I nod.
He flashes me another beaming smile and leaves. Once I’m alone again, I place my hands on the table and take a deep breath, trying to steady my wild heart. The number of times I’ve had to remind myself that I’m reading far too much into this is incredible. Like seriously, pathetic.
We’re friends. He’s used that word a whole lot, as if he’s purposefully reminding me. We’re friends.Justfriends.Onlyfriends. Nothing more.
It’s fine. I love being his friend. I wouldn’t change a thing.
When I check the time, it’s close enough to when the fans are going to start coming in, so I dress in my costume. Surry the Seal has a bucket with him most of the time because seals in captivity have trainers who give them treats from buckets. I carry around the giveaways in my bucket. It has a lid so no one can randomly take something nor put something in it.
I don’t always take the bucket with me. Right now, I have about a dozen L.A. Golden Tides lanyards on my arm, hooking them around a carabiner sewn into my arm for just this purpose. Now I have free use of both my hands, but still have something with me.
I wait a few more minutes, watching the clock on the wall so I’m not too early. When I can’t sit here anymore, I leave my office and follow the winding halls near the team suite until I get to the elevator that will take me to the lobby.
As soon as I step into the lobby, I can hear the crowds outside. I reach up, feeling the big head on my shoulders, assuring myself that no one can see me. This isn’t me. I’m Surry the Seal right now, not Torin Jonah. You’d think the restricted and distorted view would be enough to remind me. But I need to feel it as an extra assurance.
Once my brain is reasonably certain that I’m Surry right now, I step in front of one of the sets of double doors. There’s a vestibule between each set, making up three primary entrances. Within the vestibule are the ticket scanner people. I’m sure they have an official title but I’m not sure what it is.
When I step into the first vestibule, a ticket scanner lady says hi to me, and I find a little girl pressed against the glass. Her face breaks out into a smile when she sees me. I press my hands and face against the glass too and see her laughing.
Rarely do I actually speak inside my costume. My argument is that seals don’t speak. Sure, they also don’t have hands and legs and can walk around bipedally, but I’m sticking with my reasoning. We’re just going to have to communicate via body language and obscene hand gestures.
“Less than a minute,” someone behind me says.
Oh good. I didn’t come out here ridiculously early.
“Want to count down, Surry?”
I nod and wait until they give me the ten second warning. When they do, I hold up my hands for the girl to see. 10. 9. 8.
When I get to eight, the crowd catches on and starts chanting the countdown. The girl is jumping. I can’t hear her excitement over the many voices now, but I can see her energy. I wonder if she actually enjoys hockey or if she’s just tagging along with her family and is excited for the excursion.
She’s got a yellow wave painted on one cheek and is wearing ajersey. The number tells me it’s an Atty jersey. She should be wearing Hugo’s number, but I won’t judge her. She’s probably five. I’m guessing she didn’t pick out her jersey at all.
When we reach zero, the doors open. I turn and pretend to run out of the vestibule. It’s only a minor exaggeration because I definitely don’t want to be trapped in that tiny place as people crowd in. I may be hidden away inside this costume, but I’ve been stuck like that before. It can definitely lead to a panic attack. Small spaces. Lots of strangers. Packed in tight with lots of unnecessary touching. Yeah, no thanks.
I leave the lobby and head into the empty arena, making my way down the steps. The teams are likely in their locker rooms getting dressed or stretching maybe. I’m not sure what they do with their time this early.
Sighing, I force my mind away from Hugo. I have a job to do right now. I need to focus.
It was a good game.A kind of nasty game because Tampa is a nasty team. However, we still managed to win 4-2. I’m exhausted by the time I get to strip from my costume. Usually I’m a little better at cleaning up before I head out, but tonight, I just want to climb into bed with the relaxing background noise of my fish tank.
And maybe text with Hugo.
I’m just stepping out of my office when Hugo is walking by. He stops to wait for me, but my stomach drops when I see that there’s a girl under his other arm.
“Hey!” he greets, his usual exuberance evident.
“Hi,” I answer and fall into step beside him since that’s what he’s waiting for.
“What’s up tonight? We’re heading to the bar to celebrate. Want to join us?”
I look at him and shake my head. Not even a little bit do I want to go to the bar. That sounds like a world of horror to me. Hugo pauses once we get outside and turns to face me.
“Sorry. Of course, you don’t.” He stares at me. “I’ll message you later, okay?”
I nod. It’s not like he owes me anything. We’re just friends. He’s a fucking straight man!
But is it my imagination when he doesn’t immediately walk away? He hesitates as he stares into my eyes. Waiting for me to say something?
