32. Monty
CHAPTER 32
Monty
R idgie the Bear had the best performance of his life Wednesday night.
It wasn’t too hard, since I only had to outdo myself.
But with Tasha watching, wearing the jersey I’d asked the equipment manager to make in haste, with “RIDGIE” across her shoulders over double zeroes, just like mine, I was pumped up more than ever. More than any national, international, or Worlds title I’d achieved.
Somehow, I’d won the heart of the girl I’d loved for over two decades. This bear’s feelings were finally out of hibernation.
It seemed like forever until I could get to the family section to greet the kids—and Tasha. She hung back while I goofed around and posed for selfies. Vali was there—she’d been released from the hospital a few weeks ago—and I’d asked Kami if she and Ryleigh would host her and her parents.
Finally, it was Tasha’s turn. I blew her a kiss and cast out an invisible fishing line. She laughed when I got Ryleigh and a few of the other kids to help me reel her from her seat to the aisle.
I bent my bear head down, and she kissed me on the nose. A collective “aw” thundered around us as the footage reached the jumbotron during the commercial timeout. My paws flew to my cheeks, and I tilted my head, giving them my best Bashful impression. Tasha wrapped her arms around me, a bear hug for the bear, and then we posed for Mags, who’d snuck away from her usual post by the players’ bench.
I had a feeling Bailey was already working on an article about a certain lovestruck mascot for the team’s website.
Play resumed, and the crowd forgot about us. I made the ASL sign for “I love you” and pointed to Tasha.
“Oooh, Ridgie’s got a girlfriend,” Ryleigh sang. “Can I be a flower girl at your wedding? I can provide references.”
“Ryleigh!” her mother scolded her, but she was laughing along with the other Wags.
“What? It’s true. I’ve been a flower girl seven times.” She tipped her chin up at me. “You know how to get in touch if you decide to go with a professional.”
I patted her on the head, then pointed at Tasha and signed for her to call me.
As I turned to leave, the fans erupted. Kingston Brewer had scored his third goal of the game. Hats flew, and I changed course toward Taylor. She high-fived me, and I made a grabby motion with my hands and patted my shoulder. She grinned and scooted in front of me. I squatted, placed my paws on her hips, and boosted her up to sit on my shoulder.
Jared was not pleased.
“Me next!” Ryleigh demanded.
“You gotta be eighteen and sign a waiver,” Jared told her.
He totally made that up. There was no rule against me picking up kids, as far as I knew, but there wasn’t much I could do since I couldn’t speak, and being purposely defiant in front of the public was frowned upon.
It was a good night. The Edge won 5-3 over the New Orleans Crescents, and a barrage of thousands of stuffed and plastic birds rained down on the ice after the final horn. The players were still celebrating in the dressing room after I showered and changed.
I was surprised to find Tasha waiting for me. “Don’t you have to work at the crack of dawn?”
“Hello to you, too.” She smirked. “Drive me home?”
“Of course.” She snaked her arm around my waist, and I pulled her to me. “I’m glad you came.”
“I love watching you work the crowd. Especially the kids. You’ve really taken this mascot thing to a whole new level.”
“Just wait until All-Star Weekend. Those other stuffies better be prepared to be upstaged.”
Tasha laughed. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
“I tend to put everything I’ve got into things that matter to me.” We turned the corner. The hall ahead was empty. I let go of her and gestured from my head to my feet. “Are you ready for all of this? All Monty, all the time?”
She crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows. “Hmm. Maybe not all the time. Eighty percent? I do have three jobs, you know.”
“I’ll take every minute you can give me.” I dropped my bag to the ground and reached for her. “And every kiss you’ll take. Each one is a promise that I’ll keep.”
“Keep saying things like that, you might work up to one hundred percent.” She walked into my arms and pressed her lips to mine.
Cheer Showcase day at the Plex.
We’d be the last team to perform, but several of our athletes coached other teams, so Tasha and I hung out behind the curtain that separated the performance mat from the warm-up mats. The risers were packed, and it was standing room only up on the balcony.
Our phones buzzed about thirty minutes in. I checked mine to find a text from Evan: I’m not going to make it. Fill in for me. My uniform is in my locker. Combo is 02-14-24.
“Evan?” I asked.
She shook her head. “Nope. I’ve got one from Amelia. She says she’s not going to make it. Everything I need to fill in for her is in Evan’s locker?” Her voice rose with each word. “What does she mean, Monty?”
“I don’t know. Evan isn’t coming either. I think they’re setting us up.”
“But—why? Why wouldn’t they want to perform after all the work they put in?”
I had my ideas, but I’d keep them to myself for now. “We’d better get changed and run through the routine. I’ll text the group chat to see who’s available to run it with us.”
We hurried to the lockers. I grabbed the bag inside, and we raced to the coaches’ locker room. I fished out the shirt and pants and gave the bag with the rest to Tasha.
“I can’t believe she did this to me! She was just here, coaching her tiny and mini teams! I wondered why she was in warm-ups and not in uniform, but did it occur to me to ask?” She answered her own question. “No! No, it didn’t, because who drops out of the showcase an hour before they’re set to perform? No one!”
“Well, they did.” I gently guided her toward a changing stall and nudged her in. “Get dressed so we can go save the show.” She entered the stall and slammed the door. I slipped into the one next to hers so I could hear all her mutterings.
“Save the show? They’re just darn lucky we made the routine and know the positions well enough to fill in for them! Save the show—ha! They’re going to need saving the next time I see them!”
I smiled as I listened to her rant on the other side of the wall. Thursday night at practice, Evan and Amelia had stayed after to watch us work out. It felt incredibly freeing to tumble and stunt and goof around with combinations when you weren’t under any pressure to perform.
And we might have snuck a kiss or two.
The jig was up. Our captains got to witness Coach Monsha at our mushiest.
Tasha was still ranting when I exited my stall to slick my hair into place and pull on my FireVolts Cheerdana.
“It’s a good thing my abs still look good! Look at this! Way too much skin!” She pointed to her bare midsection. “Oh, why did I have to choose such a complicated hairstyle? I should have just gone with a simple pony and Cheerdanas! Easy! Simple! And requiring extra hair ties, of which I have exactly enough, thanks to Barfy! And have you seen all the colors in this eye shadow palette?” She held it up and waved it in the air. “I hope you still like glitter, because it’s gonna be all over you for days.”
“Just like old times.” I grinned. “Can I help?”
She tapped her chin. “Yeah.” She divided her hair into three sections, two at the crown and one at the back. “I don’t have any clips. Can you be a human clip and hold the sections I’m not working on?”
“Sure.” I stood behind her as she continued to ramble as she braided and twisted her hair, offering supportive and affirmative responses when required. Then I watched her apply her makeup. It took me back in time, and I was determined that we’d pull off our best performance ever.
She might be upset with our captains, but I planned to thank them profusely for this opportunity with my once-again forever partner.