Page 115 of The Home Grown
“Mike Betts,” I say. “Uh, Bettsy.”
I’m not sure what I was expecting, but I didn’t expect her face to light up in the way it does. Her smile widens, and she steps forward a pace, almost squealing with delight as she speaks.
“You’re Ellie, right?”
Oh, crap. She knows who I am.
“Um, yeah,” I say.
She stoops to pick the box up.
“It’s nice to meet you,” she says. “I’ve heard so much about you—and I’m—oh, sorry.” She holds out a hand, balancing the box on her hip with considerable effort. “I’m Jen. Do you want to come inside and catch the end of practice?”
I stare at her, wondering if she’s kidding—waiting for her to laugh. But her expression remains warm and neutral, and I take a second to realise she’s serious. She’s deadly serious.
“P-practice?” I say.
“Yeah,” she says. “They’re almost done but?—”
“Practice … like the team practice?”
“Yeah,” she says, a chuckle following. “The guys are great. And I’m sure they’ll be excited to meet you.”
And the anxiety that’s been simmering just below the surface kicks up a notch—teetering on the edge of a full-blown panic attack.
There’s no way I can go in there and seepractice.How many players are on a team? Ten? Fifteen?Twenty?I mean, meeting Hutch last night was nerve-wracking enough and there was just one of him. Imagine a whole…
“Come on, I’m sure he’d love to see you.” She gestures towards the double doors and moves towards them, swiping a keycard on a panel on the wall before pulling the door open and holding it ajar. “Are you coming?”
I flick my eyes between Jen and the door, then I look back at the pavement. An escape. A way out.
But then Mike’s grin surfaces in my mind and my stomach clenches.
Mike.Surely the moment of discomfort is worth it for Mike? Besides, I’m going to have to meet his teammates at some point and there’s a warmth about Jen that’s oddly familiar—welcoming in a way that quiets the nerves buzzing through me.
And before I know it, my legs are moving.
“I—I guess,” I say, and I follow her lead.
She leads me down an open corridor, past several rooms and notice boards, only stopping when we reach the players benches’ where she sets the box down at the far end before turning back towards me.
“Sorry, I should have warned you about the smell—I’m sure you’ll get used to it.”
I’d love to say I hadn’t noticed, but there’s a lingering stench in the air. Sweat and cold and—I turn towards the direction of the voices.
“I think they’re almost done, but—I see Bettsy there.” Jen points towards a cluster of guys on the ice.
I don’t spot him at first, but I see the group Jen’s referring to. Three guys on the blue line, waiting their turn. One of them says something and the others laugh, and that’s when Mike adjusts himself slightly, so I catch sight of him.
And that familiar feeling fills my stomach. The feeling I used to associate with severe dislike, but now, I couldn’t imagine it being anything other than the complete opposite.
My stomach twists—like it’s turning upside down and around—and my pulse thunders in my ears.
I lock my attention on Mike, and without warning, he bursts into action, skating hard and fast across the ice towards the opposite blue line, skidding to a halt before doubling back.
“Are you okay?” Jen says. “You look a little pale. Is it the cold? Do you need?—”
“Uh, yeah, sorry. I’m fine, really. I think I had a little too much coffee,” I say.
