“Is everything okay?”
“Of course,” she says, but her voice is higher than it was a minute ago. “Here’s your ticket.”
“Thank you.” I smile at her, but she does not return it.
* * *
“Hey.” I find Noah and Izzie outside the concession stand, again, and Izzie proceeds to launch herself into my arms, just like last time.
“Hi,” Noah replies, looking at me with an intensity that would set my core on fire if I believed he meant it, but flirting must be his default setting, as he’s made it clear he doesn’t want to be seen with me. Not as more than a friend from some imaginary class we’re taking together.
“I was so happy you said yes,” Izzie tells me. “Tatum’s grandparents are coming over, and I like her banana cake, but the less time I spend with them, the better.”
“Izzie,” Noah reproaches.
“You said the same thing.”
“To you. You can’t go around?—”
“Sav is my friend, Noah. She won’t tell. Right?”
“I won’t tell,” I agree.
“I have so much for us to do today.”
I want to stay and talk to Noah, who isn’t rushing for the locker rooms like last time, so we can clear the air about what happened in his room the other day, but Izzie takes my hand and pulls me towards our seats, so I reluctantly follow.
Her bag is filled with games and homework, as well as a kit to make friendship bracelets. She opts to do homework first, because her mom warned her she couldn’t go out with Noah after the game unless it’s all done.
“Think we should get food now to avoid the crowds?” Izzie suggests after about twenty minutes.
“Are you hungry or bored?”
“Hungry,” she says confidently. “We only have so much time together until the game starts, and then we have to pay attention to the ice.”
I wonder if she’s hinting that she wants to hang out some other time, not at the arena, but I don’t want to overstep, so I say nothing. Instead, I take out the huge Tupperware from my backpack. I couldn’t fit it with Noah’s sweatshirt – that I have yet to return – so I chose treats over heat. It’s in my car though, in case Noah asks about it.
“Would these help?” I offer a variety of muffins and cookies.
“I love you!” she exclaims.
I made them in consideration of what they both ordered when we went out, because the last thing I want is to be responsible for an allergic reaction.
“It’s just food,” I argue, but Izzie looks thrilled.
Chapter Seventeen
Noah
Might Be a Jersey Chaser
“What’s got your panties in a bunch?” Darren asks as I’m lacing my skates. There’s a possibility I got lost in my thoughts and was staring off into space.
“Nothing.” It sounds like a bark, and I feel like a dick.
“Your mom and Izzie okay?”
“They’re good. Izzie’s in the stands.”
