Page 20 of Left on Base

Callie points to the guy who smashes his stick against the glass, making me jump. He smiles at her, his breath fogging up the barrier. “He made eye contact with me. We’re basically in love, babes.”

He looked at her. Or us. I don’t know, but apparently that’s all it took for Callie to be in love. “You don’t even know his name.”

“Doesn’t matter. He wants to marry me and have my babies.” She unwraps her eighteen-dollar chicken sandwich, the paper crinkling over the sound of blade-on-ice and warmup shots pinging off the posts. “You can’t tell me any different.”

“Actually, I can.” I stare at her sandwich. I can’t believe she paid that much, but after stealing a bite—warm bread and perfectly seasoned chicken melting in my mouth—it’s worth fourteen dollars. Not eighteen. Don’t be silly.

Callie points at the player circling the goal, his skates leaving little snow trails behind him. “Nope. He’s so pretty.”

“Well, unless Mr. Hockey Player grew a uterus, there’s a problem with your theory.”

It takes her about thirty seconds to get it. “Ohhh. Yeah.” She waves her hand around. “You know what I mean.”

“I’m not sure I do.”

She sets her sandwich down and sighs, holding her stomach. “I’m full.”

Callie’s like a toddler. She snacks all day. Being an athlete, she eats constantly, but never finishes anything unless it’s a Little Debbie cake hidden under her bed.

“You paid eighteen dollars for that,” I gasp as the arena lights dim and the announcer’s voice booms through the speakers. “Finish it.”

“You sound like my mom.” She hands it to me, eyes fixed on the rink. “You can have the rest.”

This is why I never buy my own food at stadiums. I eat what Callie can’t finish.

After taking a drink of her soda—the one she paid eight dollars for—she glances around at the crowd, the sea of blue Kraken jerseys surrounding us. “Where’s Brynn? She said she’d meet us here.”

“I don’t know, but when is she ever on time?” I look over my shoulder at the aisle but can’t spot anyone with all the people standing. We’re already two minutes into the first period when the goal horn blares, so loud it rattles my teeth.

As we’re cheering with the rest of the arena, Callie points to her right. “Oh, there she is. Who’s with her?”

I look up and I swear to all things holy, my heart jumps through my chest. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“What?” Callie looks back at Brynn, who’s now about five feet from us, trying to make her way through the crowd hitting the glass at the goal the Kraken scored.

Brynn and I lock eyes and she has this I-don’t-know-what-to-do-now look on her face.

“Ohhh,” Callie says, whipping her head back to me. “Uhh, what do we do?”

“I don’t know.”

Deep breaths. Deep fucking breaths.

Do you know who Brynn’s roommate is?

Mmm. If you don’t, you’re about to find out.

“Sorry I’m late.” Brynn shakes her head, as if she doesn’t know how it happened, and gives me a half, please-don’t-kill-me smile. “I brought Inez.”

Yep.ThatInez. Fuck my life, seriously.

“Oh my gosh,” Callie says first, her smile awkward and forced. “It’s nice to finally meet you. We have chemistry together.”

“Oh, yeah. We do.” Inez smiles and flinches as another body check rattles the glass. She looks completely out of place, like someone dropped a library student into a mosh pit. “Nice to meet you.”

Brynn moves past Callie and squeezes between us, bringing the scent of rain from outside. “Okay, listen. She was sad and I had no choice. She basically followed me.”

“What could she possibly be sad about?” I snap, whispering back to Brynn. My cheeks burn and I can tell my blood pressure is rising. Now I’m panicking. What if she talks to me? What if she says his name?

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