The ride

Chapter Fifteen — The Ride

Monday morning started badly.

By eight-thirty, Beck was already having the kind of day he wanted to forget.

His first class had run over.

He'd forgotten his notes in the dorm.

And now, standing in the Northwood parking lot, he was staring at his mother's old car.

The hood was up.

Steam drifted from underneath it.

Beck stared.

“You have got to be kidding me.”

He checked the time.

8:47.

Practice started in less than an hour.

He pulled out his phone and called his mother.

She answered almost immediately.

“Everything okay?”

“My car just died.”

There was a pause.

“Oh, no.”

“Yeah. I'm kind of stranded.”

“I told you that car was getting old.”

“I know.”

“I'll send you some money for a mechanic.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

Beck hung up and looked at the car again.

A mechanic wasn't going to get there quickly enough.

He sighed.

Then he heard an engine approaching.

Not an ordinary engine.

A very expensive engine.

A black Rolls-Royce pulled into the parking lot and stopped beside him.

Beck stared.

The rear door opened.

And Aitor stepped out.

Of course.

Aitor looked at Beck.

Then at the broken-down car.

Then back at Beck.

“What happened?”

“Nothing.”

Aitor glanced at the smoking hood.

“Your car appears to disagree.”

Beck sighed.

“It broke down.”

Aitor checked his watch.

“You're going to practice?”

“Obviously.”

“I'll drive you.”

Beck immediately shook his head.

“No.”

Aitor raised an eyebrow.

“Why?”

“Because I'd rather walk.”

“You're twenty minutes from the hockey centre.”

“I'll run.”

“You'll be late.”

Beck looked at the Rolls-Royce.

Then at Aitor.

Then back at the car.

He hated that Aitor was right.

“Fine.”

Aitor stepped aside.

“After you.”

Beck grabbed his hockey bag.

“This doesn't mean I like you.”

“I wouldn't dream of assuming that.”

The inside of the Rolls-Royce was exactly what Beck expected.

Luxurious.

Quiet.

Impossibly clean.

The seats were soft, the interior smelled new, and everything looked like it belonged in a magazine.

Beck sat in the back.

Aitor sat beside him.

The driver closed the door.

The car pulled away.

For the first minute, neither spoke.

Beck stared out the window.

Aitor looked straight ahead.

The silence was strange.

Not the comfortable kind.

The kind where both people were thinking about the same thing but refusing to say it.

Finally, Beck spoke.

“Do you always get picked up in this thing?”

Aitor glanced at him.

“Usually.”

“Of course.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“You said 'of course.'”

“I didn't say anything.”

“You did.”

Beck looked out the window again.

“Your life is ridiculous.”

Aitor laughed quietly.

“You've mentioned that.”

“Because it's true.”

“My parents have a driver. It's not my decision.”

Beck looked at him.

“Must be nice.”

Aitor's smile disappeared.

“You think everything is easy because my family has money.”

“I didn't say that.”

“You don't have to.”

Beck looked down.

There it was again.

That wall between them.

Neither seemed willing to admit that maybe they had misunderstood each other.

The car turned onto another road.

The temperature inside suddenly felt warmer.

Beck tugged slightly at the collar of his shirt.

“Is it hot in here?”

Aitor glanced at him.

“A little.”

He adjusted the air conditioning.

Cool air began flowing through the car.

“Better?”

“Yeah.”

Another silence.

Beck shifted in his seat.

Aitor did the same.

Their shoulders nearly touched when the car turned.

Both immediately moved apart.

Beck stared out the window.

Aitor looked down at his phone.

Neither said anything.

Then Beck's phone buzzed.

A message from Evan.

Evan: Hey. Want to grab coffee after class?

Beck smiled.

Aitor noticed.

“Evan?”

Beck looked up.

“What?”

“You smiled.”

“So?”

“Nothing.”

Beck's smile became slightly more obvious.

“He asked me to get coffee.”

Aitor's expression tightened.

“Are you going?”

“Maybe.”

“Right.”

Beck studied him.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“That's twice you've said nothing today.”

Aitor looked out the window.

“You seem happy.”

“I am.”

Aitor nodded.

“Good.”

But there was something about the way he said it that didn't sound convincing.

Beck watched him for a moment.

Then he smiled to himself.

Maybe Aitor was jealous.

No.

That was ridiculous.

Why would Aitor care?

The car slowed as they approached the hockey centre.

Aitor finally looked at him.

“You're going to be late.”

“Because of my car.”

“Which is why you should probably get it fixed.”

Beck laughed.

“Thanks, Dad.”

Aitor rolled his eyes.

The car stopped.

Beck opened the door, then paused.

“Thanks for the ride.”

Aitor looked surprised by the sincerity.

“You're welcome.”

Beck stepped out.

Before closing the door, he looked back.

“See you at practice, Valdez.”

Aitor nodded.

“See you, Hayes.”

The door shut.

The Rolls-Royce pulled away.

Beck watched it disappear.

He couldn't explain why the ride had felt so strange.

And inside the car, Aitor sat silently, staring through the window at Beck until the hockey centre disappeared behind them.

Neither of them said what they were thinking.

But both were beginning to realize something dangerous.

Their rivalry was becoming harder to understand.