Page 10
They both take their seats and smile up at me. I hope my face doesn’t mirror the embarrassment and dread taking over my body.
“Can you believe we get to sit in the front row?” Odette asks. She looks legitimately thrilled about it.
Closing my eyes for a second, I force myself to take a steadying breath before opening them again. “Yeah, these are great seats.”
I take my seat next to Odette and turn to rummage through my handbag. I don’t actually need anything out of it, I just need a moment to distract myself and gain some composure. Thankfully, we missed the warmup when the players come out and interact with fans. Once the game starts, they’re too focused on the game to pay attention to the people in the stands.
Yes, this is going to be okay. This is fine. I’m fine.
A few minutes before puck drop, the lights in the arena dim, a spotlight shines where the players will come out, and “Thunderstruck” by AC/DC blares through the speakers. As they announce each Eagles player, the crowd goes wild. West is the last one to skate onto the ice and gets the loudest applause.
West was one of the top goal-scorers in the NHL last season, so as much as I hate to admit it, he’s a pretty freaking big deal.
The group of women sitting directly behind us is going wild, whistling and calling West’s name. I roll my eyes in annoyance then peek over my shoulder at the women and see they’re holding large signs. One sign reads, “#22, will you marry me??” another says, “Future Mrs. Kershaw.” There are hearts and red lipstick kisses all over the signs. The women reek of perfume and desperation.
The opposing team, the Raleigh Renegades, are announced with much less fanfare and then the game begins.
During the first period of the game, my body begins to relax. Halfway through the second period, I’m almost feeling normal again. We’re over halfway through and West hasn’t looked this way. And the Jumbotron hasn’t zeroed in on us once. Whew.
The score is 3-1 in favor of the Eagles. Two of the goals were, of course, scored by West. This might make me a horrible person, but I’m praying he doesn’t get a hat trick tonight. I don’t want to listen to the women behind me oohing and ahhing more than they already are.
By the time the third and final period starts, I’m actually enjoying myself. I forgot how much fun it is going to hockey games. The sounds of the blades on the ice, the chill in the air, it’s not only soothing to me but also nostalgic. I haven’t skated since my accident when I was a kid. But maybe I could try skating again, indoors—you can’t fall through the ice indoors, afterall.
How ridiculous was it that I was dreading tonight so much? Like an inch of ice is scary, or Weston Kershaw is going to pick me out of a crowd. Ridiculous.
I’m startled from my thoughts when I hear a loud crash. There’s a sudden commotion in front of me. Two large hockey players have collided against the plexiglass directly in front of our seats.
I blink a few times, feeling stunned. I look at the men tangled up in front of me and meet the all-too-familiar grey eyes of West. His eyes lock on mine and I can see the moment realization dawns on him and he recognizes me.
Everything around me goes silent, and I can hear my pulse beating rapidly in my eardrums. The terrifying sensation of a panic attack begins to make its way throughout my body. All I want to do is run from this building and avoid the embarrassing memories associated with West. My brain instantly goes to the darkest place it can, back to being trapped under the ice. The chill running through my body, the glare of light coming from above the ice, the muffled voice of my brother calling for me.
I can’t seem to move or even blink, and West holds my gaze for what feels like a long, frozen moment in time but was probably like three seconds. However, even three seconds is a long time when you’re in the middle of a fast-paced hockey game.
His opponent easily steals the puck away from him while West stands there looking stupefied. When he finally snaps out of his stupor, he follows his opponent, trying to get the puck back.
The other team manages to keep possession of the puck and scores another goal. The crowd groans, but I’m just sitting there in shock.
My body still feels numb, so I close my eyes and remember the words of my therapist from high school. Count to three and take a deep breath, then repeat until you feel more calm and rational. I breathe in through my nose, then out through my mouth slowly several times.
Odette leans in and whispers, “Are you alright?”
I nod my head yes.
She places a hand on my shoulder, her eyebrows drawn together in concern. “Those guys must’ve really scared you when they crashed into the plexiglass; you look pale.”
“Yeah, ha. It kind of freaked me out. I’ll be fine.” My voice comes out in a whisper.
Odette rubs my shoulder in a comforting gesture, which is what my mom used to do when I was anxious. I find the touch surprisingly comforting considering I don’t know Odette that well.
The game ends and the Eagles manage to win by one point. As soon as the buzzer goes off, indicating the end of the game, I jump up from my seat. I turn to exit our row—the sooner we get to the car, the sooner I can regain some sanity.
“Woah, not so fast!” Madden calls over the noise of the crowd. “I must’ve forgotten to tell you, but the Eagle’s general manager found out we were coming tonight and invited us to meet the team afterward.” He grins, and Odette does an excited little dance.
It takes every ounce of self-control left in my body to force a smile on my face. I’m sure it looks strained, but it’s the best I can muster up right now. I sit back in my seat and internally lecture myself for not driving separately. My car is back at the office and I have no means of escape. I think about texting Noel, but I’m twenty-three years old, I shouldn’t need to be rescued.
CHAPTER FIVE
WEST
