Page 16

"I'm still not sure I even want to go." I mumbled to Mable as she was grabbing both of our coats off of the hook by the door.

"Come on, Val. Please?" She gave me puppy eyes.

"I don't know anything about hockey!" I pointed out. "And neither do you."

"Sure I do." She said confidently.

I narrowed my eyes. "Okay then, what's the name of the team?"

She hesitated and I raised my eyebrows.

"Fine! I know nothing but that isn't the point. Marcus invited us."

"Marcus invited you." I returned.

"Yeah, but he knows that we come as a pair. Plus, I'm sure Thomas would want you to be there. You guys are like friends now. It's weird but not a bad thing."

I mulled this over. The past week or two with Thomas had actually been kind of fun. He would come over, I'd make him a cup of tea that he pretended to like even though I saw him grimacing when he thought my back was turned, we would talk for half the time and then we'd actually study. I won't lie, I think I preferred the talking part. He was funny and asked me questions about myself like What's your favourite colour? I'd say green and then he'd ask Do you prefer Summer or Winter? Winter of course. He was... nice. And I found that I had started to like him more and more.

"What exactly is going on between you and Marcus?" I decided to ask.

Mable averted her gaze from my eyes. "We're just... hanging out."

"Hanging out?" I said, raising my eyebrows.

"Don't give me that look." She said, frowning.

"Okay but didn't you swear off of dating for the rest of your life?" I remarked.

A sad look passed over her freckled face.

When Mable was eight, she moved houses. Not a huge move, just a Victorian terraced house with insane views and worth millions of pounds a couple streets away from her equally lavish old house.

Her Mother made her bake cookies to give to their new neighbours and that was where she met Lucas. Lucas, the nine year old next door, was Mable's first love.

They quickly became friends and at 11 and 12, he was her first kiss. At 13 and 14, they declared themselves dating and Mable was head over heels in love. It seemed that Lucas was as well.

For a couple of years, they went everywhere together and were the perfect couple and had love that I always aspired to have but knew that deep down it would never happen due to factors out of my control. (My family).

Anyway, Lucas did everything for her and in return so did Mable. He played football (he was a sub) and Mable still went to every single one of his games.

When Mable and I were 14, he started coming to our ballet shows and I became friends with him also. I'd only seen him at a couple because I quit shortly after but this was where he met Bee Harris. One of the girls in our ballet class.

Unknown to Mable, he had been cheating on her with Bee for the last two and a half years of their 3 and a half year long relationship.

Mable found out at 16. She was an emotional wreck. The majority of her relationship had been built on lies when she was sure she couldn't be happier.

She endured living next door to him, she endured and ignored his apologies and so when I offered the chance to run away to New York, she agreed promptly.

Since then, she has sworn off of all relationships, never seeing the same man twice... until Marcus.

"I know, but it's been two years and he seems really genuine." She said quietly.

"I'm sure he is, but I just don't want you to get your hopes up." I said, giving up and taking my coat from her hand. She beamed at the gesture.

"He isn't Lucas." She said confidently.

"Yeah, because Marcus doesn't claim to be the captain when he's actually a fucking sub." I laughed and then laughed even harder when Mable let out a giggle of her own.

---

When we arrived, I immediately noticed that everyone was in blue.

"Team colour?" Mable guessed.

"Must be." I stared at our clothing of choice. Neither of us was wearing blue.

We wove our way through and then showed our tickets that Marcus had paid for.

We were about to go through to the rink to find our seats when a familiar face made his way towards us.

Simon.

"Hey guys!" He said, far too excited to see us. He didn't look like he was properly dressed yet to go onto the rink.

"Oh, hi Simon." I said with a polite smile. "This is Mable." I add.

"Oh cool. I'm Simon. Soon to be captain of the ice hockey team." He said confidently.

"Congratulations?" Mable offered, giving me a subtle but confused look.

"Yeah, this game's gonna be the decider for Coach. I'll get it."

His cockiness was sickening but Mable and I just stayed there, smiling politely. "Good luck." I said, crossing my fingers behind my back. I was secretly wishing Thomas good luck and knew that he would get it. He's pretty much good at everything so it would make sense.

"Anyways, Marcus told me to give you guys these." He handed over two blue jerseys with the number '11' on them. "For support." He tacked on.

I glanced at Mable before taking the jerseys.

"What does this number mean?" Mable asked.

"It's Marcus' number." Simon said innocently.

This convinced Mable and she was soon slipping it over her head. When she saw that I had made no move to wear it, she said, "Go on. We need to get our seats."

I looked at Simon and he gave me an encouraging nod so I put it over my head.

"Thanks, Simon." I said, smiling.

"It's no problem. I have to get ready now but I'll see you out there."

"Sure." And then he was gone.

Mable and I then made our way into the rink, trying to get the best seats possible. To our dismay, all seats even remotely close to the rink were taken up so we made our way to a pair of seats a bit further back.

However, before we could sit down, a large man dressed in a black suit came to stand right before where we were sitting, looming over us.

He turned to Mable, "Are you Ms Fernbrier?" He asked in a deep voice.

"I am." Mable squeaked.

"This way please."

Mable turned to me in slight confusion and panic then the man said, "You too." To me.

I pointed to myself in a silent question riddled with disbelief when he sighed, "Yes, you."

Without further encouragement, we promptly followed after him as he made his way to the front row. A pair of seats, smack bang in the middle with a perfect view of the rink was waiting for us.

"Mister Marcus Williamson has reserved these seats for you."

"For us?" Mable mumbled in awe.

The man rolled his eyes and looked entirely bored with our constant questioning and said, "Yes, you."

We both sat down, deciding to not question him any further, waiting for the game to begin.

Once the man had walked away, I decided to take in my surroundings. Many people were wearing blue but a couple were wearing red. The colours of the teams.

Then I paid more attention to what people were wearing and realised that there was an overwhelming number of people wearing blue jerseys with '8' on it.

Mable seemed to notice this too because she said, "Someone's popular."

"I wonder who number 8 is." I returned.

Before we could talk more on the matter, a man over the loud speaker started talking, saying who the teams were etc.

The red team came out and they waved to the crowd, gaining a couple of cheers before taking their positions.

Then the blues came out.

At the front, leading them was Thomas and right behind him was Marcus.

Thomas looked grumpy as per usual. I rolled my eyes at the sight of his seemingly permanent frown.

Marcus gave him a slight nudge and then he reluctantly raised a hand to wave to the stands and the crowd went wild. It was only when he turned around, that I saw. Thomas was number 8. Of course Thomas was number 8.

His hair was peeking out from underneath his helmet and i could make out the shape of his strong muscles even underneath his jersey.

He was breathtaking.

Then Marcus turned around and his jersey said... '5'?

I looked at Mable at the same time that she turned her head to look at me.

"Maybe he has the wrong jersey on?" Mable offered.

I narrowed my eyes onto the rink and my eyes caught on Simon.

Sure enough, his jersey said '11' on it. Fucker.

"That's so weird why would he do that?" Mable asked.

"I'm guessing to piss Marcus off." I said.

"I don't think Marcus cares." Mable scoffed.

"Sure, because inviting you and your friend to his hockey game, buying our tickets and reserving the best seats in the house for us doesn't scream obsessed with you." I rolled my eyes.

"You're one to talk." She folded her arms across her chest.

"What?" I asked, genuinely confused.

It was Mable's turn to roll her eyes. "Thomas?" She said, side-eyeing me.

As she said this, Marcus and Thomas turned around, scanning the crowd for something and their eyes instantly caught on us.

Thomas smiled (the first smile of this game so far despite the army of people calling his name) as his eyes landed on mine and then his eyes slid lower to the massive '11' on my chest. His smile vanished and I sunk lower into my seat, wanting to disappear.

Did he think that I was supporting Simon? Did I care if he thought that?

Thomas tapped Marcus and he turned to us. His smile immediately dropped as well.

They looked at each other, looked at us again and then looked at Simon.

Mable and I looked at each other, then at Marcus and Thomas and then at Simon who was grinning wildly, watching this unfold.

His eyes were particularly trained on Thomas, seeming to enjoy his anger that was now obviously flowing in Simon's direction.

And then his smile dropped when he saw the look in Thomas and Marcus' eyes.

They skated past him and went straight for the stands, to the door closest to us.

A murmur of confusion rippled through the crowd.

The coach on the sidelines started shouting at them but they simply ignored him.

"Are they...?" Mable started.

"They're probably just saying hi to fans." I said, though there was no backing to it.

"They're walking over here." She whisper-shouted. "On skates."

"Impressive."

"Val!"

"Doesn't mean they're coming to us."

"They're in front of us!" She was still whisper-shouting and I'm 99 percent sure that with the amused look on Thomas and Marcus' faces that they heard us.

"Hi Thomas." I said nervously.

"Hi Valerie." He said softly.

"I'm sorry Marcus, Simon said this was your number." Mable mumbled, chewing on her lip.

"Did he?" Marcus said as he and Thomas both turned to glare at Simon.

I nod for confirmation.

"Okay, take those off." Thomas said matter-of-factly.

I blinked. Then blinked again. "What?"

"Your jerseys." Marcus confirmed. "You should take those off."

"We don't want you wearing the number of that douche bag." Thomas said.

"We aren't wearing any blue though." I said.

"That keen to show your support for me?" Thomas smirked, cocking his head to the side.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Support for the school." I clarified which just made him smirk more.

God did I want to wipe that smirk off of his annoyingly handsome face-

My thoughts were interrupted by Thomas looking at Marcus before they both gave a small nod and then they were pulling off their jerseys.

"What are you doing?!" Mable spluttered.

"What does it look like? We're giving you our jerseys." Marcus answered.

"Your jerseys?!" I exclaimed. Pretty much the whole rink was watching in awe at these two idiots pausing a whole hockey game just because they didn't want us wearing Simon's number.

"If you wear a number, Valerie, it's going to be mine." Thomas replied coolly.

I was rendered speechless so Mable and I took the jerseys from them wordlessly and Mable slipped it over her head.

Thomas looked at me as I was obviously not putting the jersey on before saying, "Always have to be so difficult."

And before I knew what was happening, he took the jersey from my hands and he slipped it over my head and pulled my arms through like I was a fucking toddler. I glared at him, with what I hoped was a withering stare but this just made him grin harder. Then he pulled my hair through, his fingers brushing my neck in the process and I sucked in a sharp breath.

I tried to mask it but by the cocky look on his face, he noticed.

Fuck my life.

"What will you guys wear?" Mable asked.

"We'll be fine." Marcus said with a grin.

"Priorities." I muttered.

"Exactly right, Valerie." Thomas replied with a smirk, shocking me that he had heard. "Now wish me luck."

I rolled my eyes and said, "Never."

Thomas considered this before saying, "You're right. You just being here brings me luck."

Before I could think about what that meant, they were already back on the rink and skating to their positions.

———

The entire game, Thomas' eyes kept on searching for mine, and smiling at me like a fool.

It was really getting out of hand, people were starting to notice and a couple of girls were giving me death glares.

What was more infuriating was that he was clearly distracted but still managed to play amazingly and I may not know anything about hockey but it doesn't take a hockey genius to realise that he's amazing.

And so they won, because of course they did.

And when they did, everyone was cheering Thomas' name, including me. And his eyes were only on me.

Mable and I were heading to the subway after the game when two familiar forms came jogging up to us.

"Guess who got captain?!" Marcus shouted from behind, causing me to jump.

Mable noticed and held my arm to steady me and I gave her a grateful smile in return.

Once I had recovered, I straightened and she let go as we both turned to Marcus and Thomas.

Thomas was giving me a funny look.

"Who?" I asked, smiling.

"Thomas!" He said, clapping Thomas on the shoulder.

"Congrats!" Mable said, beaming and I was smiling too.

"We should celebrate." I surprised myself by saying.

An unreadable expression passed over Thomas' face as he looked at me. Something like... hope?

"We should." He said, grinning.

———