an effect that makes me feel like I'm in Aspen or Vail instead of northern Wisconsin.
 

Smoke puffs out of the tall, stone chimney and the two-story, floor-to-ceiling glass windows reveal a cozy-looking wooden interior with a tall, spiraling staircase in the middle of the living room.

I turn to Shane only to find that he's looking at me with an amused smile on his face.
 

"What do you think?" he asks as the car crawls up the driveway closer to the house.

"You call that a cabin?"

He laughs. "It's been in our family forever."
 

Mr. Stanford puts the car in park. "Everybody out! Magic Kingdom."
 

We all hop out and by the time I break my spell and stop staring at the cabin in front of me, Shane's already got my bag slung over his shoulder.

"Come on, I'll show you the place."
 

"You know, you still didn't answer my question."

"And what question is that?"

"This is more like a palace than a cabin."
 

"We may have made some upgrades to the place after my dad inherited it from my grandparents," he says with a sheepish grin.

"It's beautiful."
 

"Even if it's in Wisconsin?"
 

I make a face at him. "Even if it's in Wisconsin."
 

"Sometimes you surprise me, Nat," he says without any hint of teasing or insincerity in his voice.
 

I look up at him but he isn't meeting my gaze. He's definitely surprised
me
with that comment. I don't say anything as he leads me up the stone staircase and onto the covered front porch where thick icicles hang off the roof. He pushes open the front door and I suck in my breath as I step inside for the first time.

It's every bit the fairy tale cabin/palace on the inside as it looks like it'd be on the outside.
 

The chimney I'd seen connects to a gorgeous stone fireplace that takes up half of one of the wood-paneled walls. A long, dark brown wraparound leather couch sits in front of the fire, a chandelier made out of deer antlers hanging above it.
 

Black pillars with thick candles that might be as tall as I am decorate the cold-looking hearth, making it look all the more inviting. A giant family portrait rests on the mantle. The cabin is nestled on a small hillside, and the floor-to-ceiling windows show snow-covered ground in every direction with what looks like a small town centered around a lake about a mile or so away.