Page 4

Grif

N erves shot through me as I entered the arena full of skate smash fans wearing both Manhattan Maimers and Boston Blockingjays jerseys.

Dean had outsourced my big romantic gesture to the Knights group chat. Apparently, the Maimers had glitter-bombed our locker room. They’d also hidden a bunch of our equipment after defacing it with Maimers stickers.

The team consensus was that something needed to be done in front of the Maimers before our equipment managers quit. Sure, the Maimers were going on the road, but if anyone could wreak havoc from afar, it would be them.

Now, here I was. Alone. Wearing an unofficial Team Mom jersey that Carlos’ brother-in-law’s print shop made me while carrying a handmade sign and a teddy bear.

Skate smash was all about the nicknames. There were lots of signs for Have No Mercy, Grievous Bodily Charm, Rusty Nails, and the like. The fact that Verity had a nickname all her own only cemented that she wasn’t simply their underage rookie’s chaperone, she was one of them.

In skate smash, if you fucked with one of them, you fucked with the whole team. Considering it was even rougher than hockey, that was quite a threat.

I squeezed past an empty seat and two teenage girls, one wearing Mercy’s jersey, the other Kaiko’s. They both had long, colorful nails, big hoop earrings, lots of glow necklaces and smelled of fake strawberries.

Beside the girls was an empty seat, then mine. The seats were directly behind the Maimers’ bench, only the glass separating us. It felt odd to be here but not playing. The same family owned both our team and the Maimers’, so we shared not only the training facility but also the ice, benches, and stands.

On the other side of me sat a bunch of women a little older than me, who sounded like they’d started drinking a few hours ago.

One of the teenagers I’d passed to get to my seat eyed my sign and jersey. Her eyelashes were done in Manhattan Maimers colors–red and black. She made a face. “Gross. You know she’s taken, right?”

“Um, I do. She’s mine. I’m surprising her tonight.” I grinned at them even though my belly twisted a little, hoping those words still held true.

“Um, no. She’s dating some sports dude. What does he play?” The other one snapped her gum. Her ponytail had Maimers colors and blinking lights.

“Ice Rugby, maybe?” The first one shrugged.

Two more teenagers, one with their cat-eared hoodie up, the other wearing a beanie, entered the row heading towards the ones sitting next to me. One carried hot-chip nachos, popcorn, and a lime whirl with a bendy straw. The other had dinosaur-shaped pizza nuggets and ice cream.

“We’re sitting here? You’re shitting my dick,” the one with the hoodie up said as she handed the first girl the ice cream. She, too, had glow necklaces.

The girl with the red and black eyelashes took the ice cream and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Told you my pops got us good seats.”

“This is better than a blowjob from a dinosaur. I’ve never sat this close before.” The guy in the beanie handed the second girl the nachos and sat on the far empty seat.

Wow, they made me feel old. I didn’t understand half of what they’d said.

The hoodied one sat next to me, bumping my leg. “Sorry, dude.” She looked over and sucked in a breath. “Fuck me dead and bury me preggers. You’re Grif Graf.”

“Shit.” The guy leaned over and waved. “Hey, Grif Graf.”

“Who?” The girl with the eyelashes blinked.

“The chief whacker of haters for the New York Hits People with Sticks,” the guy added.

“We saw him last night on TV. He scored three goals and gave Team Mom the jersey,” the girl next to me with the blinking ponytail added. “Wow, dude. What are you doing here?”

“I’m here for her.” I gestured to the sign. “She made me a sign the first time she came to one of my games.”

“Oh.” The one with the ponytail snapped her gum. “You’re her actual sports dude. Huh.”

That’s all I got? A huh? I did like being referred to as the chief whacker of haters . Maybe I should add that to my social media profile. Along with sports dude.

“Can we get a selfie?” The beanie guy held up his phone.

The lights blinked, and an announcer’s voice boomed, “Welcome to tonight’s game featuring the Manhattan Maimers and the Boston Blockingjays. It’s blanket toss night, with all blankets going to the crisis units for the Manhattan Omega Center and the New York City Police. Tonight’s special guests are the Brooklyn Blankets, our local all-omega skate smash team.”

“After,” the girl with the eyelashes hissed. “The blanket toss is going to start.”

The arena darkened and spotlights lit up the ice as music played. First, the mascot came out. Dizzy was a red fuzzy monster with an ax.

A bunch of people skated out in a chain, one of them looking a little awkward. As they got into the light, my grin spread. I knew she was helping, hence my plan, but I didn’t know they got her on skates. I pulled the sign closer to me.

“Aww, Team Mom’s on the ice,” the one with the eyelashes gushed. “She doesn’t skate, does she?”

“I don’t think so,” the one with the ponytail said. “I’ve only seen one picture of her on skates, and that was with Grif Graf.”

“Hi everyone. I’m Team Mom. Rusty, Liv, Dizzy, the rookies, and I welcome you.” Verity beamed, her voice a bit shaky, as the big screens of the arena broadcast her. She was holding Mercy’s hand. “Your help today means everything.”

“I’m Rusty Nails, and thanks for joining us. I’d also like to thank the Brooklyn Blankets for helping us out today.” Rusty said into the mic and got everyone riled up.

Dizzy and the rookies skated around the rink, encouraging everyone to hold up their blankets.

Someone tossed a blanket onto the ice.

“Uh uh uh.” Verity made a fake scoldy mom face. “Not until we say.”

“Let’s count down from ten. I want to hear you scream! ” Rusty shouted.

Colorful lights flashed around the arena as numbers counted down on the screen, and the crowd joined in. This differed from how we did it in hockey, where everyone tossed them on the ice after the home team scored their first goal.

On one, thousands of blankets rained down from all corners of the arena. I didn’t have a blanket, but the teens next to me launched theirs over the glass and bench and onto the ice.

The lights continued to pulse as the DJ played thumping music, and the overhead bubble machines went off. Because of the angles of the arena, many blankets landed in the lower seats instead of the ice.

“I don’t know any of these songs, but this mix is fire, ” the girl with the blinking ponytail said as she tossed armfuls of the blankets over the glass, where Maimers staff stuffed them in bags.

“Have No Mercy might have done it? She always has the best songs no one knows on her Musify,” the one with the eyelashes added, tossing another blanket over.

The Maimers’ DJ texted me that it was almost time. Carlos knew her and had convinced her to help me tonight.

The person operating the crowd cams that put fans on the big screens in the arena was the same for our games. So that had been an easy ask.

The announcer warned everyone to finish throwing their blankets as people wearing uniforms for the Brooklyn Blankets and people in Omega Center polos and police uniforms helped the rookies put the blankets in sacks. Dizzy kept pushing people into the piles.

The music changed to what I’d been told was Verity’s favorite upbeat song. I shot up out of my seat, the sign high over my head.

“Team Mom, Team Mom!” the teens shouted and pointed to me.

“Hey, you’re Grif Graf,” one of the drunk ladies beside me slurred. She turned to her friends. “Help him get Team Mom’s attention. This is so romantic.”

There I was, up on every screen in the arena, wearing my Team Mom jersey and holding my handmade sign that says Grif Graf Loves Team Mom in the center of a big heart. Everyone started yelling Team Mom, and saying look, it’s Grif Graf.

Verity’s face as she saw the screen was everything.

My heart melted. In that moment, I knew everything would be okay.

The screens split, showing me on one side and her reaction on the other. She scanned the arena, looking for me in the stands.

“Here, right here!” the teens yelled, pointing to me.

Verity waved. She skated toward me and wavered a little. Rusty put an arm around her, and they skated until they were right in front of the bench.

Beaming, she made a heart with her hands, and scrambled onto the bench with Rusty’s help, nearly stumbling.

“Grif.” She faced me, looking like she was happy to see me, the glass between us.

My heart burst with love.

I put down the sign, well aware that we were still on the giant screens. “Love you, Team Mom.”

“Love you, too, Grif Graf.” Verity placed a manicured hand on the glass. Her long, near black hair was back in a French braid. Like nearly always, she had that shiny pink gloss on her lips. She wore knee pads over her leggings, and had on wrist guards.

I put my large hand to her smaller, golden one, wishing there was no glass.

The teens next to me took pictures and waved frantically.

“Hi there.” Verity smiled and waved, taking some beaded bracelets off her wrist and throwing them over the glass.

One girl jumped up and down and threw one back, which Verity caught and put on her other wrist.

Verity’s blue-green eyes turned on me. “Hi.”

“Hi. I wanted to see my favorite girl before she left.” I put my forehead on the glass.

Rusty came up beside her, dressed in her red and black Maimers jersey and black shorts, with colorful socks. Like always, she had a rusty nail temporary tattoo on her cheek.

“That was sweet, Grif. But Team Mom and I have to go,” Rusty told me.

“I’ll be right here the whole game.” I blew her a kiss. “Oh, this is for you. If you get lonely, hug him and know I’m with you.” Taking the fluffy little bear, I tossed it to her over the glass.

She held it to her, a giddy look crossing her face. Verity blew me a kiss back and waved as she and Rusty left. People continued to clean up all the blankets on the ice so the game could start, though the rookies had left.

Well, all but one. Mercy stood in front of me. Like Rusty, she was in full gear and uniform except for her helmet. Her makeup was a lot more dramatic than she wore day-to-day, and she had fishnets over tan leggings, which were probably the cut-proof kind.

Mercy’s big brown eyes focused on me. “That was good.”

Someone yelled her name, and with a wave, Mercy left the bench.

“Do you think that went well?” I asked the teens next to me. Anxiousness sizzled through me as I wished I could talk to Verity, hold her.

“That was so romantic,” the one with the eyelashes said. “She gave me a bracelet. Hers are so fancy.” She held out her wrist, the bracelet filled with round crackly beads and letters spelling out Smash It. Bracelet trading was a thing in skate smash.

“Oh, I thought you were going to propose,” the drunk woman on my other side sighed.

“Another time.” I’d absolutely marry that woman. Mate her. Live with her.

Love her always.

“Can we get that selfie now before the game starts?” The guy on the end held out his phone.

My phone buzzed.

Verity

That was sweet and unexpected. I’ll visit you at intermission.

I looked over at the expectant faces of the teenagers, which were lit by their glow necklaces. “Absolutely.”