8HarperThe Kraken
Harper
The Kraken
Harper checked her outfit in the mirror.
She had already put Ash’s assistant, Romeo, on her Christmas list. He’d started emailing her calendar invites directly and included suggested dress codes.
Today’s date had come with the cheerful note – remember to wear a coat!
So she thought it was either an outdoor event or someplace chilly, but she wasn’t sure because the heading just read Kraken .
She didn’t think they would really see an undersea monster but assumed Ash would explain whatever ocean-related event they were attending when she saw him.
But she forgot.
Their conversation flowed from the moment she got in the car and lasted until they were standing in line waiting to get into their event.
“Ash!” Harper clutched at Ash’s arm as they moved through the line. “This is a sports arena!”
“Yes,” said Ash. “Climate Pledge Arena.” He pointed to the giant, unmissable sign above them.
“You said we were going to see a Kraken!”
Ash was silent for a long moment.
“Harper, did you think I was taking you to an aquarium?”
“I don’t know. The email said to wear a warm jacket and that I shouldn’t bring a purse! I thought it was some sort of boat thing!” They shuffled a few steps forward in line.
“It’s hockey,” said Ash. “The Kraken are a hockey team.”
“I don’t know anything about hockey!” Harper felt the bubbling panic in her gut and tried to keep it from showing on her face, but wasn’t sure she was successful.
“Well, I have been to four whole games now, and as far as I can tell, the goal is to get the flat disky thing into the other team’s net and slam each other into the ice as frequently as possible.
There are probably more nuances, but that seems to be all anyone needs to know to enjoy it.
Do you hate sports? We don’t have to stay very long. ”
“I like sports,” said Harper. “I hate jumbotrons.”
“Well, that is… unique.” He looked like he was thinking it over. “Like jumbotrons attacking or just in general?”
“Being on one.”
“Ah! That I can understand.”
They reached the front of the line, and Ash flashed his phone at the ticket taker. Harper waited her turn to be waved through the metal detector and then hurried to catch up with Ash who was waiting on the other side.
“You don’t have to worry,” he said, tucking her arm into his.
“Clyde hosts these things because he’s hockey-obsessed and likes to feel like his VIP box is worth it.
I’ve never seen the jumbotron guys ever focus on it before.
We just hang out, have some drinks and snacks, cheer for the team with the intimidating S on their jerseys, and chat people up. ”
Harper felt her panic ease a fraction. Ash was right. Cooper had paid for the jumbotron last time. She was being irrational. There was no way the same thing could happen to her twice.
But even after being introduced around, Harper still found the steady thrum of the crowd overwhelming and ducked into the ladies’ room to escape.
At least the VIP restrooms were quieter.
She sat in the stall and took a few moments to steady herself.
But her phone vibrated as she stepped into the baby changing station area.
Two other women from Clyde’s party were there ahead of her, fixing their hair into careful ponytails that went through their ballcaps in the ubiquitous sign of sports style.
Harper, seriously, we need to talk.
Her pulse rate jumped, and then Harper became angry.
As usual, Cooper started a conversation in a way that made her feel as if she were in trouble.
She pressed herself against the wall as she composed a reply.
Harper didn’t think the women would be bothered by her presence, but she hated taking up unnecessary space.
There’s nothing to talk about. I said I would get you the money, and I will.
We should formalize matters.
My promise isn’t good enough?
Harper wanted to throw her phone across the room. Cooper had always liked things written down and spelled out. And she’d always found it nitpicky and punitive. They’d broken up. Why did she still have to put up with his obsessions?
Just call me, and we can talk.
“Problems, honey?” asked the woman at the mirror. She looked about forty, and Harper admired her effortlessly casual chic look in a cream sweater and jeans. “You look big mad at whoever’s texting you.”
“It’s my ex. He wants to talk.”
“Oh, fuck no,” said the other woman. She was Asian and wearing a pink hat and a tucked Kraken jersey. “Sorry, none of my business.”
“I’m open to advice,” said Harper. “I don’t have to take it if I don’t like it.”
“Well, in that case, I will just remind you that no is a complete sentence. The fuck is completely optional, although I personally prefer it.”
“It’s none of my business either,” said the woman by the mirror. “But I will second that advice.”
Harper laughed. Then she frowned at her phone as she visualized sending that message. “Why is one word harder to type than six?”
“Oh… Patriarchy, probably,” said the woman at the mirror, swiping on some lipstick.
“Because as women, nice is our social currency, and saying no is never nice,” said the other woman, checking that she’d gotten the tuck on the jersey right.
“Like I said,” said the woman in the sweater. “Besides, you’re with Ash Valkyrie. What can this guy possibly have on him?”
The woman was absolutely right. Even fake Ash was better than real Cooper. Making up her mind, Harper typed the two letters and hit send.
No.
“Thanks,” said Harper, dropping her phone in her purse.
“Bathroom squad for the win,” said the woman at the mirror. The two women grinned at each other and high-fived, which made Harper laugh. They all walked back to the VIP box together, and for once, Harper felt like part of the in-crowd.
Ash immediately called her over to meet the host, but moments after the introduction, Ash was distracted by someone else, leaving her smiling awkwardly at Clyde.
Clyde was a tall man of about fifty sporting a Kraken fan jersey.
When she confessed that she knew nothing about hockey, he flailed his arms in dismay.
“What? Hockey’s the best!”
“We watched more baseball at my house,” said Harper. “My Dad and I liked to run all the stats.”
“Hockey has stats!” Clyde pulled her over to the front row of seats and practically pushed her into one.
Ten minutes later, she had a beer and a better understanding of the game as Clyde info-dumped hockey at her.
The jumbotron was over the home team’s net, and Harper was reassured to see that it was showing gameplay and courtside fans.
“So off-sides is when the player crosses that line ahead of the puck?” she asked, pointing to the line in question.
“Yes!” Clyde’s enthusiasm was contagious.
Harper watched, blinking as she tried to keep track of the puck. “Oh,” she said. “It moves really fast, and they try to fake each other out a lot, don’t they?”
“You’re getting it! Look!” Clyde pointed at one player.
“He’s setting up to get a pass from around the back of the net.
” Even as he spoke, the puck flashed along the ice, rounding the curve of the rink.
But there was a tangle and smash of bodies into the sideboards as the two teams battled over the small disk.
“Ooh!” Harper raised her hands in enthusiasm as a Kraken player appeared with the puck and made a breakaway toward the goal. Moments later, they were cheering and high-fiving as the Kraken scored.
“Are you trying to steal my girlfriend?” demanded Ash, sitting down on the other side of Harper from Clyde.
“No, I’m trying to convert Harper into a hockey fan, and then you’ll have to buy a box next season.”
Ash chuckled as he put his arm along the back of her seat and swapped out the beer, which he knew she didn’t like, for an unopened hard seltzer.
“Not the worst plan,” Ash said as he settled her beer into his cup holder and handed her a plate with a hot dog. She loved ballpark hot dogs but was surprised he’d prepped a small dixie cup of mustard on the side.
“It’s all about strategy,” said Clyde with a grin.
Someone called Clyde’s name, and he went to talk to his other guests, leaving her with Ash.
“You put my mustard on the side,” said Harper, staring at the plate.
“Did I not get it right?” asked Ash, inspecting her plate. “I wasn’t sure about the ratio to relish.”
“It’s perfect,” said Harper. “But Ash…”
“What?”
“I never finished my dossier. How did you know?”
“You saw those giant pretzels at the store last week and said you love ballpark food, but that mustard and relish shouldn’t be allowed to pre-mix.”
“I said all that?” Harper felt a little ill.
She remembered the evening. They’d gone grocery shopping after one of Ash’s events had been terrible in the appetizer department.
Then they’d gone back to Ash’s and eaten all their snacks while watching One Piece.
She remembered feeling happy and relaxed.
She didn’t remember off-loading stupid facts and hot dog preferences. He must think she was incredibly weird.
“Yeah, and then you told me about lye baths on pretzels, which I did not know. And then we agreed that giant salt is the best salt.”
“It really is!”
“It gives both flavor and texture,” agreed Ash. “And now we can find out if hockey franks stand up to baseball dogs.”
“What? No,” said Clyde as he passed by on his way to the bar. “Hockey dogs! No question.”
Harper giggled around her bite of hot dog.
“Well, obviously,” agreed Ash.
“That’s right. Tell him, Harper!” Clearly suspicious of Ash’s agreement, Clyde gave him side-eye but kept moving.
“And what does Harper think?” asked Ash, leaning over to whisper quietly in her ear.
“It’s not bad,” said Harper, whispering back. “But baseball dogs are best.” Ash chuckled. Their faces were only inches away and it made Harper feel giddy, like they were going to kiss.
“Kiss cam! Kiss cam!”
“Ash!” yelled Clyde. “Kiss her!”
Harper froze. A cold wash of terror flooded her veins.
The assembled guests inside the box began to cheer, and Harper felt as if her heart was beating out of her chest. Her nightmare was coming true. Again.
“I’m on the jumbotron again, aren’t I?” Harper gasped.
“Don’t worry, Smoak,” said Ash. “I got you.”
Standing up, Ash stood in front of Harper, blocking her from the view of the jumbotron camera.
Terrified but unable to look away, Harper turned her head to watch him on the giant screen.
Ash unzipped his coat with a flourish—revealing the black and blue Kraken jersey underneath—and grabbed Harper’s beer.
He planted a kiss on the cup and then chugged the entire thing in one long gulp before holding the empty glass aloft.
Ash and his beer were surrounded by an animated pulsing heart in purple and pink on the jumbotron.
The arena erupted in cheers.
“That is the kiss cam I didn’t know I needed,” said Clyde, laughing and clapping. The entire arena cheered as Ash bowed with a flourish before dropping back into his seat.
The scene on the jumbotron swept back to the ice as the action re-started, and Harper breathed a sigh of relief.
“You are amazing,” said Harper, grabbing his hand as if she could squeeze her gratitude into his fingers. She was in awe of his confidence and chivalry.
“What can I say? College teaches valuable life skills. Although, now I might either puke or burp really loudly.”
Harper couldn’t help laughing. “Please let it be burping.”
“That is also what I’m hoping for,” said Ash. “Apparently, my stomach is not as young as it used to be. We should probably just sit here and pretend to snuggle for a minute or two.”
“Bet,” said Harper.
“What?” Ash asked, laughing.
“Sorry. My co-worker says it all the time.” She settled against his shoulder and wished the chairs didn’t have arms.
“Well, you’re worth betting on,” he said, pulling her closer. Harper felt warm all over. With Ash around, she probably didn’t need a coat.