A spark of pride flickers in my chest.
SIIIIIIIDNEY!Joey screams.
It must be good timing instead of Sidney actually being able to hear Joey’s scream above the arena noise, but a second later, Sidney turns and looks up in our direction.He knows where we’re sitting.He sent us the tickets, after all.
It’s only a second.Maybe less.But he looks right at Joey, then right at me, and waves.I can’t see his expression through his helmet, but I have no doubt he’s grinning big.
I feel it all the way down my spine.Joey’s hand is going a mile a minute, waving back, but I can’t seem to do anything but smile.It feels so surreal to be here, watching Sidney do what he loves.
Joey doesn’t notice that I’m a statue.He’s too busy waving and taking everything in.When Sidney gives a little nod before turning away and refocusing, Joey spins to me.
This is so cool!he gushes.He sits for a moment, then springs back up.Can I go get a popcorn?
I’m brought out of my Sidney-induced haze and laugh.Of course he’s still hungry.
Sure.I grab my bag from where I placed it at my feet and pass him some cash.Do you want me—
Nope,he cuts me off, already heading out of the row and up the stairs.I have to bite back a curse.I’m not a huge fan of him running off so quickly but understand he’s a little overexcited now.He wants to spread his wings and be more independent, but…I’m struggling with learning the limit.
He’s not even gone ten minutes, and he returns with the largest popcorn imaginable.
The lines here are huge.I don’t think I’ve seen anything like that at my games.
No offense, kid, but your games don’t have thousands of fans in attendance.Yet,I add on, giving him a wink.
Yet,he agrees.
The lights dim then, and music starts blasting from the upper speakers.The arena descends into the roar of the pre-game pump-up montage.Lights flash in dramatic colours, and the announcer hypes up the crowd.When fire shoots up from the ice entrance, I jump, then laugh at the theatrics.
All the players skate out onto the ice, their names being screamed by both the crowd and the announcer.My heart gives a little kick when Sidney takes his place in the lineup.
As the lights dim for the national anthem, a couple scoots into our row and sits beside me.They both guzzle their beers throughout the performance.When the music stops and the lights brighten, the woman turns to her partner and sneers.
Do you think Crane will actually not suck this year?
The man side-eyes her, shrugging.He wasn’t that bad last year, but who knows?We got some good picks in the draft this year, so hopefully, this team will fucking do something this season.I’m tired of losing.
They laugh, but an angry tickle works its way up my throat.
What the hell are these two talking about?I don’t know anyone’s hockey stats but my son’s, but I’m confident the Nighthawks did fine last year.They made it to the semifinals, for crying out loud!
It’s not my place to correct them…but I am so, so tempted.
The game begins in a flurry of speed and noise.Joey screams himself hoarse.I cheer along, getting swept into the momentum despite myself.
Sidney is phenomenal.
Sharp.Fluid.In the zone.Blocking shot after shot like gravity doesn’t apply to him.By the second period, even the couple beside us is impressed.
Damn,one says, whistling low.What’s up with Crane tonight?He’s locked in.
He must have something to prove,the other agrees.Or someone to impress.
Maybe both,the first guy jokes.I’m just happy we’re back to stopping the opposition.
The Nighthawks win 3–1.Joey explodes into full celebration mode, punching the air and high-fiving the people around us.Watching him absolutely lose his mind has me holding my stomach, I’m laughing so hard.
We stay in our seats until the rink is clear and the Zamboni slowly starts making its rounds.I’m about to ask Joey if he’s ready to head home when he turns to me and asks,Can we head down to see Sidney?
