COMPLETED. A university student. A professional hockey player. They've proved they can be friends. Can they be more?
Although they're both in their early twenties and living in Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada, their lives couldn't be more different. Cami...
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"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.
