"What the hell took you guys so long?" Lawson asked as soon as Angela pulled open the passenger side door.
He couldn't have been waiting for us for more than two minutes, but I guess it felt a lot longer for him because he was by himself. Or maybe it just felt short to me because I had been so immersed in the action that was Taylor threatening Al.
"If you wanted to be kept in the loop, you should've come out." Angela said as she slid into the only unoccupied front seat. She paused when her eyes fell on Taylor and I, as if she just remembered that we were there.
"Sorry, is it okay if I sit in the front? I'm so used to sitting here that I just did it automatically, but I don't mind switching."
I shook my head and out of the corner of my eye, saw Taylor shake his as well.
It only took about ten minutes to get to the mini-putt course; if the ride was any longer than that, I would have taken Angela up on her offer. I tended to get car sick, especially when sitting in the back, but because of the short distance, my chances of throwing up on Taylor were slim.
When I slid into the back of Lawson's sedan, Taylor was in the midst of carefully getting his body inside.
"I didn't come out because Taylor said to keep the car running," Lawson muttered.
"That's bad for the environment," I admonished.
Anything that was unnecessarily and excessively wasteful drove me nuts. Idling cars. Lights on when no one was in the room. Taps left running when brushing teeth. All drove me up the wall.
"Just stop talking, Lawson," Taylor said as he reached for his seatbelt.
I didn't want to laugh, but I couldn't help it. The small car was absolutely unforgiving to Taylor's large frame. At least in the front seat he'd have the option of pushing the seat back, but back here with me, poor guy had no other option but to let his knees get friendly with his pecs.
"What is so funny, pipsqueak?" Taylor asked, looking at me from the side.
"I'm laughing because you can barely fit. And pipsqueak? Where did that come from?" I tried hard to contain any further laughter, but it was a lost battle.
"Well, Camille, some of us are taller than five feet."
"Hey!" I said, feigning offense. "I am!"
Seriously, I was.
"Just barely?" he whispered.
"Just barely," I confirmed.
I was 5 feet and 0.8 inches. You just can't make that height up.
Taylor laughed and the loud, joyous sound made Angela turn around and face us. Before Taylor's outburst, we had been trying to keep our talking and giggles to a whisper.
"What's so funny?" she asked.
"Nothing," Taylor said immediately. "Camille's just cracking me up."
There weren't many people in my life who found me funny. I, of course, thought I was hilarious. And I'm being completely serious by saying that. My jokes are legitimately knee-slappers. It's not my fault that others can't see that.
So the fact that Taylor finds me funny, even when I'm not trying to be, makes me feel like there's a baby bird in my chest that's currently soaring around my body. I fully realize that what he said could potentially be construed as offensive, but the way he looked at me and smiled at me when he said it suggests otherwise.
"Camille?" Angela asked. "My Camille? Funny?"
"Yes," I said. "Face the front again before you get motion sickness."
"Bossy," Ang mumbled.
Of course, though, she turned right around.
"Hey Taylor," I whispered, a few moments later.
"Yeah, Camille."
"Knock-knock."
The smile that formed on Taylor's face was made of pure gold. All white teeth and crinkly eyes. Just wait until you hear the punchline, I thought.
"Who's there?"
"Daisy."
"Daisy who?"
"Daisy me rolling!"
Somewhere in the back of my mind I registered that Angela moaned and said something along the lines of Oh god, not this one again, but I didn't care.
Not one friggin bit.
How could I with the guffaws coming from Taylor's mouth? His body was shaking and his face was turning red.
Were those...were those tears in his eyes?
"Where the hell did you get that one?" he asked once he had calmed down an iota.
"I made it up," I told him honestly.
"Of course, you did."
"What, you don't believe me?"
"No, no. I really do."
My back straightened as I leaned against the back rest, feeling smug.
When we arrived at WinniPutt, I felt so giddy, like I was walking on a cloud. My golfing skills were abysmal even when my hand-eye coordination was at its best. My Jell-O limbs could mean nothing good for my score.
"Have any of you guys been here before?" Taylor asked as Lawson checked in at the front desk to get our clubs and golf balls. He was just going to put it on his card and then we'd all E-transfer him later.
I nodded. "My brother and I have come a few times with my nephews. They're a little small, but they have fun."
"How old are they, again?" Angela asked. "I swear it still feels like they were just born."
"Max is four and Jack is three." Even I couldn't believe they were that old already.
"That's pretty cool that you come with them," Taylor complimented.
"I have fun, too," I shrugged.
The part about how having children as my opponents is the only way that I can win at sports was left out.
Purposefully.
"Okay," Lawson said, rejoining the group. "They suggested we break up into groups of two and have the more skilled group go first. It'll keep the game moving faster."
He held out his hands, which were holding four different coloured golf balls. I grabbed the yellow one.
"Okay, Camille. You heard him. High skill team goes first, so that's me and you," Angela said.
I could sense Taylor shift his body beside me and could've sworn I heard him chuckle. How rude. We totally were the high skill team, if this was anything school-related, that is.
"Yeah, I don't think guys vs girls is going to fly here. That's way too unfair, it should be a bit more even than that," Lawson said. Then he turned to me with a weary expression. "I've bowled with Ang before, she's actually not so bad. I'm afraid that you're the weakest one here."
My mouth dropped. I wished with all my heart that I could say that I wasn't offended. What he was saying was probably true, but hey, truth hurts.
"Fine. By that logic, she should be paired with me. Because I'm probably the best one here," Taylor said.
My hero. Someone find this man a cape.
"Works for me!" Angela chirped. "You guys go first."
Taylor smiled and stuck his arm out. "After you."
"Actually, after you. You go first, so I can try to follow your form."
"Fair enough," he laughed.
Obviously, this place was supposed to be fun for all ages, and the difficulty of the course wasn't on PGA level, but still, did Taylor really have to sink his ball on the first shot?
Apparently, yeah.
"Okay, so either your general athletic ability is transferring over or you play golf?" I asked.
Taylor leaned against his putter with a lazy smile on his face. "I have to spend my summers doing something," he said.
Great. At least he had the decency to sound a bit sheepish.
"Yeah, well, I spend my summers doing something, too. Reading. So, don't expect much."
Knowing that a professional athlete was watching me made my palms sweat around the club, especially because that athlete is Taylor. My first shot ricocheted off the barrier and bounced off the green. Oh boy. Smiling but not saying anything, Taylor grabbed the ball and placed it back on the tee.
"A little less power this time. You're not trying to send it to the moon." He was standing right behind me as he said it, his warm breath making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
"It's because I'm so muscular," I deadpanned.
His soft laughter faded to the background as I tried again.
I ended up sinking the ball on the third try.
Hole-in-three.
Not awful, but pretty sad considering that this was the easiest hole.
"Okay, losers, get at it," Taylor called out to Angela and Lawson.
I followed Taylor to the next hole.
"Thanks for that, back there," I said, volume somewhere between normal and a whisper. "With Lawson, I mean."
Taylor slowed down and gave me a soft look. He placed his blue ball on the tee then straightened up, standing more than a foot taller than me. "I'll always want you on my team, Camille. I think he wanted to be paired with Angela, but saying that was still a dick move, if you ask me."
What were the last two sentences? Because all I heard was...
I'll always want you on my team, Camille.
I'll always want you on my team, Camille.
I'll always want you on my team, Camille.
Take that Grade 4 dodgeball gym class, when I'd always get picked last!
"Thank you," I smiled shyly.
I watched Taylor earn his second hole-in-one.
"Are we supposed to be keeping score?" I asked.
"Doesn't matter," he said as he bent to retrieve his ball from the hole. "We're gonna win."
You better believe it.
And don't think that I didn't notice that Taylor put me and him against Ang and Lawson, and not me against himself.
What a teammate. I hoped all those Storm guys knew how lucky they were.
Hell, did I know how lucky I was?
"Careful, it slopes down a bit. So not too hard, the momentum will carry it down," Taylor advised as I took a deep breath before my first shot.
Okay, I can do this.
Having little power in my arms actually came in handy. I got it in on the second try.
Taylor high-fived me. When my hand hit his larger one, he held on to it and I almost collapsed. He leaned down so that his head was closer to my ear.
"You know what they say about karma...Lawson is still stuck on the first hole."
Was it bad that I smiled? Too bad. Weak link my heiney.
Taylor and I continued to move through the course like we owned the place. At least he did. My skill level was more like part-time employee.
By the time I had gathered my ball from the eighteenth hole, Angela and Lawson were still only at the eighth. I was watching them from where I stood, and it looked like they'd be there a while.
Oh boy.
"Looks like we have some time to kill," I said to Taylor. "There's a small café just over there. It's not much, but at least we can sit for a bit."
"Yeah, sounds good." He nodded, his eyes travelling to where my right arm was gesturing towards.
The place was practically empty, except for a young couple with a toddler sitting next to a window. It was late afternoon on a Friday; idly I wondered why it was so empty. I always remembered it being busier.
"Would you like anything?" Taylor asked, interrupting my thoughts.
My eyes scanned over the display window. The answer was yes: I was always down for a sweet, but I probably shouldn't have anything.
"Want a Saturn donut?" he said.
I tried to hold in my laugh, in case one of the employees heard and got offended. The theme of the place was the solar system, but come on, naming a donut after the planet that has a ring is a little cheesy.
"You know what, I do."
Stupid-ass name aside, it looked good. It was powdered and was advertised as having strawberry filling.
I got my money out and slapped it on the cashier's desk as Taylor ordered it. Beat him to it, this time.
He narrowed his eyes at me but didn't object. Smart.
I brought the paper bag carrying the ring of heaven to a table that was in the most secluded location. The steel chair leg scraped against the linoleum as Taylor pushed it out.
"Sorry," he grimaced.
I took out my hand sanitizer from my purse and gave a generous squirt. I held the bottle out to him and he took it.
"Thanks."
"Want a bit?" I asked as I pulled my donut out. It really did look good.
"Nah, I shouldn't, but you enjoy it."
Oh, I will.
"How was the road trip?" I dabbed the corner of my mouth with a napkin, hoping that I didn't have any powder residue from my first bite.
"Not too bad," Taylor said, adjusting his baseball cap. "Going on the first road trip with the team is a really important thing. Because as much as guys try to include you at home, most of them have wives or girlfriends or families to get to. On the road, we're all in the same boat, so we get to go out to dinner together."
"And how are you liking your teammates?"
He shrugged. "They're all pretty nice. There's always a few guys who are more on the quiet side. I'm probably one of them. It can be awkward because there's a few Russians who don't speak English. And it's not like you purposely avoid talking to them, but it's hard to have a conversation when you have no idea what they're saying."
"Yeah, I'm not much help there. The only things I know how to say in Russian are 'I love you' and 'thank you.'"
He gave me a look; eyebrow raised, eye squinted, and one corner of his mouth pulled upwards.
"Don't ask."
Taylor's head snapped back. "Oh, come on, you can't tell me that you're practically fluent in Russian and not tell me how!"
Fluent? Buddy, I knew two phrases. I told him anyways.
"The Russian alphabet fascinated me, because the R looks like a P, so I looked up a YouTube video about it." I shrugged, no biggie, and picked up my donut.
Taylor just continued to look at me with curiosity in his eyes like I was a science project. That was my cue to divert the attention back to him.
"I saw the game on Wednesday. You almost scored against St. Louis. Any other goalie, and I think that would have gone in. It was one hell of a save."
I expected for his eyes to drop, maybe for him to be frustrated, at the reminder that he still hadn't scored a goal yet. Instead, he looked as confident as ever.
"Yeah, I wish it went in, but I'm getting good looks which is the important thing. I can't control a good goalie."
He was right. And that was an impressive attitude.
"How is school going?"
I polished off the last of the donutâit was delicious and worthy of being in Tim Horton'sâand wiped my mouth.
"It's good. I just had a midterm this morning. Now I can rest tomorrow and get back to studying on Sunday. My next one is on Wednesday."
"But you love it," Taylor said.
I swallowed, feeling momentarily stunned. He said it with such conviction, like he knew me well enough to know that I loved school, that I thrived in that environment.
"Yeah, I do. That makes me sound like a big nerd, but I'm actually thankful. Of all the things I could love and be good it, being good at school seems like a useful one."
"I'm glad to hear that you're thankful. As someone who struggled through school because I always wished I was on the ice, you don't know how good you have it."
"Oh no, I do, at least a little bit. School was difficult for my brother, and when I was younger I was confused why he didn't like it, but looking back I think it's sad that he had to spend every day for a long time doing something he didn't like."
Not that there was a good alternative. I was a firm believer in getting a high school diploma, at least.
Taylor nodded. He shifted his body so that his arms were crossed over and resting against his chest and his legs were stretched out, one ankle over the other. One of his Nike clad feet was close to mine.
"Do you know what you want to do after school? I think you said you're graduating this year."
My head moved in the affirmative. "More school," I said brightly. "At least that's the plan. I'll be applying for grad school this winter."
His expression told me he was impressed. "What do you want to study? I can't guarantee I'll know what it is, but try me."
I gave him a small smile. This was the part where I got self-conscious. When relatives would ask, I'd receive things like "more school?" or "what are you going to do with that?"
But like Taylor said, I'd try him.
"Ultimately, I want to do research, so I'll be applying for experimental psychology programs. I know that's niche and not a lot of people get it..." I babbled as I turned my head to the side.
"No, I get it. It's something you're passionate about and talented in. I think it wouldn't make sense to stop, and not continue."
"That's what I think!"
The next time I'm asked what my spirit animal is, I'm going to respond with Taylor Hudson.
"I've started to research the programs but I'm not sure exactly where I want to go yet," I admitted.
"What are your options?"
"I'll apply in Winnipeg," I said, starting simple, and then inhaled deeply, "but Vancouver and Toronto also have good programs. Those schools are so damn far though and I don't know if I could handle being so far from my family but..."
My phone pinged and I was going to ignore it, but there were two more pings in quick succession. And another one.
It had to be the group chat.
"Sorry, it's my family chat. Let me just check quickly."
Speak of the devils.
Mom: How does chilli sound for dinner tomorrow? ð
Thomas: With garlic bread?
Mom: If you want, of course!
Beth: Count me in! Let me know if Thomas and I can bring something, other than the little monsters!
Dad: Yum! I'm already hungry!
My dad's message made me roll my eyes. He always responded to the messages from my mom even though he was probably sitting on the couch with her.
"What're you smiling at?" Taylor asked. His eyes were hooded and his grin looked amused.
"It's just my mom making plans for dinner tomorrow night. Every Saturday she makes something special and my brother and his family come over."
I held up a finger as I went to respond.
Me: Sounds good. I'm out now, so I won't respond.
Thomas: What, really?? You're out?
Offensive. I shoved my phone back into my bag.
"That sounds like fun," Taylor said. "What's your family like?"
"They're great. All a little crazy, emotional. We definitely like to spend time with each other. My mom is literally my other half and my dad tells me every day that I'm his favourite thing in the world."
I looked down at the table, feeling my eyes go glassy. Talking about my family always made me emotional. And I was considering living a plane ride away from them? Thinking about that made my head pound, so I shoved it aside.
"That sounds amazing. You're lucky to have that," Taylor smiled. "They're lucky to have you."
I took this boy in, his white hoodie and black Kings hat. Did he realize how lucky his family was to have him?
"I miss my family," he admitted quietly. "And I miss my mom's cooking. I wouldn't mind meeting yours," he added.
When he said that last sentence, there was a casualness in it, like he didn't really mean it, but I wasn't fooled.
"Come over then," I said, more serious than I had ever been in my life.
His eyes flickered to mine. "What?"
"If you want, I mean. If you want, you're more than welcome to join my family for dinner."
"I'd actually love that," Taylor said.
He sounded touched and that struck a chord inside me.
"I have back-to-back games this weekend, but how about next Saturday?"
I felt my smile in the crinkle of my eyes. "Saturday it is."
"What's going on Saturday?"
We looked over to see Angela and Lawson standing next to the table. I had forgotten that they were here with us, for a second.
"Nothing. Took you guys long enough to finish," Taylor said.
Good call. The other two didn't need to know about our plans at this point. It would be our little secret.
Angela rolled her eyes. "Stone hands here is garbage," she said as she flicked Lawson on the arm.
"How much do we owe you?" I asked Lawson.
"Oh, nothing. Taylor covered it. He insisted I pay with his card."
My head whipped to his.
"My treat," he mouthed as his shoulders shrugged.
No, it was actually mine.