“Lately?” Sab yells in the background. “That boy has the focus of a hamster.”
“Come on. Now we’ve got to film Maisie’s bit again. You know we can’t be trash-talking the other team.”
“It’s not trash talk. Friendly ribbing. I’m sure he wouldn’t even notice. He’s into any attention you give him. He’d probably be flattered.”
“Not making the cut.” I have to make the tough calls sometimes.
“Fine. I still think he’d love it, though.”
Beth nods. “I agree.”
Everyone cycles by the camera, making their predictions, and then I step in front of the screen. I have to force myself to let go of the lip I’ve been gnawing at before I hit record. “Hey, Wildlings. I’m going to have to agree with the rest of the ladies. We’re definitely going to snag the W this afternoon. Let’s say three to one. Jenson has come back from the holidays fresh, and he only let in one goal in their last game. And as for who is going to score? I’m going to say Hail, Schaeffer, and one for Whitaker, but he’ll get at least one other assist.”
These are my favorite videos. Making predictions. Running the stats is my happy place, second only to my time on the ice. It’s why I want to make a career in sports data analysis. The numbers make sense to me. Sometimes words are hard, but numbers are always reliable. And a pro career in women’s hockey is a unicorn. The new league starting up next year is an exciting step. But with only six teams, the chances of landing a spot are somewhere in the realm of getting struck by lightning. I need a solid, reliable career, not a pipe dream.
Once everyone has had their say, we spill out the front door in a jumble, piling into a couple of cars. Some of the team came over to get ready together, and the rest of the ladies will join us at the game. Maisie was right. I can’t let them one-up us. If they’re going to show up for us, we’ll show up for them.
I’m leaning forward in my seat. My shoulders are tense as they grapple for the puck. This is what the game is all about. Fast action, sharp plays, and teamwork. I’ll give Whitaker that. His team works together seamlessly as if they’re sharing a hive mind. Hail is ahead of the puck and in the perfect spot to receive Cole’s pass as he speeds toward the net. It rebounds off the post, and I can almost hear the satisfying tink as it slips to the right whereBeau is waiting and watching. He snags it, sending it into the net.
Maisie’s tub of mustard hits the ground in a bright yellow catastrophe as we leap to our feet, cheering on our school. Second goal of the game in the second period. One more, and I’ll be close.
I shift my legs to the left as I’m settling back in my seat to avoid the mess as Maisie leans over to swipe it up.
“If you call this one, I’m going to think you’re some kind of hockey wizard. You’ve called the scores of the last three games. This might be your hottest streak yet.”
Her curls bounce as she sits back up.
“What can I say? The numbers don’t lie. I’d love it if JJ shuts them out, but I still think Penn’s gonna get one past him. He’s having a phenomenal season, but he’s a little weak on his left side.”
“You’re such a nerd.” Jenna leans in to steal a handful of the forgotten bag of popcorn in my hand.
I laugh, yanking the bag away. “And proud of it.”
They skate down the clock to the end of the period, and I leap up at the sound of the horn. “I’m going to hit the restroom.”
Instead of fighting the crowd to get to the public restrooms in the lobby, I head for the players’ area. A random conversation catches my attention as I’m hopping down the stairs.
“She’s going to see Beau between periods. How adorable is that?”
“Why isn’t she wearing his jersey? If I were his girlfriend, I’d want to let everyone know he’s off the market.”
My jaw aches from grinding it so hard to keep from responding. Not the time or place. I’m already running ideas through my head on what type of video I can make to make it clear we’re just friends.
I wash my hands and touch up my makeup before heading back out. I’m so focused on getting back, I don’t notice the player hurtling down the hall until he slams into me, sending me sprawling. My head snaps back, hitting the floor. It’s a bit of a shock, but not too bad on the rubber-lined stretch of ground.
“JJ! What the fuck?” A shadow falls over me as I’m struggling to sit up. Beau’s concerned face comes into focus, and I grab the hand he’s holding out to pull me up. “Wilder? What are you doing back here?”
“Thanks. I was just using the restroom. Didn’t want to wait in line for the entire break.”
“Are you okay?” He drops to a squat, peering at me. His eyes are stunning this close up. A vibrant sky blue. Where did that thought come from? I must have hit my head harder than I thought.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I’ve been hit way harder than that.”
“JJ. You dick. Get over here and apologize to Wilder. Otherwise, she’ll never let you star in any of her videos. Right?” He slides his hands up to rest on my forearms in a warm grip.
“That’s right. Blacklisted.” I smirk.
JJ has all the energy of an eager puppy as he bounces on his heels. “I’m so sorry, Luna. I didn’t see you. Want me to get you some ice?”
