But we don’t dare risk it.
I settle for watching him skate. Dad loves Aiden’s skating style, as he’s blessed with both speed and agility. I watch him head around the net, then he begins to pick up pucks with his stick and fire them into the net. I see that curl has swept down across his forehead again, touching his eyebrow, and I can’t keep my eyes off him.
I’m lost in my own world for a moment, and then I feel Georgie staring at me. I look at her, and she’s studying me with a thinking expression on her face.
I turn my attention back to the ice, forcing myself to watch Wyatt instead of Aiden. Beckham comes over to talk to Georgie, and while she’s distracted, I go back to watching Aiden, who has started stretching on the ice.
The next thing I know, Beckham is throwing something over the glass to Georgie. She catches it, and I see it’s a friendship bracelet.
“I made it. I hear Swifties like them,” he says. “Gotta go, Cupcake. See you after the game.” Then he skates off, going back to the bench to retrieve his gloves.
Georgie reads the bracelet, and her whole face lights up. My heart warms. It’s obvious it’s something meaningful for both of them. She slides the bracelet onto her wrist, and I decide to busy myself by taking pictures. I make sure to take a bunch of all the players, so Georgie can’t be suspicious if I take some of Aiden.
We continue our conversation during warm-ups, which is good, because it gives me a reason not to watch Aiden so much. After it ends, Georgie turns and looks at me. “Do you sit with the WAGs, Scarlett?”
“Oh no, I sit with my mom,” I explain, putting my camera back into my clear tote bag. “But we should exchange numbers. You can text me whenever you want me to take pictures.”
“Yes, I’d love that,” Georgie says. I retrieve my phone. We add each other to our contacts. Then she smiles. “I think I’m going to make my way to my seat, but I’ll text you soon.”
“Great,” I say, smiling at her. “I’m so glad we met, Georgie.”
“Me too, Scarlett.”
We say goodbye, and I can’t help but be proud of myself. I put myself out there again in order to make some friends, and I think I could find one in Georgie.
As I’m making my way back up the steps, my phone vibrates in my hand. Once I’m in the tunnel, I lean against the concrete wall, flipping the phone over so I can read it. And I grow excited as soon as I see it’s from Hadleigh:
Hey! I know this is planning in advance, but are you free Friday, December 13? I was thinking a girls’ night out? I was talking about getting together with a friend of mine from college that I haven’t seen in a while, and she’s going to bring a friend, so I thought you could be my “bring a new friend” person. Okay, that sounds like bringing a dish to the office potluck, but I promise it’s just drinks and dancing in South Beach, and I don’t think of you as some really outdated casserole recipe passed down in the family.
She’s really funny. I like that. And her invitation is perfect. She even usedpotluckin it, and if that’s not a good sign, I don’t know what is. But I’ll get to know Hadleigh better and meet some more new people, too.
Could I go from no friends and spending my Friday nights with Mochi and Matcha to having a boyfriend and multiple new friends?
Yes. Yes, I could.
I text her back:
I’m in. If you want, I can be the sober driver, too.
Hadleigh is typing …
What kind of ass would I be to invite you out and make you be the sober driver?
I chuckle at that and reply:
Yeah, but I volunteered. So I’ll do all the driving.
She texts back:
Okay, but only if you insist. Thank you. I’ll let Marley know you’re in. I have no idea who she’s bringing, but I guarantee she’ll be better than a tuna casserole.
I text her back:
Do people even eat casseroles anymore?
Hadleigh replies:
Smart ass.
