She smiles wider. “I know, that’s what got me curious. You look frozen, honey.”
“I am. We don’t have hockey in West Virginia so we’re not out in the cold twenty-four seven.”
“I’ll get you the website where I buy jeans that are lined on the inside with Sherpa wool. I only buy a few pairs to get me through the hockey season.”
“Oh, I, uh, I…”
She goes on like I didn’t say a word. “They also have shirts along the same line.” She unzips her jacket and shows me the plaid shirt that’s lined in wool on the inside. “Keeps you fromfreezing half to death. I’m from Texas originally so it took me a long time to get used to how cold it gets here.”
“It’s colder than I thought it would be when I moved here.”
“It’s the lake,” Jenny says, trying to hide her smile. “The wind blows in off the lake and it gets really cold. Wait until it and all the small ponds freeze over. Minnesota winters can be miserable, but I grew up here and wouldn’t trade them for all the hot humid air in the south for anything.”
“I hate the heat.” I huddle deeper into the jacket. “I’d rather be cold than hot any day of the week.”
“My kind of girl.” Jenny bumps my shoulder with hers. “We just have to teach you to dress for the cold. West Virginia winters may be cold, but not near as cold as we get here. Do you plan on staying here after you graduate or going back to West Virginia?”
“No, I’m not going back. Now that my Nana’s not here anymore, there’s nothing for me to go back to. If I fall in love with Minnesota then I’ll stay or find somewhere they get lots of snow in the winter and move there after graduation.”
“Minnesota will give you lots of snow and ice.”
“Can you drive on ice?” This from Hutch’s mom.
“Sure can. My grandma taught me and my brother both to drive on ice.”
Kathleen smiles and sips on her straw. She looks to have gotten a pop instead of hot chocolate. Or at least I think it’s pop. I doubt its beer because I’ve seen people with beer bottles in their hands.
Music starts playing and a team skates out onto the ice. Their jerseys are orange and blue, but that’s about all I notice. Are hockey shirts jerseys or are they called something else? We’re sitting right behind where the team sits on the ice so I can see pretty well, but it’s hard to distinguish anything when they move to the opposite end of the ice.
Then our school song comes on and the entire place erupts into chaos. It’s so loud I think maybe my eardrums ruptured. Jenny hauls me up into a standing position and she’s screaming along with the rest of them, shouting Dylan’s name. Christa is the only one besides me who is behaving like they have some sense. Even Kathleen is shouting.
I guess hockey is as big of a deal in Minnesota as football is in West Virginia. Who would have guessed it?
Our team skates out on the ice and the only thing I really pay attention to is how tall the guys are. Most of them are well over six feet. There are only one or two who might be five ten or so. Are all hockey players tall? Maybe it’s a criteria to play the sport. I have no clue.
They skate a lap around the ice, smiling and waving to the fans before taking up positions on the benches in front of us. Everyone seems to love them. I wonder if the same can be said for the football games here? Do the fans go this wild over football too or is it really just a hockey school?
I’m startled out of my thoughts when there’s a bang directly in front of us. Hutch is grinning along with Dylan as they tap their sticks against the clear shielding between us and the ice. He looks happy and I smile back at him. It’s the polite thing to do. I can hear Nana telling me to remember my manners.
Dylan blows a kiss to Jenny and then they skate back to the team who’s starting to sit on the benches. Dylan and Hutch both remain standing.
“Hutch and Dylan are both on the first line,” Jenny explains. “They get to play first. It’ll be fast and hard to understand in the beginning, but the more plays you watch, the more you’ll understand it.”
And she isn’t wrong about it being fast. They fly across the ice, the little black disc thingy moving so fast, I can’t keep up with it. I barely register who is who. It’s like a big blur. I onlyknow when Hutch scores because his mother screams his name and jumps up and down. Christa and Jenny both yank me up when either Hutch or Dylan does something special. I hold on tight to the hot chocolate to keep it from spilling not because I want to drink it, but because it’swarm.
“What do you think?” Christa asks during a lull.
“I can’t make heads or tails of it.”
She laughs. “That’s okay. I felt the same way my first game. We’ll rewatch the game tomorrow in slow motion and I’ll explain it all.”
Before I can tell her I’m not interested, Jenny jumps in the conversation. “I’ll ask Dylan and Hutch to come over. They’re probably better at explaining than we are.”
“Good idea,” Christa agrees.
The last push on the game begins and the entire stadium goes quiet. There’s not a sound except for the skates slicing the ice as each team tries to take control. They’re tied two to two. I’m guessing whoever wins this final play, wins the game. Or they stay tied maybe? Or do they go into overtime or something?
“Hutch has the puck,” his mother whispers, her voice anxious. I only hear her because it’s so quiet.
