It’s been for the best.
I should leave it that way.
It’s not my business where she is.
I shake my head.
Push the thought from my mind.
Or at least I try.
Apparently I don’t try hard enough though.
Because the second I open my eyes the following morning, the thought is back.
And I don’t even make it five minutes past the time that Golden Rollers opens before I’m grabbing my keys and heading that way.
I can’t explain it, but I just need to lay eyes on her. Something in me is telling me that.
What could it hurt?
I probably don’t want to think too hard about the answer to that.
I push through the front doors and don’t find her working the ticket booth.
So I buy a ticket to get in.
She’s not working the skate rental counter either.
Or the DJ booth.
And neither of her parents are anywhere to be found.
I figure they may be in the back somewhere. Or maybe running errands.
Regardless, it couldn’t hurt to get some skating in.
So I do.
And one hour turns into two.
Then I find myself eating a mediocre burger from the snack shack.
There’s still no sign of her.
I end up back on the skate floor. Skate so long that the playlist of songs starts repeating itself, and I’m convinced a shift change would have happened by now.
I’m a professional hockey player.
What the hell am I doing?
I step out of the rink. Move to a bench. Unlace my skates. Put my shoes back on. Then pause.
I know I should just go home. Give it a rest.
But something deep in my gut won’t let me.
I take my phone out of my pocket. Scroll to the contact I’ve pulled up hundreds of times. Press the button to call her.