Page 74 of Find Me in the Rain


Font Size:

Alec’s eyes water as he stands up, his knuckles whitening on his helmet. “See you guys soon. Wish me luck.”

I smile. “You’ve never needed luck.”

Alec walks off, immediately being harassed by the paparazzi and fans, and I look down to Jack. His face is in awe as he watches his dad. And I can’t help but laugh at Jack’s team spirit. Cameras flash our way, and I pray that wherever those photos end up, I look relatively presentable. I laugh to myself.

Jack smiles, creasing the paint. He wanted to paint his face, so Char went all out. She admires her work as Josh, Char, Jack and I make our way to our seats. Teal and black face paint, custom Kostelecky jersey, teal-and-black-sprayed hair—the works. Jack was practically squealing when we were getting him ready. I shot a text to Alec with a pic of Jack wearing a jersey with his name on it. He quickly replied.

Perfection. See you after the game. I love you.

Right as we get settled into our seats, the light show begins, and the booming announcer begins listing off the Minnesota Mystics starting lineup.

“This is crazy though, right?” Char shouts to me over the roaring music. “I feel like we were just watching him in his Greyhounds jersey. Now, every person in this place is wearing his last name on their back.”

I quickly scan the crowd around us and am a little shocked to see that hundreds of people are wearing Alec’s jersey, the number sixteen showing on the shoulder of their jerseys.

“It’sinsane,” I say back to her, shell-shocked.

She leans into me, whispering, “And that right there is all yours. None of these puck bunnies will ever get what you have.”

I smile to myself. Huh, I really did steal America’s bachelor.

Deep bass rattles the crowd as the announcer screams, “Are you ready for your Nighthawks starters?!”

The crowd erupts with cheers and chants.

“Here’s your goalie—number 33, Matt MacArthur! At wing, number 72, Brett Burnssss!” the announcer shouts. “Your wing, number 19, Cam Cossssstello!”

The girls beside us scream as Cam barrels onto the ice, pumping his stick in the air.

“Number 42, defenseman, Reed Larinskiiiii!” Char goes crazy next to me, shouting and screaming for Reed. “Number 66, defenseman, Jensen Donnelleyyyy!” He drags parts of their names out, adding to the intensity of the already-electric crowd.

“It’s time to put your hands together for the one, the only, the best center in the NHL, the captain of our New York Nighthawks—number 16, Aleeeec Kosteleckyyyyyy!”

The crowd explodes. Hands are flailing; feet are stomping. I slap my hands onto Jack’s ears as he watches his dad shoot onto the ice, stick high in the air. Vibrations rumble through my feet from the intense noise in the arena.

Charlotte and Josh are cheering along with the crowd.

We made up pretty quickly after I yelled at him when I found out he told Jack that Alec is Jack’s dad. We’ve always been so close that we sat down, got our thoughts and emotions out, hugged it out, and moved on. I did also buy him his favorite dove chocolates to help smooth things over too.

Jack pushes my hands away and screams, “Go, Dad!”

My chest warms.Look where we are right now. Look at how far we have come. A wave of prickles assaults the backs of my eyes. I wish my mom was here with us, she would love to see Alec play. She was always one of his biggest supporters.

Alec skates over to where we are seated, places his glove against the glass, and blows me a kiss. I air-catch it and try to ignore the gasps and oohs exploding around us. As well as the glares and scoffs.

But I can’t ignore the announcer when he says, “Looks like Kostelecky has someone special here. Better get at least two goals for her tonight, Number 16.”

My face burns from the attention.

Charlotte nudges me. “Even I’m a little jealous of you.”

I scoff at her, “You’re literally dating Reed!”

She laughs lightheartedly. “Yeah, but every girl in here wants to be you. And my ego could use a little of that right now.”

“Charlotte, if your ego gets any bigger, you’ll explode.” I nudge her back.

After the national anthem, the lights above the ice turn on, illuminating the arena and all the players. Being up against the glass is intense, and the players look huge. Well, I mean, they are huge, but still.