Ch 4 – Knock Me Right Off My Feet
Maybe if he didn't make it into the NHL, he could try out for the professional ceiling starers league. He was getting quite good at it.
What the fuck was her deal? Seriously. He paid the girl a compliment. Told her she looked hot. Did something nice for her, gave her his jacket. Saved her life for crissakes! And she just yells at him.
Her voice played over and over in his head. "What are you doing?" It kept getting meaner, every time he heard it. "What do you think you're doing, Dean?" "What the fuck are you doing, Dean?" "I don't want anything to do with you, Dean."
He wanted to scream that she could fuck off, that she could take her attitude and shove it, that he didn't give a shit what she thought about him, that there were a million girls just like her begging to date him.
But he knew it wasn't true, and that made him even angrier. He cared. A lot. Not just about what she thought of him, but about what she thought of his cd collection, of hockey, of what she wore…
He cared a lot about her. And there weren't a million girls like her. There weren't any girls like her. She was always so calm, so put together, except when he was kissing her, and then she was forceful and passionate. If he kept thinking about her like that, he'd be showering every hour.
Dean groaned and rolled over, burying his face in his pillow. It'd all go away if he was patient enough. Time heals all things, his mom had always told him. He'd get over Julie, find a girl who didn't think he wasn't good enough. And it wasn't like Julie was wrong, she was too good for him. He couldn't even aspire to her level.
She was a better student.
She was from a better family.
She was better looking.
She was a better hockey player.
Nothing he could do would ever change that.
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Sunday dawned for the Ducks and it was back to the homework and studying. The end of April had meant the beginning of final exams and projects, and a week into May, most of the Ducks were already stressing about their grades. Especially Dean.
He'd had his French textbook glued to his hands since breakfast, and even all through dinner. Fulton could barely get a word out of his best friend. Not that Dean particularly wanted to talk to Fulton after what had happened last night. Running out of a crowded club full of hotties was just a tad unusual for "the Port-man."
"Raaaaagggggghhhhhhhhhhuuuuhhhh." Dean dropped his head on to his book, in complete defeat. There was no way he was going to be able to pass this quiz. And then he'd get benched, and then he'd be out of practice, and then he'd never get into the NHL or a college scholarship! Why did he have to kiss Julie! Maybe if she'd actually tutored him, he wouldn't have to work at McDonald's for the rest of his life.
The shaggy haired Bash Brother looked over at his roommate. "You okay dude?"
"I'm going to fail," Dean whined, sounding about half his age. Fulton just rolled his eyes. For someone who prided himself on his masculinity, Portman could be a total drama queen.
"Didn't your teacher get you a tutor?"
"Yes, but Julie hates me." His voice was turning into a bit of a whimper.
"What about Guy? He's half Canadian, right? Doesn't his dad speak French?"
Dean straightened up like he'd been poked with a cattle prod. "You're a genius, bro!" He grabbed his books and dashed out of the room, searching for his fair-haired Quebecois friend.
Knocking on Guy and Russ's door, Dean felt better for the first time in a week. He could pass French. He could be okay with Julie dating Adam..or whoever. This could all work out. Things were definitely looking up.
That's when Connie opened the door.
And promptly slammed it in his face.
"Who is it?" Dean heard Guy's voice and some shuffling steps. "Hey Dean." Guy ran a hand through his ruffled blond hair.
"Hey. Is now a bad time?"
"Um, no." Connie stood behind her boyfriend, glaring out the open door. He stepped aside and let Dean in. "So," Guy asked cautiously, "what's up?"
"I was hoping you could help me with my French."
"I didn't know you swung that way," Connie snapped. "I mean, seriously, how often does that line work for you?"
"What the hell Cons?" Guy turned to the petite brunette, thoroughly confused by her hostility. "What do you have against Portman?"
"I'm just trying to protect my boyfriend from this…predator." She sniffed, chin high.
"Predator?" Dean asked, taken aback. "I know I'm big..but.."
Connie just narrowed her eyes. "You know what I'm talking about. I don't like it when someone tries to play my friends."
"Play…" She had to be talking about Julie. She thought he was the one jerking Julie around. For the first time since he was thirteen, Dean was starting to get seriously pissed off. He'd learned to control his anger. Take it out in sports, exercise…but now…
"You know what Connie, you can fuck off! Julie's the one with a stick up her ass! Can't date the poor guy! Can't date the stupid guy! So why don't you ask her why she keeps blue balling me before jumping down my throat!"
Guy was cowering by his bed. Connie just looked at him in shock.
"Whatever," Dean shook his head. "I'm out of here. Guy, seriously, I need help. If you can get away from the ball and chain for awhile, that is." He resisted the urge to slam the door to punctuate his leaving.
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"Jules, you're gonna hate me."
That was never a good opening line. Julie turned in her chair as Connie entered the room. She wasn't getting much done on her Pre-Calculus anyway.
"I'm not going to hate you." She pulled her chair over to the bed where Connie had plopped. "So, what did you do?"
"You are going to hate me."
"I am not. Tell me."
"I kinda yelled at Dean." Connie plucked at her blanket. "He yelled back at me, too."
"What!" Julie jumped out of her chair, furious. "Why the hell would you do that Connie?"
"You just seemed so upset yesterday, I was mad at him."
"Connieeeeeeeee…"
"I'm sorry, Jules." She got up and pulled her best friend into a bear hug. "I let my temper get the best of me."
Hugging Connie back, Julie could feel the tears rise again.
"Hey, hey. Don't cry girl. I do have some good news." Connie smiled gently at the sniffling blonde.
Julie laughed softly, wiping at her eyes. "Oh, yeah? Did Dawson's Creek get cancelled?"
"No, silly, that show's gonna be on forever. Dean said something interesting when he was yelling at me."
"Yeah?" Julie perked up, still sniffling a little. "What?"
"That you were the one with a stick up your ass."
"What! That's so insulting! What an asshole!" Julie picked up Dean's jacket and started to throw it on the floor, but Connie stopped her.
"No, no, listen carefully. He said that you were the one who didn't want to date the poor guy, the stupid guy. You didn't want him. Not the other way around."
"Oh." The pretty goalie tightened her grip on the old leather jacket. "What?"
"Oh, whatever! You're the smartest person I know! It's not hard to put together. Dean likes you, he just thinks you don't like him."
Julie's eyes went so wide that Connie was a little afraid that one might pop out. "He can't actually like me."
"Can't? Julie, he does!"
"But he's Dean! He's hot, and he likes hockey, and he's a total player, and he'd never like me."
"Aw, sweetie, now you're just in denial."
"I am not!"
"Yeah, you are. You're making excuses. You're a beautiful person, anyone can see that, even someone as thick skulled as Dean." Connie gave her another hug.
Julie brought the jacket to her face, her eyes troubled. "You really think he likes me?"
"Have I ever steered you wrong before?"
"Oh, Cons, do not even pull that. Must I mention 'perm-at-home'?"
"Hey, those curls were sexy."
"Curls? You couldn't even call those kinks! More like frizz-at-home!"
"You are just negative!"
"I am not! I just care, deeply, about my hair."
They laughed for a minute, but as it died out, Connie got serious again. "You should go talk to him. Honestly talk to him. It's easy to think you know what someone's going to say. Trust me, I'm good at that."
Tilting her head, Julie realized that Connie was right. "Where are you hiding my best friend. My best friend is not that mature!"
Connie smiled. "I've been in the same relationship since I was nine. I should hope that I've learned a thing or two! Now, shoo, go talk to Dean. You're not going to get any studying done until you do." She opened the door and smacked the Cat Lady on the butt. "Out!"
"I'm going! I'm going!" The door to the girls' room shut behind her, and Julie felt the butterflies return to her stomach.
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It was a timid knock, so soft that Dean almost didn't hear it. Stretching lazily, he dropped his French book onto his bed and answered his door. No one was there. Peering into the hallway his heart dropped into his stomach.
"Julie?"
She turned around, caught fleeing from the scene.
"Um, I thought you weren't…there."
"Sorry..I didn't hear at first."
It was an awkward silence. Finally, Julie remembered what she was holding.
"I, uh, wanted to give this back to you." She couldn't look at him, it was too embarrassing.
"Thanks." He ran his fingers through his hair, making his tee-shirt ride up.
God, she thought, how is it possible for a man to have sexy hips?
"Hey, Jules?"
"Yeah?" Focus, focus…focus was necessary.
"Can you tell Connie I'm sorry? I kinda went off on her earlier."
This was her opening. Remember Cat-Lady, her inner dialogue continued, focus!
"About that…" Dean's face fell even further. She hated him now. He'd totally fucked it up forever and ever now. "Can I come in?"
Taken aback, Dean just nodded. As she walked by him, he noticed she was wearing a tighter shirt than he was used to. It looked good. Really good. He mentally groaned. Getting over this…bout of lust…was not going to be easy.
She kept her eyes firmly on the carpet. "I heard you thought I had a stick up my ass."
"Yeah, um, what I meant was.."
"Dean." She smiled at him nervously. "You were right.
"Uh..run that by me again?"
"I did have a stick up my ass, I guess. I…uh…well, I like you, but I couldn't believe that anyone would like me."
His eyes took up about half of his face, he was so amazed. "But you're Julie, the hottest Cat Lady since Michelle Pfeiffer. I mean…god, you're…untouchable."
The tears started welling up again, and Julie blinked hard. "Um, well, I'm just going to go then…"
"Julie, stop!" Dean pulled her into a tight hug. "In a good way! Untouchable in a good way!"
Blinking, Julie buried her face in his chest. "See! I'm always thinking the worst!"
It made Dean grin when her nose rubbed across his chest. What the hell was a girl like this doing in his arms? The thought quickly sobered him.
"What about your family?"
"What about my family?" Her forehead bumped against his chin.
"Won't they be disappointed in you?"
"Disappointed? For liking you?" Finally, Julie was able to look him in the eye. "Dean, my family already knows you. We've been friends since I was thirteen."
He blushed for the first time in over two years. She was right. "I just thought, since you guys are rich and all…"
Julie broke into a huge smile. "Was that all? You don't think I'm a lesbian. Or that it's weird I play hockey?"
"What?" Never one good at hiding his astonishment, he definitely gave away his astonishment. "It's hot that you play hockey! And..well, if you were a lesbian, that'd be kinda hot too, but you're not, right?"
"No." She laughed a little. "I most definitely like guys."
He squeezed her a little tighter. "I'm sorry Kitten, I've been an asshole. I thought you were gonna be just like all the other girls in this school. Just in it for my pretty face, yanno?"
With that one little joke, the tension in Julie's body eased a little bit. "Who says I'm not?"
A smiled peeked out of the corner of his mouth. "Well, I thought you would at least be in it for my hot bod, too."
Her hand slid up his chest, playing with the cotton of his tee-shirt. "Oh, trust me, I hadn't forgotten." The flirting felt good, natural. She liked Dean, and that was okay. And…he leaned down to kiss her and she stopped him with a finger on his lips.
"Just to make absolutely sure, if I kiss you now, you're going to ask me out afterwards, right?"
"Do you want to go get a bite or something later?" He nibbled on her ring finger while she pretended to think about it. "Well…?"
"Don't be silly, Dean, do you really think we'll get out of here while restaurants are still open?"
He didn't even bother to answer. He just kissed her.