Page 33 of Pinch

9

Haddy

“Are you really a princess?” A little girl in the white hockey helmet squints up at me.

Her curly brown hair is styled in two pigtails on either side of her head, and she’s dressed in skates, black leggings, and a kid-sized white Champions sweater with Mav’s name and number on the back.

She looks like she’s probably in first or second grade, and like all the kids, she’s holding a hockey stick. She’s in the box with me and the other camp participants her age waiting for their turn with the team on the ice.

“I sure am.” I smile down at her.

Gavin is in the rink with Maverick and about ten of his other teammates. They’re leading a mixed group of boys and girls through basic hockey plays, culminating in a chance to slam the puck into the net.

I’m pretty sure the Champions’ goalie is only pretending to try and block, since they all score. Still, he puts on a goodact, and they all get so excited to get it past him. It’s really sweet.

I’m wearing a fluffy white jacket and black leggings along with my small tiara and a sash that says International Princess Woman.

I didn’t go all out, since it’s not a parade, but the coach asked if I would make an inspirational speech. I only found out about it this morning, and I’ve been working on it ever since.

“Is your dad a king?” Another little girl jumps up and down, causing me to scoot my feet back to protect my toes.

“My dad’s a football player.”

“My dad says football is way less awesome than hockey.” The first little girl’s nose wrinkles.

I’m about to reply when an oversized little boy sitting on the bench and swinging his feet yells, “My dad’s mean as a snake!”

Chewing my lip, I squint my eyes, unsure how to respond to that one.

“Do you think girls can play hockey?” The little jumping bean has stopped jumping, and she’s now holding my hand.

She’s a cutie, and I lean down to whisper in her ear. “Girls can do whatever they set their minds to.”

Her dark eyes widen with excitement, and she nods. “That’s what my momma said!”

“It sounds like you’ve got a smart mom.”

A whistle tweets, and Gav swirls up to where we’re waiting. “Next group, on the ice!”

The other kids have gone to sit on the bench across from us, and the little ones who were surrounding me flood into the rink with cheers and yells.

Gav hangs back, leaning on his arm against the plexiglass partition. “How are you feeling?”

“Good.” I smile up at him. “They’re really cute.”

“Yeah. We’ll do a round with this group, then you’ll say a few words, and that’s it.”

“I’ll be ready!”

His smile is adorably crooked, and he skates backwards a bit before turning to join the other guys. I’m not cold at all as I watch him guiding the little hockey girl through a play, culminating in her slamming it into the net. Up next, he shows the little boy with the snake-dad how a pinch works, which I only know because Gigi explained it to me.

Maverick waves at me, and I lift my chin with a smile. I’d already gone to bed when he came in last night, but if he stayed out late, you’d never know it. He’s as smiling and energetic as the rest of the guys.

Another twenty minutes pass quickly, and the little ones are sweaty and thirsty. They return to the bench area, and I step back to let them grab water bottles and flop on the seat.

Two of the team players quickly unroll a red carpet leading to center ice for me, and the coach skates over to where I’m waiting.

“Thanks for coming out, Miss Bradford. We’re ready when you are.”