You don’t sound completely happy about that, she notes.
I just find it hard to believe that things can work between us after the way I fucked everything up. He could do a lot better.
Andy bites her bottom lip. I wasn’t supposed to tell you this, but there’s nothing you can do about it now. Mats paid for your drug test today.
I’m shocked. When I read through the paperwork, the price was a lot higher than I expected. What the fuck? You said the cost was covered by the Messenger.
She nods calmly. I was counting on you knowing nothing about student newspaper budgets. Anyway, all I’m saying is that he’s trying really hard, and you should give him a chance.
A chance? It’s all I’ve been thinking about since he asked me to get back together. But I still feel guilty about all the mistakes I made by not pulling my head out of my ass sooner. So, maybe I’m punishing myself? Waiting until I have a negative drug test in my hand before I claim my reward?
But tonight is a big night for Mats. He’s got a huge playoff game. And afterwards, he’ll want comfort or a chance to celebrate. I could help with either.
Why deny us both what we want over some stupid guilt? I’ve done everything I can to fix the mistakes of my past. Now it’s time to grab my future.
I meet Andy’s eyes. Fine. I’ll give him a chance.
She smiles. See you at the game.
As she walks away, I yell after her, What would you have done if I was the kind of organized person who had tickets already?
Scalped them and bought a new spring coat, she calls back.
I laugh and message Becks to get ready.
I FUCKING LOVE THE PLAYOFF ATMOSPHERE, Becks declares. This will be us next week.
As much as I’d like that to be true, I’m not sure if it will happen. Men’s hockey always gets the biggest crowds, the loudest fans, and the most publicity. It’s an event the whole campus gets behind. But maybe this year, since we’re going in as favourites, we’ll be huge too.
At least we’ll get Musty, I say.
The school mascot is this giant grinning horse, who is currently skating around the rink. He goes to every men’s game, but only comes to our games during the playoffs. As I’ve said to Becks many, many times, the fucking horse only works for a total of fifteen minutes a night. How hard could it be to work two games a weekend? But the student inside the suit is famously cranky, so asking him once was enough for me.
Right now, Musty is giving his all to get the crowd worked up, encouraging the chants of Mus-tangs, Mus-tangs, Mus-tangs to get so loud that it feels like the old wooden rafters of the arena are shaking. Then the team skates out, and the volume cranks up even louder. I spot Mats, slicing across the ice with his elegant skating stride.
Fuck. When I see him skate, it’s like… I want to fuck him on the spot, I confess to Becks, though I have to yell, and the woman in front of us turns and stares.
Becks snickers. Saves time on foreplay. So, are you guys back together?
Not officially. I sound like I’m twelve years old. Not that I was dating then, either. Or even when I was sixteen. This year has probably been my dating peak, and fingers crossed that it’s not over. Do you think he still wants to go out with me?
It’s Mats. He’s like a fucking cruise ship—steady on his course and almost impossible to turn, she replies.
Yes, but he didn’t hesitate to break up with me when he found out I had lied. Of course, that won’t happen again. My essential nature is honesty, and from now on, I won’t be pursuing love and approval from the wrong people.
Obviously, I’ve been to tons of hockey games, but I’ve never had this feeling before—like everything Mats does out on the ice is thrilling and we’re completely connected. I knew he was a good player, but it’s amazing to see him in action. He sees the ice and anticipates so well.
I have exactly the same thought I had when I first saw him play: Why isn’t this guy at a higher level?
He’s really good, right? I ask.
Becks grunts. I fucking hate to admit this, but the men’s game is on a different level. And yeah, Mats is a stud. Did you see that takeaway on his last shift? And the shot?
He has the softest hands, I agree.
Then we snort with laughter because we have the same dirty minds.
At the beginning, the game is very close. Both teams are pretty even talent-wise, and they’re dialled-up for the playoffs. But by the end of the first period, Hoover has a two-goal lead, much to the disappointment of everyone in the arena.
