Chapter 4 Miss Monday
Claire
“Finally,” Andi grits out as I approach the front of the arena.
“You know you could’ve gone in without me,” I say, wrapping her in a hug.
Pulling away, I take in what she’s wearing.
Her blonde hair is curled, and a white beanie, covered with snow, is pulled over her ears.
A red hockey jersey peeks out from under her thick black coat.
She’s styled it with black leather leggings and trendy sneakers.
“You wore a Crowns jersey? You know Raph plays for the Rats.”
“Precisely why I wore red.” She smirks and looks down at her outfit. “I do like that jacket though. Where did you get it?”
“It was a gift. Raph said he wanted to see me in his number, so he had it made for me. It’s cute but not very warm.” A shiver runs down my spine as the wind rips through me and the snow tickles my cheeks.
“Okay, tell me your news,” she says as we begin to walk toward the front of the arena.
“Marie, the girl who I was understudying for, hurt her ankle, and that means that I’ll be performing as the cast A Sugar Plum Fairy!”
“You’re kidding?” she asks, stopping and grabbing my arm.
“Nope, and that’s not even the best part. I get to dance it in the Christmas show.”
Andi’s eyes fill with tears, and she wraps me in a hug. “This is so fucking cool. You’re going to kill it.”
“Thanks. I feel bad that she’s hurt, but I’m really excited. Dimitri said if it goes well then another big role might be in my future.”
“Do Mom and Dad know?”
“Yep.” I nod. “I called them the minute I left his office. They’re going to come to the city for Christmas and see the show. I thought we could all spend it together here.”
“I love that idea.” She hugs me again, and we continue to move toward the long security line that’s formed outside the arena’s doors.
“Is this new boyfriend of yours going to join us for Christmas?”
“I’m not sure. I haven’t talked to him yet with the game being tonight. Mom was all over me about meeting him.”
“Well you’re his girlfriend, right? So, I’m sure he’ll be just as excited as we are.”
“Yeah,” I mutter, causing her to glance at me sharply.
“Shouldn’t he be able to get us in through a special entrance?” Andi asks, pushing herself up on her toes, trying to get a better view of how long the line actually is.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean he got us the tickets, and the other WAGS aren’t coming through the general admission doors.” Andi crosses her arms over her chest as we get into the security line behind two men wearing gold Crowns on their heads.
“It’s fine. We’re not exclusive, exclusive. I don’t think I’m technically considered a WAG yet. Plus I’m excited to sit with you close to the ice.” My heart rate starts to quicken as I attempt to explain myself, but the look on my sister’s face says everything I wish it didn’t.
“You’re not exclusive, exclusive? What the fuck does that even mean?”
I shrug. “I just meant we’re just seeing where things go. He just got out of a relationship, so we are taking it easy. We’re both in really busy seasons of our lives.”
She inhales deeply as we step forward. “Are you sure he’s only sleeping with you?”
My stomach sinks. “I mean, we’ve talked about it, and he said that he…well he said that I’m his special girl…”
“Oh, my god, Claire! His special girl? What the fuck does that mean?” She throws her hands into the air as she talks. “How many special girls does he have? Am I talking to Miss Tuesday?”
“Miss Tuesday?”
“I’m sorry, today is Monday. Are you Monday’s special girl? Should I call you Miss Monday? My mistake.”
“That’s not what he meant.”
“You don’t know that!” she says. “God, he has a reputation. Do you think Miss Friday and Miss Wednesday have dark hair too, or do you think they’re blonde?”
“You’re hilarious.”
“I mean no judgment if you want to fuck him, but he’s the Rats’ star player and has a reputation of being a total dick. Wasn’t he dating that model for a little while. Gah, what was her name? Monica or something?”
“He’s not really like that off the ice, and yes he was dating Monica Meyer, but they broke up.”
“Well he’s making you walk through the general admission line, so I’m not so sure he’s not a total asshole, but I’ve never met him.”
My stomach turns at her words.
“I don’t know,” I try. “I actually met one of the other players’ girlfriends the other night—Lily. She’s dating the goalie.”
“That’s promising, I guess.”
“What do you mean?”
“Just that you’re meeting his friends is a good thing, so maybe I’m wrong.”
The uneasy feeling in my stomach worsens as I think back to the night I met Lily.
“What’s that look?” my sister questions.
“Nothing.”
“What happened with this Lily girl?”
“Nothing. She said I could text her and she’d get me back after the game, so I’ll get to be with all the WAGS then. I actually really like her, and we’ve been texting on and off since we met. Feels like maybe we could be friends.”
“Don’t you dare lie to me,” she warns.
“I’m not.”
“Are too. Claire Elise Silverman, tell me what happened before I make a scene.” She crosses her arms, scowling at me dramatically like she’s our mother and not my little sister.
“Fine. Raph and I were at dinner the other night and they walked into the same restaurant. I don’t know, the whole interaction was weird, and then Lily insisted they join us at our table, and Raph got super uncomfortable.”
“How so?”
“I don’t know how to explain it, but they ended up joining us anyway, and she seemed really nice. I think he was just upset they interrupted. We don’t get to spend a lot of time together with our schedules.”
Her brow raises as she looks at me with judgy eyes.
“What?”
She shrugs.
“No, tell me what you’re thinking.”
“You know I just want what’s best for you. You deserve someone who doesn’t get weird about you meeting his friends and will treat you like a goddamn queen.”
A fan ahead of us wearing a rat head stumbles backwards, bumping into Andi and stepping on her foot.
“For fuck’s sake,” she says, shoving him off of her.
“And you don’t think he treats me like that?”
“No. Queens don’t have to walk into stadiums with hundreds of drunk fans. They get special treatment. You’re the fucking Sugar Plum Fairy for Christ’s sake!” Her voice rises as she talks, and the man wearing the rat head looks over his shoulder.
So much for not causing a scene.
“Can you lower your voice? People are staring.”
“I’m not wrong, and you know it.” She looks down at her phone, and a smile breaks across her face.
“You’re one to talk. Is that Isaac?”
“It is. He wants me to come over after the game.”
I shake my head and laugh. “Goodness, we’re a mess.”
“No. You’re a mess. I’m fully aware that Isaac and I are a bad idea.”
“Please come this way,” a security attendant says, moving the retractable belt barrier so that the line begins to move in a different direction with us in the front. We follow him toward a metal detector.
“Place your bag on the table and step through with your hands up,” he shouts, motioning Andi and me forward. We quickly move through the security checkpoint and collect our belongings.
Scanning our tickets, we walk through the doors of Madison Square Garden.
The electric energy hits us as soon as we walk into the arena.
Loud music and shouts from the rowdy crowd carry throughout the expansive space and drown out the thoughts spinning around my head.
There is a noticeable chill in the air, but compared to the temperature outside, it’s comfortable, and I can feel my hands beginning to defrost.
Near the doors, workers are set up next to two life-sized cutouts of two Crowns players. The man on the right I don’t recognize, but the one on the left is Everett.
“Fuck, even the cardboard version of him is hot,” Andi says, running up to the cutout and posing next to it for a selfie. “Maybe you should ditch the rat and give him a chance.” She gestures toward the cutout with her thumb and then begins typing on her phone.
“Okay, for one, I told you I’m with Raph. For two, I barely have time to sleep with one guy let alone two, and for three, for all I know Everett’s married with a baby. It’s not like I keep tabs on him.”
Except I do, and according to his socials and the news, he’s definitely not married with a baby.
“Oh, no…” She laughs. “I meant the cardboard cutout, not the real person, but I’m glad to know you’re wondering if Everett is single.”
“You’re lucky that we’re blood, or I would kill you.”
“Trading cards?” one of the workers asks, interrupting us.
“Oh, um,” I stammer, taking in her appearance and name.
Her pink hair is styled in two french braids, and a name tag that reads Stella is pinned to her shirt, causing me to freeze.
Star tattoos trail up her right arm and disappear under the sleeve of her work-issued polo.
Around her neck is a gold chain holding a moon-shaped pink crystal.
“No, thank you. We’re cheering on the Rats tonight. ”
“Come on.” Stella smiles, holding out a silver packet of cards. “You’re in luck. There’s only one set left. Looks like it was meant to be.” The skin around her eyes creases, despite her young age, and her violet eyes seem to sparkle as she looks at me, daring me to take the card pack.
Reaching my hand out, I take it from her at the same time a group of obnoxious Rats fans barrel in chanting something.
One of the men, not paying attention, pushes me into the Everett cutout, causing it to topple over and my purse to fly out of my hand.
Lipstick, my wallet, my phone, a bottle of ibuprofen, and my keys spread across the floor.
“Shit,” he yells, stumbling past us without stopping and kicking my keys further away.
“What a dick! Are you alright?” Andi asks, assessing me for any sign that he may have hurt me, but he didn’t.