Page 3 of Magnetic God

“You have the e-tickets on your phone, right?”

Matt checks and nods. “Yup.”

“Good. See you in there.”

They do some kind of bro-handshake that makes me snort. Jess shoots me a look of thanks as Peter and I exit the food line.

Peter leads the way to the section where our seats are, and we enter the main part of the arena. I wasn’t kidding when I said someone might try to sit in our chairs. The show starts in ten minutes, and most everyone is already in their spots.

Peter speaks to an attendant, showing her his phone. She nods and points.

“This way, Han.”

I follow him down the stairs, to the floor level, right to the front row.

“Front row. I’m impressed.”

And I really am. I know these seats cost a lot of money.

Peter says, “My boss gave them to me for being such an outstanding employee. Didn’t cost me a thing.”

Okay, that makes more sense since Peter is super cheap and has the same struggle as me, living on a college student’s budget. I’m sure these seats cost two-hundred dollars each. Maybe even more. Our seats are right in the middle of the row and people have to stand so we can get to them.

In front of us is the black barricade and beyond that is the wrestling ring.

I say, “This is pretty cool.”

“Agreed.” He throws his arm over the back of my seat, glaring at a man who was looking our way. “This was a good idea, by the way. Securing our seats.”

I bite back a grin and nod. Looks like my plan worked just the way I wanted.

Peter and I make idle chitchat until Jess and Matt walk up, carrying a drink in each hand.

Jess says, “Hannah, you’re going to be happy.”

“Why?”

“They have a ton of t-shirts at the merchandise table.” Her eyes dance with mischievousness.

I laugh. “Pass. I wouldn’t even know whose shirt to buy anymore.”

Matt takes his seat, reaching around me to hand Peter a beer, and says, “That’s easy. There’s the Bishop Brothers or Laughing Larry.”

Somehow, we ended up sitting like we’re coupled up. Peter, me, Matt, and Jess. Jess catches my gaze, grinning. Well, at least someone is happy with the seating arrangement. I would much rather be sitting next to my bestie, but whatever.

Peter chimes in, “Those are all the good guys. The heels are where it’s at.”

“Heels?” Jess asks.

“The bad guys,” we all answer at the same time.

I hate that I even remember that much.

Peter says, “The biggest heel is Brooks the Body McGruff. He’s on his way to be the next main eventer.”

“Never heard of him,” I say.

Peter sighs, like I just said I didn’t know who the President was.

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