He Shoots, She scores

Chapter Ten: Weston | 10 Things I Hate About You

She's good. She's really fucking good. To be frank, I didn't think Gracie had a mean bone in her body. But she pulled the rabbit stunt the other day, and then recorded over my hockey highlights with The Bachelorette, and today, she 'accidentally' washed my jersey with her own pink load. When I show up to practice, not only is my uniform a size too small, but it's also hot pink.

I get my fair share of snickers and pats on the back when I arrive at the rink, standing out like a matchstick. RJ and Eli skate up to me. "Hey, you have this in an XL?" Eli teases.

RJ skates around me in circles. "Not that I'm keeping track of this little prank war between you and Gracie, but she's winning. By a landslide."

And just when I thought that was the last of it, turns out Gracie swapped all my textbooks for novels when I wasn't looking. In the middle of my political science class, I tug out two scandalous looking covers. The ones with two people making out on the front. I don't shove it back inside quick enough before the people on the opposite ends of me are already laughing. As much as Gracie pisses me off, I have to give a round of applause for her streaks.

I'm on campus with a two-hour gap until my next lecture so I decide to stop for a caffeine boost. I get into the Starbucks line and freeze at the all-too familiar perky voice. "Hi! Welcome to Starbucks, how may I assist you today?" Sure enough, there's the last person I'd like to see right now. Gracie is in the signature black apron and black cap, smiling at every customer as if they're all her BFFs. I pray that I end up getting the other cashier, but nope. Fate has it out for me today.

"Hi, welcome to Starbucks, how are we doing tod-" Her voice cuts short when she sees me next at the counter. "Oh. It's you."

I place my palms on the counter and lean forward. "That pink jersey trick you pulled today?" Her lips pull upwards. "That was cute. But is that really all you got?"

Gracie just continues smiling. "What can I get for you today?"

"Americano. Grande." I start taking out my wallet when she mutters something under the breath. "What was that?"

"I just said your drink doesn't surprise me whatsoever. Anyways, your total comes to $5.20. How will you be paying today?"

I have my card in my hand but don't give her the money just yet. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. It means nothing. Cash, credit or debit?"

I hand over my credit card but when her fingers are grabbing on, I don't let go. We end up in a mini tug of war. "What are you, five?" she scoffs. "Let go!"

"Just tell me what you meant." As childish as it may be, I only grip the card tighter.

"I just meant that your drink is boring. An Americano? Really? If I got a blind order for that, I would've thought you were an 80-year-old man with a cane."

"What the hell do you expect me to get?"

"Literally anything else! Try a Frappuccino or something."

"What, and I'm the five-year-old?"

I finally let go and she lets out a huge huff. When I glance behind me I see the entire line as well as the other staff have been staring at us. I grimace and grab my coffee.

Hours later when my classes are finally done, I'm walking to my car when I spot Gracie sitting outside on the library curb. It's dark outside and most students have already gone home. The campus rush has died down to a crawl, and with a quick glance, I see we're the only two students in the vicinity.