Chapter 24
CHAPTER
TWENTY-FOUR
APRIL
This is the most mortifying moment of my life.
Everyone is watching, filming, pointing at me .
Why, oh why did I think this was a good idea ?
“April, over here! Over here! One more picture!”
I smile and wave, so, so grateful that Rebel forced me to practice my picture-taking skills.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Play the game, April. Play the game.
Camera lights flash in my face.
Questions yell from all around.
Overwhelmed, I look for somewhere to point my attention and unwittingly catch sight of Chance on the ice. He looks like an intimidating mass of gear and muscle. How tall is he again? He seems bigger than usual. Is it because of the skates?
My fingers curl into fists and I force myself not to notice how his dark, Prince Eric hair is mostly hidden under a helmet with pieces sweeping just over his vivid blue eyes.
“Excuse me.” Rebel waves her hands wildly in front of the flashing cameras. “The game’s about to start. April will answer all your questions later.”
I rub my shoulders, shivering. The air conditioner is blasting in the arena. I knew it would be cold, but I didn’t anticipate it’d be Arctic-tundra cold.
Yeah, yeah. I’m aware it’s my fault. It was a risk not to wear a jacket, but I had to make sacrifices for my grand entrance.
“ Excuse me!” Rebel sounds like she’s reaching the last of her patience. “You can’t do this here!”
The reporters ignore her, continuing to swarm me.
Footsteps thump on the bleachers above and I glance up, noticing a bunch of security guards pouring into our section. A bear of a man charges ahead of them. He looks like he could pick all the journalists up and kick them out himself.
“Hey, April. I’m Max, Chance’s friend.”
“I remember you,” I mutter.
“Chance sent me to escort you down to better seats.” Gesturing with an arm the size of a cannon, the bear-man says, “Follow me please.”
I grab Rebel’s hand, dragging her with me. I’m not sure if Max’s invitation included my best friend or not, but it does now.
The security guards hold the reporters off while Max weaves through a series of brightly lit hallways. We make it to the lower ring of the stands, closer to the ice.
“I still have some things to take care of.” Max checks his watch and a slight, disgruntled look crosses his face. “So Bobby will escort you to your seats.”
“Thank you,” I say, sensing his barely-restrained impatience.
He smiles tightly and dashes off.
I remember Chance mentioning that his best friend is the owner of the team, and it strikes me then that Max probably had better things to do than rescue a teammate’s girlfriend from reporters.
“April!” Bobby appears before us, smiling brightly. He’s dressed in the team colors, blue and black. “And Rebel. Don’t you ladies look lovely?”
“Thanks, Bobby.” Rebel tosses her hair.
“This way.” Bobby takes the lead. “Watch your step, April. Don’t trip in that pretty dress.”
I smile, happy to be in the company of someone who isn’t sticking a camera in my face.
“Is this the VIP section?” Rebel teases, following Bobby down the stairs.
“Unfortunately, we don’t have one of those. Chance requested that you sit on the glass, but not too close since it can be overwhelming for your first game. This is your first game, right?” He peers at me.
“Uh, my first game in person? Yeah.”
Bobby nods as if he needed the confirmation. “I think right around here is good. Not too close, not too far.”
He gestures to seats that I know for a fact were not empty because when I tried to purchase tickets two days ago, only three spots were left in the entire stadium.
Rebel and I plop in.
The differences between our former seats and these upgraded seats remind me of the time I bought a super expensive, high-resolution scanner. It’s a mix of wide-eyed awe and a dash of ‘I can’t believe I lived my entire life without seeing these details? Is THIS how the graph of the TPS waveform is supposed to look?’
There’s a flurry of movement on the ice. Tall players skate past wearing fancy hockey uniforms. Excitement is a thick cloud in the air and it’s extra intense this close to the action. I can totally understand why these seats are considered the best. Right now, it’s as if I’m on the ice with the players.
“Do you ladies need anything to eat or drink?” Bobby asks.
I shake my head, feeling self-conscious. “I’m sure you have better things to do than get food and drinks for us, Bobby.”
“That might be true, April but,” Bobby leans in to speak conspiratorially, “Chance lost his mind when he saw you tonight. If Max and I didn’t scramble to your aid, he would have jumped over the boards and run to you himself.”
I glance at Rebel. “The boards?”
“You see those?” She points at the tall, transparent panes separating us from the ice.
Whoa. There’s no way Chance could have scaled something that tall… right?
“Unfortunately, Chance can’t run into the stands when the game’s about to start. You understand, right?” Bobby scans my face as if one hint of dissatisfaction from me will result in Chance beating him up.
My heart coughs like an engine with faulty wires. “Y-yes.”
“Great. So drinks?”
“No, we’re good.” I swallow hard.
Bobby flashes one more, friendly smile and runs off.
“Chance is really playing up his ‘role’ tonight,” Rebel says, her lips pursed.
“Isn’t it clear from last night that we’re both acting?” I rub my hands over my shoulders, kick my feet and blow on my palms to give them warmth.
“It’s just so hypocritical.”
“I’m doing the same thing. So technically, if he’s a hypocrite, so am I.”
With a shrug, she admits, “You’re right, but I just want to hate him in peace. This has nothing to do with being rational.”
That makes me smile.
Just then, I catch Chance looking at me.
Immediately, my grin falls flat and I dart my gaze away.
“Uh, I’m freezing,” I mumble. My teeth are chattering so loudly it sounds like a badger whittling a stick.
Rebel smacks her forehead. “I forgot your jacket in the car. Hold on a sec, I’ll be right back.”
“Do you want to share my blanket?” a girlish voice asks before my best friend can dart away.
I look to my right and notice a little girl, no older than six or seven, sitting two seats down. She has dark hair, twin dimples and chipmunk cheeks. The little darling is wearing leggings under a tutu along with a varsity jacket. Her funky outfit instantly gains my approval.
She pokes her head forward, entrancing me with warm brown eyes. “You can borrow it if you want.”
“Oh, sweetie. It’s okay. My friend will get my jacket for me.”
She unrolls her blanket and stretches across the two people sitting between us. “My daddy says it’s nice to share.”
My heart melts into a little puddle.
I accept the hot-pink offering. When I unroll it, I see a bunch of Hello-Kitty cartoons over the fabric. It might not exactly be my taste, but it is warm.
“Thank you,” I say. “What’s your name?”
The two people between me and the little girl scoot back to facilitate our conversation.
“Gordie.”
“Gordie? Is that short for something?” I ask.
Everyone in our vicinity gasps.
The woman in the row behind us shoots me the stink eye.
Rebel smacks my arm. “It’s for Gordie Howe. As in ‘Mr. Hockey’?”
I stare blankly at her.
“He pretty much invented the Gordie Howe hat trick?”
I got nothing is what my stilted expression says.
Rebel throws her hands up with a disappointed sigh.
“Well, thanks anyway, Gordie.” I tell her, settling the blanket on my lap.
“Oh, you had a blanket?” A haggard voice sounds above me.
I look up.
Bobby is bent over our row, panting with enough force to crack a rib bone. He grips the back of a chair.
“Chance…” he gasps, “wanted me…” he sucks in a breath, “to bring you his jacket.”
I blink pensively. “Are you okay, Bobby?”
“Yeah. Just…” He straightens and stretches his back. “Not as sprightly as I used to be. Anyway, can you take this? I need to go help Max.”
“Sure. And I’m sorry about all this, Bobby.”
He waves away my words and stumbles up the stairs like a drunken deer at midnight.
The stares, this time, are ten times more judgmental than when I walked in wearing a bright red dress.
I sink lower in my seat.
The spectators at the beginning of the row pass Chance’s jacket down to me.
I hear someone mumbling, “Who is she? A princess?”
“This is why I’m never getting a girlfriend. You just turn into their slave.”
“Like you could ever GET a girlfriend.”
The comments get fainter and fainter until the jacket finally lands in my lap.
I stare at the fabric.
McLanely is printed largely and in all caps across the back.
Rebel leans over, sees the jacket and snorts. “It might as well read ‘property of Chance McLanely. If lost please return to owner’.”
I silently agree.
“Are you going to wear it?” Rebel asks.
I say nothing.
“Do you want to wear it?”
Want isn’t a part of the equation.
Rebel frowns. “You don’t have to. You have an alternative.” She picks up the Hello Kitty blanket.
Shaking my head, I shrug into the jacket and almost moan in relief when I feel the warmth. The blanket was nice, but it only covered my legs so my arms were still freezing. Not only is Chance’s jacket warm, but it still smells like him too.
Not that that’s a bonus.
I’m just saying…
I hand the blanket back to Gordie who stands in her chair to smile at me. “You don’t need it anymore?”
“Uh, no. My… my friend gave me his.”
“Cool.” She turns and shows off proudly. “Look, I’m wearing my daddy’s jacket too.”
On the back of the blue and black gear is the name ‘RENTHROW’.
I smile politely at her as the lights go dim.
The game’s about to begin.
Chance and his team are going to skate around on the ice for about two hours and then…
And then whether his team wins or not… we have a date.