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Casper likes doing it himself.
Frankie
I read it’s safer to just leave it alone and monitor it.
Thor
Oh, he’s been monitoring it all right.
Logan
How much do you have left to do?
Two more spots. Can we please return to the hockey game now?
Thor
What method are you using for removal?
I’m carving it out.
Thor
Need help with cleanup?
No.
Kelly
If you show me how, I can help.
Logan
No you can’t.
Okay. Bring a sign. Cheer a lot. Anything else?
Thor
When the puck goes in the net, it’s called a touchdown.
The arena is deafening. Between the sound of skates slicing into hard ice, sticks clapping, and the crowd losing their fucking minds every time the puck drops, I can barely hear Micky.
The smell of the ice has always been a welcome one. The cold, slightly metallic aroma, like ozone, reminds me of my childhood, getting dragged along to my brother’s hockey practices and games. Squished between my parents while munching on a treat from the concession stand. My knee bounces on the concrete and I lean forward slightly as Rhys jumps the boards for his shift. Number five. I grin, proud of him as he barrels after the puck with precision and ferocity. That’s my big brother.
“God, I forgot how good he is,” I say, leaning toward Micky and yelling above the noise.
Micky raises an amused brow. “You say that like you’re surprised.”
“I mean . . .” I shrug. “I knew he was good, but it’s been a while since I’ve watched him play from the glass.” Usually if I go to one of the games, I watch from the WAGs box, but seeing it up close really heightens the action of the game. Instincts are quicker, the skaters are faster, the checks into the boards hit harder.
Guilt presses into my psyche, familiar but duller than it used to be. I’m here now, I tell myself. Micky nudges me. “I’ve missed this. Missed you being here.”
“Me too,” I reply earnestly.
“So . . .” She draws out the word. “What time is Casper supposed to get here?”
I huff a small laugh and direct my gaze back to the ice, but my cheeks still feel hot. I glance up at the jumbotron with the time displayed in the corner. “Any minute now, actually,” I reply.
