Chapter 6
LANEY
“You look extra happy tonight,” Jessa says as she meets me in the hallway.
“It’s been a better day than I thought. Maybe I needed a change of scenery.”
“That’s why the door is open. Good luck with the rest of the broadcast. I have to get to my seat before the boys go out on the ice.”
“I need to get down to ice level. Gotta be prepared for all the interviews tonight.”
Jessa smiles at me and says, “Maybe you’ll have to interview the lacrosse boys. That would be fun.”
I laugh and try to picture them out on the ice as they try to win whatever tonight’s prize is. “I need to brush up on some lacrosse terminology. And by brush up, I mean learn it.”
We both laugh at that.
Then Jessa says, “Let me know if you want a ride home tonight.”
Smiling, I say, “That would be amazing. If you’re staying for the entire game, I just have a few interviews after, so I’d be like thirty minutes.”
She nods. “That would be great. Have fun.”
Gratitude overwhelms me. I didn’t feel this close to anyone in Seattle, and I’d been there for a lot longer than this. Then again, there weren’t set teams or responsibilities among the sportscasters. Here, we’re still flexible, but we interact a lot more with the same teams.
I make it downstairs a while before the game starts and get my interview with the head coach, as well as the captain of the team. He’s a strong, silent leader, and I admire that about him.
The first period is rough, with a lot of big checks and a fight that has a player from each team in the penalty box for ten minutes.
I walk over to the doors where the Lancers are lined up. Each of the six that are here are wearing a helmet along with little grippy contraptions wrapped around their shoes.
“Are you all ready for this?” I say with a laugh.
“For the Gauntlet maybe,” Burton says, shaking his head.
“Okay, I don’t know if we have all of the supplies for that right now, but we can always bring you back when we do.” I raise my eyebrows and wait for his response. He’s speechless, but his teammates are enthusiastically heckling him.
I try to keep my smile from spreading. “My cameraman is almost here. We’re going to do a quick interview. Who wants to do it?”
Burton pushes Clark toward the front of the group, but I see it and say, “Maybe it’s Burton’s turn?”
His eyes go wide, and he shakes his head. “No. That’s the captain’s job.”
“Maybe he needs a break from that. And I can imagine you’ll answer the questions with no problem,” I say, waving him over.
He steps forward, and the rest of the group looks like kids compared to him.
The cameraman gets into position in front of the boards, and I turn to look up at Burton. I might’ve sat next to him the night before, but he looks taller and more intimidating right now. Maybe because I picked him to do the talking.
“What’s your full name?” I ask, hoping he’ll answer it before it’s our turn to go live.
“Burton.”
I frown. “That can’t be your full name.”
“And yet, it’s the only one I answer to.” He gives me a little half-smile that makes my insides flutter.
Focus. I don’t need a cute smile and a head of brown hair to sway me. I’m on the job right now.
The light to the camera turns on, and I say, “I’m down here with a few players from the Salt Lake Lancers lacrosse team getting ready for intermission. This is Burton. What position do you play?” I ask, pointing the microphone at him for his answer.
“Attack.” He looks like he’s switched to game mode, if that’s such a thing, and I have to keep my expression from showing any extra laughter.
“Explain what that is to all of us who don’t know.”
It’s me. I don’t know. I know a lot about sports, but lacrosse is definitely one I’m not familiar with.
“It’s the position closest to scoring goals for the team.”
“When is your first game?” I ask, knowing this is supposed to be a marketing promo for their team. If it helps my curiosity at the same time, that’s not a bad thing, right?
“We play in four weeks at home.”
I think they said that last night at the diner. Obviously my brain wasn’t in the right state of mind to remember details like that.
I glance at the paper in my hand. “That should be a good game. How does your team do against the Rattlers?”
His face falls, and he looks like he’s ready to fight. “We’ll be out for blood.”
Are we allowed to say that on camera? “I take it they’re a big rival?”
“We lost to them in the championship last year.”
“That makes sense. Well, good luck out on the ice today, and we wish you all the best as the season starts.” I turn back to face the camera. “Scan the QR code on the screen now to enter for a chance to become a Lancer VIP for opening weekend.”
Burton visibly relaxes once the light turns off. “How did I do?”
I try to stifle a laugh. “Well, you were two eye-black stripes short of going to war.”
“That’s what lacrosse is like,” Burton says, the corners of his lips twitching.
“Good to know. Well, good luck out there, guys.”
I step back and watch as the Yetis finish out the first period. I get the interview of one player who scored a goal, but it seems a little tame compared to Burton’s intimidating words. Maybe that’s a good thing.
I’m in the perfect position to watch from the Yetis’ tunnel as the lacrosse guys head onto the ice. They walk gingerly, almost as if they’re getting ready to do ballet, and I can’t help but smile.
The idea of the game is that there are different targets along the sides where the hockey nets typically are, but the targets are a lot smaller than normal, reminding me of a knee-hockey net.
There are five nets per side, and they’ve divided the guys into two teams, lined up on opposite sides of the half-line.
They must throw the dollar store version of ping-pong balls toward the nets.
After the first few throws, they don’t have any in the nets. In fact, most of the balls haven’t gotten close, stopping about fifteen to twenty feet in front of them.
Burton is getting frustrated, and so are his teammates. He throws one low, and it skips across the ice like a rock on a pond, sliding into the net.
He leans over to his two teammates, explaining what they need to do. And just like that, they get at least one out of every two balls thrown into the nets.
The buzzer for the end of their three-minute game sounds, and Burton’s team wins.
I need to prepare for another interview coming up, but I’m curious what they won.
Steve, the rink announcer, speaks just then. “Each person on the winning team will receive one hundred dollars and the ability to host a VIP for their opening weekend.”
Does that have to do with the thing we were brainstorming last night?
Why would that be a prize? Management would come to us and tell us we needed to do something like host a VIP because it’s in the contract or something.
Then again, if people must sign up to enter now, maybe they’d get more tickets sold for games.
If anything, the look on Burton’s face is pure joy. Something about him pulls me in, making me want to get to know him better. That hasn’t happened since Tim ruined things, but I won’t read too much into it.