Page 20 of Hit Me With Your Best Shot

G: Once when we were teenagers, she hid under my bed for an hour while I was reading. And then when I shut off my light, she scared the shit out of me.

Austin: Did you scream?

G: Like a damn banshee.

Austin: So—like a girl?

G: Totally.

Austin: I’m dying. That’s incredible. Did she at least feel bad afterward?

G: Nope. She laughed so hard she fell and hit her head on my nightstand.

Austin: Karma.

G: You’d think so. But then she blamed me for it and got out of trouble.

Austin: I want to be her when I grow up.

G: You’re uninvited from sibling stories now.

Austin: Fair. But for real, thanks again for the ticket—please tell her I appreciate it. I feel like I owe you a favor.

G: You don’t owe me anything. Just enjoy the game.

Austin: That’s too easy. There’s gotta be something I can do to repay you.

G: You already promised to make a glitter sign, remember???

Austin: I’m serious, though.

G: So am I. The glitter sign will be legendary. If I were a player, I’d skate right up to it and kiss the glass to show my appreciation.

Austin: You’d kiss the glass? What if I made a sign that said, “STOP PUCKS + STOP BREAKING MY HEART” or something equally dramatic?

G: If you actually did that, I would find you and kiss you on the lips.

Austin: STOP! I’m blushing. Seriously.

G: If you’re going to go that hard with a sign like that, it deserves a proper thank you.

Austin: Well it’s too bad you won’t be there.

5

austin

Holy.

Crap.

These seats. Are. Ah-mazing.

Armed with a sign that saysBETTER LUCK THIS TIME, GIO—and one of my best friends, Dolly—the arena is buzzing.

“These seats,” I say, sinking into the plush cushion of my chair, “are the most incredible thing to ever happen to me.”

Dolly rolls her eyes, her lips curling into a smirk as she unwraps a pretzel. “I mean, other than me, obviously.”

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