Page 26 of Emergency Exit
“I like sports,” said Harper. “I hate jumbotrons.”
“Well, that is… unique.” He looked like he was thinking it over. “Like jumbotrons attacking or just in general?”
“Being on one.”
“Ah! That I can understand.”
They reached the front of the line, and Ash flashed his phone at the ticket taker. Harper waited her turn to be waved through the metal detector and then hurried to catch up with Ash who was waiting on the other side.
“You don’t have to worry,” he said, tucking her arm into his. “Clyde hosts these things because he’s hockey-obsessed and likes to feel like his VIP box is worth it. I’ve never seen the jumbotron guys ever focus on it before. We just hang out, have some drinks and snacks, cheer for the team with the intimidatingSon their jerseys, and chat people up.”
Harper felt her panic ease a fraction. Ash was right. Cooper had paid for the jumbotron last time. She was being irrational. There was no way the same thing could happen to her twice.
But even after being introduced around, Harper still found the steady thrum of the crowd overwhelming and ducked into the ladies’ room to escape. At least the VIP restrooms were quieter. She sat in the stall and took a few moments to steady herself. But her phone vibrated as she stepped into the baby changing station area.
Two other women from Clyde’s party were there ahead of her, fixing their hair into careful ponytails that went through theirballcaps in the ubiquitous sign of sports style.
Harper, seriously, we need to talk.
Her pulse rate jumped, and then Harper became angry. As usual, Cooper started a conversation in a way that made her feel as if she were in trouble. She pressed herself against the wall as she composed a reply. Harper didn’t think the women would be bothered by her presence, but she hated taking up unnecessary space.
There’s nothing to talk about. I said I would get you the money, and I will.
We should formalize matters.
My promise isn’t good enough?
Harper wanted to throw her phone across the room. Cooper had always liked things written down and spelled out. And she’d always found it nitpicky and punitive. They’d broken up. Why did she still have to put up with his obsessions?
Just call me, and we can talk.
“Problems, honey?” asked the woman at the mirror. She looked about forty, and Harper admired her effortlessly casual chic look in a cream sweater and jeans. “You look big mad at whoever’s texting you.”
“It’s my ex. He wants to talk.”
“Oh, fuck no,” said the other woman. She was Asian and wearing a pink hat and a tucked Kraken jersey. “Sorry, none of my business.”
“I’m open to advice,” said Harper. “I don’t have to take it if I don’t like it.”
“Well, in that case, I will just remind you thatnois a complete sentence. Thefuckis completely optional, although I personally prefer it.”
“It’s none of my business either,” said the woman by the mirror. “But I will second that advice.”
Harper laughed. Then she frowned at her phone as shevisualized sending that message. “Why is one word harder to type than six?”
“Oh… Patriarchy, probably,” said the woman at the mirror, swiping on some lipstick.
“Because as women,niceis our social currency, and saying no is never nice,” said the other woman, checking that she’d gotten the tuck on the jersey right.
“Like I said,” said the woman in the sweater. “Besides, you’re with Ash Valkyrie. What can this guy possibly have on him?”
The woman was absolutely right. Even fake Ash was better than real Cooper. Making up her mind, Harper typed the two letters and hit send.
No.
“Thanks,” said Harper, dropping her phone in her purse.
“Bathroom squad for the win,” said the woman at the mirror. The two women grinned at each other and high-fived, which made Harper laugh. They all walked back to the VIP box together, and for once, Harper felt like part of the in-crowd.
