Page 223 of Loving Ladybug: Part One
“Ty, do you think the Boaters were watching?” someone asked.
“If they were, I hope they remember I was up against Grif Graf,” he laughed.
“Can we talk about the pink gear, Gwen? It seems like an unusual choice,” a reporter asked curiously. “Honestly, if pink gear means shutouts, then maybe everyone should wear it.” He chuckled. “Does it have to do with them calling you,Ladybug?”
“JP gave me the nickname when I first started. Because I’m a lady EBUG,” I snorted.
Everyone laughed. Yep, hockey players and their nicknames.
“As for the pink gear…” I had an answer. A partially true one. “My mom died of OOC when I was a teenager. She–and my Nonna–were my biggest fans and I miss both of them every day.” My eyes teared. “I wish both of them were here to see this. I wear pink for my mom, and all the other moms and dads out there with OOC, and for all the kids who will never get to see their parents in the crowd at another game.” I wiped my eyes with my hand.
Maybe I should start wearing pink again, at least sometimes.
“Shit, Gweny,” Ty whispered. “Um, hi moms and dads. See, it was absolutely worth years and years of being hockey parents.” He waved at the cameras.
“Were you two nervous? How do you combat nerves when you’re out there?” someone asked us.
“Keep calm and think of tacos,” I blurted.
“Tacos?” the reporter blinked.
I turned to Ty. “Double D says we get a taco for every puck we stopped.”
Ty lit up. “We do? I could use some tacos right now. I’m starving.”
“We’re students, bribe us with food,” I laughed as a few reporters nodded and muttered about recalling those days.
“Are you single, Ty?” someone asked.
“I’m very taken,” Ty laughed. “Hi, Damien, I love you.”
“Gwen, who are you wearing? It’s quite flashy for hockey. You look like you stole it from a skate smasher’s closet,” a fashionably dressed reporter smirked, probably from the style beat.
Well, that was spiteful. Also correct.
I looked down. “I did. Have No Mercy’s closet in fact. It was this or the hoodie I wore to the game, since I came straight from my university hockey practice. I never expected to play tonight, so I wasn’t fully prepared. I was just here to watch their home opener. So, who wears it better? Me or Mercy? Wait, I don’t want to know.” I laughed and did a little spin.
They asked Ty a bunch of questions, but then he was the alpha male who’d been drafted.
“I love the Knights, but I’m a Wolves fan, hometown pride and all,” he replied, “and the Boaters, of course. Gwen’s the hardcore Knights fan.”
“My nonna and her neighbors brought me to my first Knights’ game when I was three. I got to go down to the glass and see warm-ups and sit on my neighbor’s shoulders and Callahan gave me a puck. That was when I was told goalies were the best.” I grinned. “I might have a Maria Barilla card on my wall, too.”
The reporters got back on topic, talking about some of the plays.
“I think it’s time to let them go. After all, it’s a school night,” Kylee finally laughed, and escorted us away.
“You were two.” Maria stood there with Gio, pride on her face. “You were two when you sat on Gio’s shoulders and Callahan gave you a puck, then grabbed you and flew you around the ice like an airplane.”
I sucked in a breath. “I forgot that part. Wait, I did the shutout shootout once, didn’t I?”
She thought for a moment. “At least once. You caught a fuzzy blanket that lived in your treehouse for years.”
“I did, and the mascot gave me a toy.” What had happened to my treehouse and everything in it after Nonna died? Was it in the boxes with everything from my room there?
“Good job, Buttons. Someone brought the sauce tonight.” Gio pulled me in for a hug.
I looked at him and Mia. “I learned from the best.”
