“That guy in the audience thinks so,” Jash says.
“Kind of looked like everyone in the audience thought so,” I point out.
“I’m still confused about why one fight gets a penalty over another,” Alok says. “Who gets to make those decisions?”
“The refs,” Jash and I say together.
“That seems unfair though, right? Or am I missing something?” Alok asks.
“Wait, hold on,” I say as I watch the replay for a third time on the screen. “How did the ref decide who was at fault for that fight? Did they say?”
A chorus of ‘nos’ answer me. I laugh. This is the epitome of the blind leading the blind. We’re trying to teach ourselves hockey and it’s not going well.
I’m thankful that I don’t miss Julian’s goal. I’ll never be able to explain the kind of excitement that filled me. It felt as though I’d made the goal. That was the level of excitement that had me on my feet cheering.
I’ve always been happy for my friends’ or siblings’ big moments. I’ve even felt happy and prideful for them. This feels different. It feels…more.I’m not sure how or why, but it truly feels like it was my success as I cheer.
I can’t stop grinning when the announcers loudly say Julian’s name. The audience is on their feet screaming. They replay the shot three times. Julian celebrates briefly with his teammates before they return to the game, showing far less enthusiasm than I think should be taking place right now.
The game ends in a tie but goes into overtime, which turns out to be more confusing. Why are there fewer players on the ice? This feels more intense than the entire sixty minutes of the previous game time and I’m on the edge of my seat.
I’m once again on my feet with the audience when New York makes a goal. My booing is as loud as the television. This time, my friends are right along with me. We may not knowexactlywhat’s going on every minute, but wecanrecognize the wrong team scoring.
It doesn’t end the game. Overtime still has three minutes left, which gives Chicago a chance to regain control or something. I do better just watching what’s going on than listening tothe commentators. Their words are unfamiliar and end up confusing me.
My entire body is tense as we watch the last three minutes slowly tick by. It’s fast and intense. The buzzer sounds at the end of the game and I flinch. Chicago lost 4-3.
“Uh-oh,” Jash says. “Is he going to be upset when he gets home?”
I chew the inside of my lip. This is the first game I’ve been here for. I’m not sure how he’s going to feel. I bet not good.
“Probably,” Anil says. “I’d be upset.”
“But at least he scored. Did you see all the different players on his team? Not many of them managed to score,” Alok points out.
“Yes. I think you should focus on that when he gets home,” Jash says. “Accentuate the positive or whatever.”
I snort. “Thanks.”
The sports people keep replaying moments of the game, so I turn it off. My brain hurts with all the new hockey words floating around in it. I think I’ve got them all jumbled and confused at this point. Definitely underestimated how confusing it could be. I had some lofty goals to impress Julian, but that’s certainly not going to happen tonight.
I wonder if he’ll be hungry when he gets home. I glance toward the kitchen but that feels far too intimidating to attempt as a cheer up.
Is he going to want to be cheered up? Some people don’t want others around at all when they’re upset or had a bad day. They like to wind down on their own. Others want to commiserate. Alok likes to rant and vent and carry on until it’s out of his system. He doesn’t need anyone to respond. Just a body to listen.
Contrarily, Jash wants to be distracted entirely. He doesn’t want to think about what he’s upset over at all. No reminders. Hewants the complete opposite of a reminder and to have his mind taken off the thing entirely.
I don’t know Julian well enough to even guess what he’s going to want.
“I’m going to go,” I tell them.
“Give him a big hug and kiss for me,” Jash says. “He’s going to need it.”
“Right. Thanks,” I deadpan. I turn the computer to face me again. “I’ll text you tomorrow. My tomorrow. Enjoy living the day I won’t begin for another few hours.”
Anil laughs as he backs out of the call. I hit the red button before anyone else can say anything. In the silence, I pace around the open space for a while, trying to determine what Julian would appreciate the most.
Eventually, I end up hovering just inside the entry to wait for him to come home. I’ll just have to guess and hope it’s enough.
