Page 178 of The Home Grown
“She’s trying to backpedal now,” Jen adds. “Look—she’s posted again. ‘We all make mistakes. I was hurting.’”
“Oh, give over,” Kelly mutters. “You don’t get to hide behind heartbreak when you deliberately lie.”
“Yeah, and people are using your hashtag,” Jen says, scrolling down. “There’s a whole different vibe on this forum tonight.”
Jen’s right. All I can see is line after line of ‘#justiceforBettsy’.
“About bloody time,” Tom yells above the noise, but he’s not talking about Rochelle, he’s signalling towards Johnny Koenig, who finally steps out onto the ice. If I didn’t know any better … I’d think he and Johnny were a thing, not Johnny and Kelly.
And as if on cue, Johnny turns towards us and offers Tom a wave.
But behind the team captain, I spot Mike, moving towards the line at centre ice, and then I spot someone moving towards him with intent; like they are purposefully meeting there for a quick chat.
Is that normal? Do they do that? Fraternising with the enemy during a semi-final game…
But then I clock who it is. My breath catches. The player stops on the red line and turns at an angle and I notice the name on his jersey.
Langdon.
“Oh, my God,” I say.
Rick.
He’s here.
I gape at Mike—though he can’t see me, so instead, I turn to Jen, nudging her arm.
“Rick is here,” I say.
She looks up from her phone, and a second later, her facemirrors mine.
“I thought Vicky said he quit?” she says.
“Well, yeah. I did too.”
I glance back at the ice—at the way Rick nods, and the way Mike claps him on the shoulder before skating away.
And I know.
That’s why Mike asked me for his number. He didn’t want to ‘show him what he was missing’—he wanted to ‘show him what he’s missing’.
And that’s just one of the many reasons I love him.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
BETTSY
I’m racingthrough the concourse, desperate to find her as quick as I can. There are people everywhere, bodies blocking my way, forcing me to skid to a stop on several occasions … and that’s until someone notices me.
“Hey, hey—it’s Betts…”
“Bettsy, can we have a photo?”
“Bettsy! Hey, can we grab a photo?”
“Congratulations on the win, Bettsy … how are you feeling about the final?”
I let the fans take a few pictures, posing in such a way so I can make a quick exit … right where I’ve spotted the jackets. The cluster of matching jackets and the number ‘6’ on the back of Ellie’s.
