Page 85 of Ice Mechanic

Bobby nods as if he needed the confirmation. “I think right around here is good. Not too close, not too far.”

He gestures to seats that I know for a fact werenotempty because when I tried to purchase tickets two days ago, only three spots were left in the entire stadium.

Rebel and I plop in.

The differences between our former seats and these upgraded seats remind me of the time I bought a super expensive, high-resolution scanner. It’s a mix of wide-eyed awe and a dash of‘I can’t believe I lived my entire life without seeing these details? Is THIS how the graph of the TPS waveform is supposed to look?’

There’s a flurry of movement on the ice. Tall players skate past wearing fancy hockey uniforms. Excitement is a thick cloud in the air and it’s extra intense this close to the action. I cantotally understand why these seats are considered the best. Right now, it’s as if I’monthe ice with the players.

“Do you ladies need anything to eat or drink?” Bobby asks.

I shake my head, feeling self-conscious. “I’m sure you have better things to do than get food and drinks for us, Bobby.”

“That might be true, April but,” Bobby leans in to speak conspiratorially, “Chance lost his mind when he saw you tonight. If Max and I didn’t scramble to your aid, he would have jumped over the boards and run to you himself.”

I glance at Rebel. “The boards?”

“You see those?” She points at the tall, transparent panes separating us from the ice.

Whoa. There’s no way Chance could have scaled something that tall… right?

“Unfortunately, Chance can’t run into the stands when the game’s about to start. You understand, right?” Bobby scans my face as if one hint of dissatisfaction from me will result in Chance beating him up.

My heart coughs like an engine with faulty wires. “Y-yes.”

“Great. So drinks?”

“No, we’re good.” I swallow hard.

Bobby flashes one more, friendly smile and runs off.

“Chance is really playing up his ‘role’ tonight,” Rebel says, her lips pursed.

“Isn’t it clear from last night that we’rebothacting?” I rub my hands over my shoulders, kick my feet and blow on my palms to give them warmth.

“It’s just so hypocritical.”

“I’m doing the same thing. So technically, if he’s a hypocrite, so am I.”

With a shrug, she admits, “You’re right, but I just want to hate him in peace. This has nothing to do with being rational.”

That makes me smile.

Just then, I catch Chance looking at me.

Immediately, my grin falls flat and I dart my gaze away.

“Uh, I’m freezing,” I mumble. My teeth are chattering so loudly it sounds like a badger whittling a stick.

Rebel smacks her forehead. “I forgot your jacket in the car. Hold on a sec, I’ll be right back.”

“Do you want to share my blanket?” a girlish voice asks before my best friend can dart away.

I look to my right and notice a little girl, no older than six or seven, sitting two seats down. She has dark hair, twin dimples and chipmunk cheeks. The little darling is wearing leggings under a tutu along with a varsity jacket. Her funky outfit instantly gains my approval.

She pokes her head forward, entrancing me with warm brown eyes. “You can borrow it if you want.”

“Oh, sweetie. It’s okay. My friend will get my jacket for me.”

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