Asshole refs.
I tried to watch the rest of the game in peace, but I felt like both refs kept looking in my direction.
At first I thought maybe they were just trying to see if the net in front of me was on right…
Butnope…
As the play came to my end of the ice, I noticed blue eyes looking directly atme…
After the game’s final buzzer sounded, I waited in the arena for a bit so I wouldn’t run into the other parents. I didn’t mind waiting. I loved sitting in this arena alone, feeling like it was just me and the ice. It was my happy place. It was calming. I wished I could’ve skated on ice like this– all to myself– instead of with the group of girls I always had to share with.
When Craig, our rink manager, started to roll onto the ice on the zamboni, he lifted an arm to wave hello to me, and I saluted him back– that’s how most of the arena regulars greeted him.
I took that as a sign to push out of my seat and head to the lobby.
The lobby of the Ice League was always hectic, but I found peace in the crazy. No one was looking at me when there were kids tackling each other on the ground while playing mini-sticks. I quickly found a corner to myself and played on my phone while I waited for Duke to emerge from the elevator. The NHL side of the Ice League locker rooms were all located on the lower floor of the rink, and while the older kids could walk up the stairs with their bags, the younger boys couldn’t handle that kind of weight yet.
I watched as it felt like the entire team had come and gone, but Duke was still a no-show. I started to worry when his coaches emerged from the elevator and there was still no sign of him.
I bit my lip in indecision for a minute, then moved forward to start my search for him.
I didn’t make it far though– the elevator dinged open as soon as I reached it, revealing a sad looking Duke hanging his head.
My heart squeezed at seeing him so upset and I opened my arms to give him a hug.
He quickly looked around first making sure none of his teammates were around to see him accepting a hug from his big sister, then he sniffled and walked into meslightly.
“Hey, it’s okay, just one rough game. And you were doing amazing before that little scrap,” I said as I patted his back. “Let’s go, bud.”
He sucked in a deep breath, looking like he was willing himself not to cry, and wordlessly handed me his sticks. We always took turns holding his hockey bag and sticks while we walked. It was our little compromise since I refused to drive and instead made us walk all the way home.
We usually talked about the game as we trudged down the rink’s long ramp and through the slushy snow, but today he seemingly wanted to avoid that topic.
“Have any homework to do this weekend?” I asked him, trying to get his mind on something else.
“Not much. Just some math. Luke’s gonna get in a crap ton of trouble on Monday,” Duke filled me in. “Ms. Henry caught him cheating on his math test and said she was gonna call his mom after the weekend.”
“Well, that’s nice of her to give him a nice weekend atleast.”
He blew out a breath. “Yeah… because Luke’s mom’s gonna kill him. She might not let him come to practice next week.”
“I don’t blame her,” I ruffled his sweaty hair. “School comes first, remember? And cheating’s a slippery slope.”
“Well, Coach says if you’re not cheating, you’re not trying…” he gave me a sly smile, like he was testing me.
I gasped. “That’sbad!”
He cackled at that. “I knew you’d saythat.”
“Cheaters never win and winners never…” I trailed off when I noticed an old, beat up, brown truck starting to drive toward us. We were still crossing the rink’s large parking lot that stretched all the way to the main road and was usually used for drive-in movies during the summers. I instinctively pushed Duke behind me and paused, waiting for them to drive past us… but they didn’t.
Instead, they slowed to a stop next to us.
I felt my heart beating hard against my chest as Duke clutched onto my jacket and tried to move to my side. I knew he hated being treated like a kid. He was practically up to my shoulder in height and it went to his head, but he was only ten.
“Everything’s fine,” I whispered to him, trying to sound firm. “It’s probably just a parent from therink.”
He set his face in a tough grimace and kept his eyes on the car.
