Getting in the right rhythm.
Which is pretty on script all things considered.
“And the tunes?” I curiously inquire on a small lean forward.
“Warmies, it was all about ‘Shake Your Groove Thing’.”
“Gotta show ‘em how you do it, huh?”
Light chortles are accompanied by an arrogant nod.
“And game time?”
“Reunited.”
“’Cause it’s gonna feel so good?”
“Only one thing feels better, Gillybean.” My suddenly stunned silent nature grants him the smooth segue he needs to skate away. “And I look forward to it post-game…”
Crimson coats my cheeks to the point I have no choice but to glance over my shoulder in hopes of catching my composure.
Unfortunately for me, I find a pair of eyes on me, I wasn’t expecting.
Shit!
“Can we go get snackies?” Bronny asks upon his return to my side. “Or should we wait ‘til post puck drop?” He barely lets a single beat pass before investigating further. “Or are we waitin’ to see what your ‘rents grab?”
Too many questions.
Not enough spare brain energy to process.
Not until I deal with something more pressing first.
“Um…” an abrupt, nervous hiccup further illustrates my current discomfort, “why don’t you go ahead and get to our,” the tick jumps into the conversation again, “seats. And we’ll,” a third, “decide from there.”
“You ain’t comin’?”
“I,” my body jerks due to the action, “need to,” once more my frame rocks, “have a quick,” two noisier ones escape back-to-back, “chat with someone,” I’m betrayed what I doubt is the final time, “first.”
Rather than let him ask for more information, I offer him the best reassuring smile I can in hopes he’ll simply follow my suggestion.
And he does by asking for our seat numbers as well as making his way to them.
Getting from where we were to whom I need to meet sends us in opposite directions; however, it gives me ample time to steady my breathing and give my brain a mental mouthwash.
My arrival at the end of the aisle near where security is checking tickets to help with seating is immediately acknowledged by the individual I came to see. “Gillian.”
“Bull.” I attempt to casually fold my arms across my chest. “Shouldn’t you already be in the med room?”
“Called ahead.” He slides one hand into his black scrub’s pockets. “Told them I had a family thing and was running a bit behind.”
His family thing now stands to be the reason my family thing may end up happening on a night it shouldn’t!
A nonchalant pointed finger is motioned towards the area I just left. “Does Blanc know?”
The loud hiccup that escapes sadly presents the team dentist with his answer before my words.
Fordaytimedramasake,there has got to be away to stop me from doing that!
