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Zaiah talks about hockey like I talk about writing. He’s making his dreams come true out on the ice. Why wouldn’t I support him? Plus, I made a deal with him. He helps me, I help him.
To my right, the concessions worker dumps the popping popcorn, sending a whiff of memories my way. The arena smells like my father’s only love, but maybe it will eventually smell like Zaiah’s hope.
What am I talking about?Myhope is that this is the last time I have to set foot in a place like this.
Izzy gets her popcorn, then leads the way to our seats. “So, my brother says there’s nothing going on between you two. Yet you’re here at his game?”
“Oh, yeah, no,” I blurt out. “There’s nothing going on between us. He’s helping me with something.”
“With what?”
I scratch the side of my face, feeling like I stepped in it. I should’ve kept my mouth shut, but I didn’t know what to say.Was wading through his family’s questions part of this deal?Ugh.“Well, I actually like this other guy.”
“Another player?” she guesses.
“God no.”
We turn the corner near the ice, and she laughs. “You really don’t like hockey players, do you?”
I grab the railing, and it wobbles in my hand. This arena is less grand than the one I’m used to, and it’s also a little worse for wear. I’ll note that down for my story…whatever it’s going to be about.
“More like I don’t actually like athletes in general,” I say with an awkward smile. “Competitive sports turn me off.”
She laughs again. “I’m used to seeing girls trip over themselves to talk to Z. I think you’re good for him. Chop down that ego a bit.”
I roll my eyes. “You should see the girls with the football players on campus. They’re treated like royalty. And for what? Because they can throw a ball?”
“Exactly!” she exclaims. “And it’s not reciprocated. I play field hockey and no one cares. No one attends my games except for family members of the other players. No scantily clad hot dudes line up before I get to the locker room, begging me to take them to bed.”
“Take you to bed?” a female voice echoes.
Izzy peers up at her mom. “Talking with Lenore about the injustice of female versus male sports and how they’re looked at like gods and I might as well be a lesbian.”
“I would love you no matter what,” Mrs. James remarks in all seriousness.
Izzy scoots down the line past Zaiah’s parents, and his mom reaches out to hug me again. She smells of flowers and vanilla…and bacon. She must have made breakfast this morning.Probably better than the oatmeal I scarfed down while staring at my clock tower notes.
“Fancy meeting you here,” his dad says, putting his hand gently on my arm when I walk past. “You may continue your boy-bashing. Don’t mind me. I’m a girl dad, too.”
I snicker, but then I stare down at what’s waiting on my seat for me.
My seat is covered in Bulldog blue, complete with a seat topper with a cushion and a huge symbol of our school mascot, the Bulldog. In the seat is a cowbell; a wiry, blue wig; and a Warner hockey shirt.
I’ve seen these types of fans before from the box. They’re uber fans, and they’re crazy.
Izzy nudges me with her elbow. “Aren’t you so glad my brother made you come?”
I peer up. The three figures next to me are now wearing the wiry, bright-blue wigs, transforming from three normal people to fanatics in an instant.
“We wanted to ease you into it, dear.”
Mrs. James adding a nice sentiment onto the end of that remark doesn’t make up for what’s about to happen.I could refuse…
At that moment, someone bangs on the boards protecting the crowd from rogue pucks. I startle, then glance over to find Zaiah waving at me, his mouthpiece in hand. With his helmet tipped up, the mischievous spark in his eyes is evident.
“You fucker.”
Izzy throws her arms around me, her laughter like tinkling bells. “Oh, I knew I was going to like you.”