26. What The Hell?
26
WHAT THE HELL?
KYLIE
For some reason, today is the day that my grandparents are running late for the first time in my life. We were half an hour late getting out the door, and we had to park far away from the stadium, so then had to trek through the snow in -10 degrees. My hands are numb, despite the fact that I’m wearing my new gloves, and it’s such a relief to get inside.
“Damn it, we’ve missed the warm up,” Grandpa grumbles, shooting a glare at Grandma like it’s her fault, when from what I could tell, it was a joint issue that kept us from getting out the door.
He hands me my ticket. “Okay, you’re sitting in the front row in the same section as our seats. You should see Adele there with the boys.”
I nod and follow them to their section, spying Adele in the first row. I wave goodbye to my grandparents while they file into their row before continuing on down the stairs.
“Hey! You missed the warm up!” Adele jumps up when she sees me, and waves her hands at the guy next to her to move down behind her, so that she can sit next to me. “What happened? Why were you late?” she asks, handing me a large bag with the Mounties logo on the front.
“Grandma and Grandpa were mucking around, getting ready, and bickering about something. Think they just lost track of time.” I open up the bag and pull out a red and black jersey. “I didn’t realise you were serious about buying me a jersey. I could have bought one. Surely this was expensive?”
“Hush. I wanted to buy it for you. I got you a Davidson one.” She leans in close and lowers her voice. “Don’t tell Ben, but I had the biggest crush on Davidson for years. Seriously, wait until you see this guy. He is so hot. But he’s also Ben’s friend, so it would be super weird for him to know I’d been lusting after this guy before we met.”
“Your secret is safe with me,” I say with a grin, standing up to remove my jacket and pull the jersey over my head. It’s a very baggy fit, and I look down before looking back at my cousin. “This kind of negates the sexy top we went shopping for.”
“Well, it’s a hockey town. Who knows, maybe guys will think you look hotter in that than the top. But you don’t have to wear it out later.”
I sit back down and lean across Adele to talk to the attractive blonde guy beside her. “Hi, I’m the cousin.”
Ben grins at me and sticks out his hand. “Hi, the cousin. I’m the boyfriend.”
“The boyfriend with connections, from what I’ve been told. You know a couple of the guys on the team, but you’re wearing Vancouver’s jersey? That’s cold.”
He lets out a deep, booming laugh. “I like her,” he says to Adele, before turning back to me. “I went to school with two of them, Davidson and O’Malley. O’Malley was with Vancouver before.” He turns and points at the back of his jersey, showing his friend’s name written on the back. “But he was traded to Calgary last season. Turned out pretty good for him. Got into the playoffs, and he and Davidson are pretty tight, so it was good for them to be reunited. Sad for me though, I lost my in with my team.”
“Your loss is our gain, baby. Sorry.” Adele gives him a quick kiss on the lips and ruffles his hair.
The other guy, a tall redhead, leans forward to give me a little wave. “Hi, I’m Matt. Welcome to Canada.”
“Thanks. It’s been a great first week.” I wave my hand towards the ice in front of us. “I need you guys to explain the rules to me. I have no clue about this game other than they chase a small disc around and they are allowed to beat the crap out of each other.”
“To be fair, that’s probably the most accurate description of hockey I’ve ever heard,” Adele says, while both guys give me mildly affronted looks.
“Just wait. Once it starts, you’ll be screaming with the rest of us. It’s an addictive sport.” Ben points to the seating area beside me on the other side of the glass. “That area right there is where Calgary sits. These are probably some of the best seats for your first ever NHL game. We used to only get seats in the nosebleed section, like up there, when I was a kid.” He points behind us, and I turn to look, seeing seats so high up that the players must be tiny specks on the ice for the people sitting there.
I turn back to reply to Ben, but as I open my mouth, the lights in the arena go out, and spotlights begin strobing around on the ice, while the music plays even louder.
“Here we go! I’m so excited for you!” Adele squeals, and I can’t help but laugh.
Everyone is treating this like it’s a rite of passage for me.
The announcer yells out players’ names as they skate out onto the ice. The large screen hanging down from the roof above us is too hard for me to see from where we are sitting, but when the name O’Malley is called out, Ben points towards his friend, and I nod. Aside from the names on the backs of the jerseys, they all look similar in their padding and helmets, but I can tell he’s tall .
When they announce Davidson, Adele elbows me in the side, and I shake my head at her. My cousin has absolutely no chill.
The players on both teams skate around in the dimly lit arena for a bit before most of them head to the glassed boxes - or the bench, as Adele informs me it’s called, and the lights come back on.
“So the first line of players are the ones on the ice now, five of them, or six if you include the goalie. They’ll start the game after the anthem. Then they change out in shifts every minute,” Adele explains. “There’s two defencemen, two wingers on the left and right, and then the centre. That’s Davidson for the first line.”
I nod, not entirely sure I understand what she means.
The announcer instructs us all to rise for the anthem. For the first time, it hits me how far away from home I truly am when it’s the Canadian anthem being sung by some guy in a massive cowboy hat, and not the Australian one that I’m so familiar with. I hadn’t felt homesick at all, but now I feel a faint stab of emotion I can’t identify, and wish someone from home was with me, like Will or Tara.
But once the game starts, I get caught up in the constant flurry of motion. I don’t know how anyone can track where the puck is most of the time and I wince whenever the players slam each other into the sides hard enough to make the wall wobble. It looks super painful, but I guess with the amount of padding they are all wearing, it’s not too hard on them, because they just keep moving.
I spend the entire time asking constant questions, and while Adele answers them, I can see that the guys are starting to get annoyed at the distraction. After about the twentieth question, I manage to get a general idea of what’s going on, although I shut up more so because I’m sensing the annoyance rather than having a proper understanding of what’s going on.
Towards the end of the first period, the ref blows the whistle for a penalty, although I have no idea what it was, and Adele nods at me. “We should go for a bathroom break now, because the lines are insane during the break.”
I nod and rise to my feet, just as one of the Calgary players slams against the glass in front of me, and I yelp. A Vancouver player ploughs right into him, pinning him against the glass.
I stare at his face for a moment, certain I’m seeing things. Behind the beard, I swear the face belongs to one very familiar Canadian sidekick I know well. He turns and heads back towards where the ref is standing with the puck in hand. I see the name O’Malley written on his jersey.
“You okay?” Adele asks.
I ignore her and turn to Ben, who’s still watching the game intently. “Ben… What’s O’Malley’s first name?”
Adele squints at me while Ben looks up at me, distracted. “Lincoln. Why?”
I whip my head back towards the ice, searching for the name again. Maybe Lincoln O’Malley is a super common name in Canada? It couldn’t be my Lincoln.
Davidson catches my attention when he skates past on the way to the bench. He hops through the little gate, followed closely by O’Malley. The two of them bump fists as they sit down. Davidson turns to face the ice again, and I catch a glimpse of his side profile.
It’s like I’m frozen in place, unable to move my feet while I stare at the man on the other side of the glass, my mouth completely dry.
“Kylie, you gotta go. We’re blocking people’s view. We should have moved when the referee blew the whistle for that last penalty.” Adele is trying to push me forward.
“And Davidson’s first name?” I still can’t get my feet to move.
“Kylie, seriously, move!” Adele’s voice carries when she yells at me, and Davidson’s head whips around.
I don’t know how he heard her over the rest of the arena noise, but when his eyes meet mine, they widen, and we stare at each other .
“Seth,” I say, my voice coming out in a hoarse whisper.
I feel like someone has knocked the wind out of me.
There’s no mistaking it. It’s Seth… My Seth…
My Seth with a beard.
“Yeah, his name is Seth.” Adele stops beside me and follows my gaze to where Seth is staring at me, open mouthed. “What the hell?” She sounds confused, but I can’t look away while my eyes remain locked with Seth’s.
The buzzer sounds and the surrounding fans all leap to their feet to head out to the bathroom or for refreshments.
Every conversation I had with them both about their job runs through my head.
“We work for a sports team.”
And.
“So you’re like the team physiotherapist?”
Awkward pause. “Something like that.”
And one that really stands out, now that I know what had happened at the end of last season.
“Work's been a bit… rough.”
I feel like I exist inside of a vacuum, one where it’s just Seth and I staring at each other. The rest of the players rise from the bench and start filing out. Lincoln turns to say something to Seth, and when he doesn’t get his attention, he looks towards me and his mouth drops open.
I can’t hear him, but I see him mouth the words “We’ve gotta go,” to Seth, shaking his shoulder.
Seth is pulled from his own daze, looking at his friend for a second before looking back at me. I’m sure my face must show my complete shock, and he looks pretty shaken up himself.
“Kylie, what the hell is going on?” Adele sounds worried, and Seth’s eyes shift from me to her, then back again.
He finally gets up and follows Lincoln, both men looking back at me constantly even as they disappear down the tunnel.
I try to sit down again, completely ignorant to the fact that the rest of the people in our row need to get past, and Adele urges me to stand, moving me into the centre of the aisle while people file past us on both sides.
“You are legitimately worrying me now. Are you okay? How did you know Davidson’s name was Seth?”
Unable to process the words, I fumble for my phone in my pocket and open up my photos. I find the last one Seth and I took together, a selfie I’d snapped of the two of us in front of the museum on our day in London, and show her. Ben joins us while she stares at my phone with her eyebrows knitted together.
“How… what…” She seems to have trouble forming her questions.
“What’s going on?” Ben asks, and Adele shows him the photo. “Holy shit.”
I swallow hard. “Yeah. Holy shit.”