Page 7 of The Hat Trick

The announcers have also said something about “icing” and “offside” which I have yet to fully understand what those mean. But Denver is winning 2-0, and I know both teams are trying to get the puck into the net so I feel like I can follow pretty easily.

It’s almost the end of the second period and the other team hit one of Denver’s guys so hard he falls, and then all hell breaks loose. Number thirty-one from Denver throws off his gloves and goes after the player that made the hit, and they start fighting. Punches are flying, both the helmets come off. The referees try to break it up, but eventually let them keep going until it slows down and they are able to pull them apart.

Thirty-one, McQuaid, pushes off the ref and skates away, clearly still angry. He pushes his dark, sweat slicked hair away from his face while he’s clearly still talking.

“Who isthat?”Audrey leans closer to the TV to get a better look.

I look him up, something we’ve been doing for most of the players for fun. And for the important details.

“Matt McQuaid, he’s a forward, twenty-seven years old and six-foot-three.”

“He’s hot.”

I look through pictures of him that come up, and he really is. Dark brown eyes, dark brown hair. He seems to have a permanent smirk on his face that makes it clear he’s trouble. There’s also a ton of videos that pop up of fights he’s been in.

“He also seems like the biggest hot head on the team. He gets in a ton of fights,” I tell her.

We continue to watch, and learn about a couple more penalties, goalie interference and cross checking. Though, I don’t quite understand cross checking since they are always hitting each other, and it’s allowed.

Denver wins the game, and they all line up to hug the goalie at the end. It was a home game, so it looks like the whole arena lights up with excitement.

“See, hockey is great,” I announce.

“Yeah, I like all the hot men skating around.” Audrey wiggles her eyebrows.

“Me too, especially Vince. I hope we will have a decent view tomorrow.”

* * *

We havea little bit better than just a decent view.

“You’re joking,” Audrey says as we make our way to where the pass says our seats are.

Section one. Row A. Seats one and two.

We are as close to the glass as possible, right by where the players come out and behind their bench.

“Damn, your boyfriend hooked it up,” she squeals once we finally reach our seats.

“You know he’s not actually my boyfriend, right?” I clarify because she’s been saying that ever since yesterday, and I’m starting to believe she thinks that was serious.

“Can he be? Because I could get used to this.”

I laugh, I don’t want to burst her bubble because I doubt Vince Dumont has any interest in becoming my boyfriend. I also didn’t tell her about the short text exchange we had earlier because I know she would read too much into it.

Chandler: Good luck today.

Vince: Thanks. I hope I’ll see you there.

Chandler: I’m keeping it a surprise.

Vince: I love surprises.

It’s about thirty minutes before the game is supposed to start, and suddenly there’s an announcement about the players coming out. Audrey and I look at each other confused while the guys run out onto the ice. My eyes lock on forty-seven when he comes flying out. They pushed a pile of pucks onto the ice, and all start skating around, hitting the round discs into the net.

I watch, intrigued and confused as they all continue to skate around half the arena, and the other team skates around the other half. Then, some of the guys start to do stretches on the ice, and my jaw drops. Some of them look like they are straight humping the ground.

“What is happening?” I whisper yell to my friend.

---