For a moment, I couldn’t speak. Then I composed myself.
“Yes, I enjoy hockey.”
“Well, today is your lucky day!” Mr. Montgomery put in, his eyes gleaming behind his glasses. “There’s never been a better day to be a Heat fan!”
“Why?”
My hands moved restlessly to straighten a stack of math work on my desk.
“The team just contacted Elmsweep Elementary, and we are all getting FREE VIP tickets to one of the upcoming afternoon games!” Mr. Macduff chirped. “Mr. Montgomery and I will of course go along to chaperone.”
Shock vibrated through my body.
What could I say to get out of this? Standardized testing? Rampant lice? Stomach flu?
But the kids were already surrounding me.
“Can we go, Ms. Josephine? Can we go?”
I mean, there really was no other option. I couldn’t have denied a bunch of hockey-mad 5thgraders the chance for VIP tickets.
But I didn’t like this. Didn’t like it at all.
I didn’t want to see Jesse and pretend like he was just another player when he was literally a world champion asshole.
On the day of the game, I had talked myself into thinking this was all a big coincidence.
After all, EVERY class at Elmsweep was going to get to go. It was just that the Heat Office Manager had been very. . .insistentthat my class had to be the first.
We arrived early as the teams were warming up, and the familiar sounds of sharp blades on ice made my stomach twist inside.
For five years that had been the background noise to every homework assignment I completed, every book I read, every word game on my phone.
Hoping against hope that Jesse was out sick, I refused to look at the ice where the hockey players were warming up, instead looking at the tickets we’d been given at the entrance. I shuffled through them, turning automatically to lead the kids all back to the nosebleed section.
“Ma’am, please,” the usher said, waving to the front row. “Theseare your seats.”
“There must be some mistake!” I insisted. “Those are some of the best seats on the rink.”
The man shook his head. “Only the best for you are my orders! If you would follow me, Ms. DeRosa.”
Then he led me and twenty-five 5thgraders to seats directly behind the glass on center ice.
Shit
I was hoping to make myself as inconspicuous as possible, to go to the game and leave without attracting any attention.
But it felt like all eyes were on me as I settled the kids, separating the ones who wanted to punch each other and directing Mr. Montgomery and Mr. Macduff to seats in between the biggest troublemakers.
We were in such sickeningly expensive seats that I even recognized a few celebrities in our section. Suddenly I had a wild fear I’d end up next to Taylor.
Good lord, this game couldn’t be over soon enough, which sucked because all my kids were so excited, here in Heat colors, waving homemade banners and signs. And the game hadn’t evenstartedyet.
I needed to get a hold of myself.
Jesse was in my past. There was no reason to believe I’d have to do anything but see him across the ice.
I could handle that.
