Page 59 of Breakaway Heart
“Not telling. Are you coming?”
“I have to miss the start. It’s a Drool thing, but I’ll be there.”
“Han?”
“Yes?”
“That guy’s rear-end is getting a little too close for my liking.”
After we laughed and Hannah hung up, I sat for a moment, contemplating what might be next. Why couldn’t it ever be simple?
25
GAME DAY
I arrived regretfully overdressed for the game. Wearing Randy’s shirt would’ve looked ridiculous, like a kitten in a sweatshirt, and then I’d gotten flustered in jeans and a t-shirt because I definitely did not feel hot enough. With time running out, I’d hastily thrown on a date outfit. A cute open-cut midnight blue dress that showed off my legs and made my ass sing, along with matching heels.
Now, I wished I was wearing anything else as I wobbled through the bustling crowd of hockey heads holding plastic beer cups to the box office.
The tickets were waiting like Randy had said they would be, and having left one behind for Hannah, I made my way up the stairs to find my seat and to get off my feet as soon as humanly possible.
It felt odd that I hadn’t spoken to Randy that day, but he’d already warned me that the players weren’t allowed any distractions on game day. I’d wanted to know how he felt about the leaked photographs, the news coverage, if Georgiawouldbe there, and, more selfishly, if he liked the dress I was in.
“Oh, you’re here!” I was greeted by a welcoming smile as I found my seat.
“Hi. Kensy, isn’t it?” I smiled back.
“That’s right! Nice dress, by the way. And this is Sarah and Maiden.”
“Of course, I remember. And who’s this?” I asked the boy, pointing at his plush turtle.
“Pascal! He’s five!”
“Well, hi there, Pascal,” I said to the ragged-looking soft toy.
“Is the seltzer girl not coming?” Kensy asked.
“Hannah? She’s running a little late, because of… Um… A doctor’s appointment.”
“Oh no! Is she okay?”
“Yeah, it’s nothing serious.” I had to stop myself smiling at the double meaning.
“And how’s it going with Randy? I mean, that whole thing today.”
“Well…”
Before I could answer, we were plunged into darkness as if all the power in the arena had been pulled. The crowd murmured in hushed voices to each other in the dark, the anticipation bristling with excitement. A siren screamed out from the rafters, and a spotlight flashed into life on the ice. A few seconds later and the opening bars to “Hells Bells” came belting into the arena, and the Ice-Hawks came out through the tunnel to a swell of sound.
A wild cheer greeted every name read out by the announcer. I found myself feeling exhilarated as I joined in with the whooping, thinking how therapeutic it was to be able to just stand up and shout and holler your lungs out. There were some things about sports that gave so much more than you could ever get from watching on television.
Hockey in Merryville might have been a big deal. But tonight was one of the biggest. You could feel the tight tension in the air, a collective feeling that spread through the wave of supporters from the bad blood between the two teams.
Merryville had knocked the Wranglers out of the playoffs last year in game seven. Both teams had been trading insults since game one, and that final game had boiled over into a bench clearance following Hudson’s goal to put Merryville three up.
They might have won that night, but it left the Ice-Hawks without key members of their starting line-up for the next round through suspensions, and they duly went out in four games with barely a whimper. Tonight wasn’t just about points. It was about making a point, and it was about revenge, for both of them.
Of course, Randy had been one of those involved. He’d been forced to sit out the next game for unsportsmanlike misconduct, and the loudest round of boos from the away supporters were reserved just for him as he came out onto the ice.
