Chapter 7 WAGS Only
Claire
“What a game,” Andi says as we climb the stairs. “Seriously, I didn’t think the Crowns were going to pull it off, but that final goal by your man…” She squeals with excitement. “Holy shit! What a shot! And then that fight between Everett and Raph…absolutely insane.”
“Raph didn’t score,” I mumble.
“Ugh. You can’t be serious right now.” She shakes her head. “Don’t tell me you’re still considering him your man. He acted like a complete lunatic tonight.”
My stomach turns as I think back over the game.
Multiple dirty hits, and then instigating a final fight that got him ejected and every player on the ice put in the box.
He was a total ass tonight, and part of me knows it had to do with me.
I hope I’m wrong, but something deep in my gut tells me I’m not.
“You want to share a cab?” Andi asks when we get to the top of the stairs.
“Oh, um, no. I’m going to text Lily and go meet up with her while I wait on Raph.”
My sister rolls her eyes. “Are you serious right now?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want me to hang back with you?” she asks, reluctantly.
“No, I’ll be fine. I’ll call you tomorrow. Go see Isaac.”
“How do you know that’s where I’m going?”
“Oh, are you not going to get railed by the hot baseball player?”
“No, I am.” She scrunches her nose before wrapping me in a hug. “Don’t judge me. I love you.”
“Never. I love you too.”
I watch until she disappears into a crowd toward the front of the arena.
Pulling out my phone, I find Lily’s contact and then make my way to meet up with her and the other girls.
“Claire!” Lily calls as I get to the entrance where all of the other women are waiting for the players. She is wearing baggy denim jeans, a tight white shirt, and a black leather bomber jacket. A Rat Kings trucker hat sits on top of her perfectly styled red waves.
A large security guard blocks the entrance, looking me up and down as I approach.
“Don’t worry,” she says with the confidence of a player’s wife and not of a woman who has been dating the Rats’ goalie for a few months. “She’s one of us.”
He nods and moves so I can pass by.
She wraps me in a hug. “I wish you had been with us during the game. Some of these women are total bitches,” she whispers, giggling. “It would’ve been so nice to have another newbie with me.”
I glance around the room and notice a group of women standing off to the side. The energy in the room is strange, and other than Lily, I don’t feel welcome or that I belong.
Each of them is stunning, and they all look me up and down, making assumptions without even saying hello. I shift my purse higher on my arm, straightening my shoulders. Fidgeting with the jacket, I notice that no one here is wearing a jersey, so it’s hard to tell which player they’re with.
“Do you know how long the guys will be?” I ask.
“Who knows.” Lily shrugs. “Could be an hour or longer. Come on; I’ll introduce you.” She grabs my hand and leads me to where the other women stand.
“Ladies, this is Claire,” she begins, interrupting their conversation.
Their eyes shift to me, but no one makes an attempt to introduce themselves. Their stares feed all my deepest, darkest insecurities, and I’m pretty sure they could make even the most confident person feel small.
“Only wives and girlfriends of the team are supposed to be back here,” a tall brunette says, turning towards Lily.
“Oh, she is. She’s just new and doesn’t get to make many games. Isn’t that right, babe?” Lily chimes, nudging me with her elbow.
“Yeah, this is my first game this season,” I say. “I’m a dancer for the City Ballet, and it keeps me really busy.”
“And who do you belong to then,” a blonde asks. Her eyes dart down to my jacket and then back up to my face.
“Um, well I don’t belong to anyone,” I say, my stomach turning at her words as I respond. “But I’ve been dating Raph Ulrich for a little over three months now.”
“That’s impossible,” a woman with long blonde curls says, stepping forward. My mouth falls open as I take in who is standing before me—Monica Meyer. Raph’s ex.
What in the hell is she doing here?
“What do you mean?” I ask, confused.
“Well, Raph and I have been together for almost a year,” she says. “So, you must be lying.” Her tone is sharp, and my heart sinks into my stomach.
“I’m not lying,” I say, gesturing toward my coat. “Raph and I are dating.”
“Impossible,” she snaps.
“Security!” another woman calls. “This woman shouldn’t be back here.”
My eyes find Lily, but she’s gone silent.
“Wait, I’m confused. I can prove that we’re dating,” I try again, pulling out my phone and swiping to a photo of me with him. The woman looks at it unphased, and so I bring up our text message chain and attempt to show them our texts, but there’s no reaction from any of them.
“Maybe you should go, Claire,” Lily says, moving to join the group. Monica locks arms with her and throws me a wicked grin.
Oh, my god. Everything makes sense at once. The tickets he gave me, the general admission line, his reaction the other day when Lily showed up at the restaurant. His hesitation for me to come to a game, and his disinterest in meeting my family and friends. How little we actually see each other.
Andi was right. I’m just Miss Monday, and this woman in front of me is Miss Tuesday through Sunday.
Lily’s kindness was a ruse to out me as the other fucking woman. They played me.
“Do you have something to say for yourself?” Lily asks. I look up, and all of the women in the room are sending daggers through me.
“I…I thought we were friends?”
“No, babe. I’m not friends with puck bunny whores.” The other women snicker under their breath, and blush crawls up my neck.
“I’m so sorry,” I stammer. “I really had no idea. He told me you broke up. If I had known I wouldn’t have—”
“Wouldn’t have what?” Monica asks. “Slept with my boyfriend?”
“Pathetic,” one of the other women scoffs.
My heart rails against my ribcage, and the room begins to spin. Holding back tears, I flee, taking off my jacket and dropping it to the floor. I’m suddenly overcome with nausea. I don’t know how I could have been so naive. How I didn’t see all the signs as clearly as I can see them now.
Moving down a hall, I turn a corner and find a bathroom. Tears stream down my face. How did today go from all of my dreams coming true to this big of a shit show? Fumbling for my phone, I try my sister, but there’s no answer. I try her again, but nothing.
Checking her location, I see she’s at Isaac’s apartment, so she’s not going to be checking her phone for a while.
Staring at my reflection, my stomach rolls, and I put my phone back in my purse. Turning on the sink, I splash water on my face, attempting to clean off the mascara running down my cheeks and slow my breathing.
A flash of pink enters my periphery, catching my attention. I shift my gaze away from the mirror, finding a custodian with a short pink pixie cut beginning to clean the bathroom.
“It’s late,” she says.
“Oh, I know. Sorry. I’m on my way out.” Reaching for a paper towel, I pat my face dry with the rough material and then walk it toward a trash can near where she stands.
She smiles, and her plum colored eyes make my breath catch.
“You okay?” she asks.
“Oh, yeah, I’ll be fine.”
“You strike me as someone who will,” she muses, digging in her cleaning cart.
“What makes you say that?” I ask, tears welling in my eyes again because I’m not sure I will be.
It dawns on me that I’m not sad that Raph and I are over—even if he doesn’t know it yet.
I don’t think I can get over the mortification of finding out the way I did.
How, once again, I trusted someone who I thought could maybe be my friend and she let me down.
And I don’t know how I’m going to relive what happened when I inevitably have to talk to him to end things once and for all.
I wish I had just gone home after rehearsal. I wish I hadn’t texted Lily. I wish I could find someone who wasn’t a total douchebag and friends who didn’t turn out to be bitches.
“I can just tell. Whatever happened, it’ll work out.” She smiles, and the skin surrounding her eyes crinkles just like the other pink-haired ladies I’ve met tonight.
“What’s your name?” I blurt out.
“Excuse me?”
“Your name. I’m Claire. What’s your name?”
“You should probably get out of here, Claire. The arena will be closing soon, and the snow is really coming down,” she says kindly, avoiding my question.
“Right. Sorry. You just reminded me of someone. I thought maybe, but nevermind. It’s silly.”
She begins to sweep the floor, and I return to my reflection, quickly fixing my hair under my hat, attempting to hold my shoulders high.
“Be careful tonight,” she warns as I pass by her. “You know what they say—the snow can make anything happen.”
Her words cause me to pause for a split second.
“What did you say?”
“The snow,” she repeats. “Some people believe that it can make anything happen.”
That’s the same thing Stella said in the cab, but she couldn’t be, could she? No, that’s impossible. She’s not Stella. I need to get it together.
“Have a good night,” I manage before walking away and shaking off all thoughts of pink hair.
Making my way through the almost empty arena, I’m reminded I still need to break it off with Raphael.
That I should call and tell him what I think about him.
Fuck, I wish Andi would answer the phone. I could really use the moral support.