He smiles broadly. “So, it’s working?”
“I’ll sit with your parents on one condition.”
“Name it.”
“I get to wear pants,” I reply. “And underpants.”
He frowns slightly then his eyes light up as if he’s just having some big epiphany. Then he says, “You can wear whatever you want, whenever you want. Consider that addendum fulfilled,” he pauses, leans in, brushes his lips against mine, “For now.”
I smile, and he pulls back, searching my eyes with a suspicious look on his face. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay home and rest?”
I roll my eyes, wave him off. “And have you spend the entire game worried because I’m not within sight?”
“That’s fair.”
“I’ll be okay,” I respond. “If not, your parents can bring me home and keep an eye on me until you get back.”
With a final squint he nods, then once again leaves the room, doing his final prep before having to leave for his game. I glance at my watch then plop back down on the sofa, pulling the blanket up over me, happy to have time for one last cat nap before game time.
31
PANIC PLAY
REN
“Goddamn it, Raf,”Dave shouts as he skates by, “Get your head in the fucking game or get off the ice.”
I’d shout something obnoxious back if he wasn’t right.
I’ve spent the entire fucking game worried about Cassidy.
She seems tired yet restless up in the stands with my parents. And I can’t even text my mom to ask her opinion. I half consider asking Coach if I can borrow his phone, but with the way I’ve been playing, I know it would just earn me some extra drills at our next practice.
Change up is called, and for once in my playing career I’m happy to see the bench, where I can watch Cassidy without being heckled by my teammates.
Cassidy leans toward my mom, speaking to her, but then she stands, rubbing her shoulder. She says something else to my mom, but then my view is cut off by one of my teammates cutting in the way.
Change up is called again, and Dave shoves me out onto the ice, then shoves me again when I don’t immediately skate forthe puck as I’ve done for decades. I take off, but then out of the corner of my eye I catch sight of Cassidy, standing oddly in the middle of the row.
I stop dead, ice spraying around me, then watch in horror as she sways, then falls, disappearing between the seats. My parents immediately move toward her, as do the other people in the row and I take off, no longer giving one single fuck about hockey.
“Cassidy,” I shout, skating full-bore for the opposite side of the ice. Leaping up onto the glass, I hang on, wishing to hell and back I could scale the fucking thing in my skates. “Cassidy!”
She’s now lying on the stair landing; my parents both knelt beside her. My mother leans close, pats her on the cheek repeating her name over and over, but Cassidy remains still, unmoving.
My dad stands, turns toward me and yells, “We got her, Ren. Go get yourself out of those skates.”
Someone yanks on my jersey, pulling me from the glass and I whirl around, ready to shove my fist down their throat. Dave doesn’t flinch, instead he crowds me, shoves me away as he shouts, “Let’s go. Come on. Let’s go.”
I struggle briefly before I realize he’s shoving me toward the tunnel. I hand my stick to a stranger along the way, dropping my gloves on the ground as we hurry along. I have my pads off before we’ve hit the locker room, where I sit in front of a random stall and hurriedly remove my skates, swap out my pants, and yank a shirt over my head.
Dave’s right there with my shoes, and I shove my feet in, half-ass tying them before I’m up and running for the door, Dave on my heels.
By the time I get to the landing, the team doctor is there, and they’re loading her onto a stretcher, preparing to remove her from the stands.
Game play has paused, players, coaches and fans all waiting with bated breath to find out what’s happened, knowing the woman down is someone close to me. The arena is eerily quiet, what little chatter I make out distorted by my heart pounding in my ears.
Cassidy is lifted, carried down the stairs to the main thoroughfare, where they pause. The team doctor is on his phone, speaking a bunch of medical jargon, and then he motions to the men still holding Cassidy. “EMS will meet us at the back entrance.”
