Page 11 of Colossal
Should I have worked out a plan for after the game with Marlow?
Damn it. I’m so new at this. I have no idea what I’m doing. I asked her to come to the game, but that’s where my inspiration was born and died. Will she stick around, or will she just leave and go home without seeing me? How is she getting here? Getting home?
I’m going to be a better boyfriend starting tomorrow.
My only excuse is I didn’t see her coming. Like, at all. But excuses are for losers.
I’ve got a girl to take care of now.
I’m still obsessing over this when we take the ice. I assume my position in front of the goal and get down on all fours to stretch, but I’m searching for Marlow in the crowd. It’s a high school arena, so it’s not huge. Just a few sets of bleachers. Not to mention, I know everyone in attendance at the game, from my teammates’ parents to fellow students. I should easily be able to spot her. I don’t, though.
My chest starts to tighten with all the unknowns.
Did she get caught sneaking out?
Why does she have to sneak out when she’s eighteen?
Did she already realize I’m not good enough for her?
The buzzer sounds to signal the end of warmups, and half the team leaves the ice, our opponents sizing us up, preparing for the puck drop. I sneak one final look up into the stands and Christ—there she is. Wearing a red turtleneck tucked into a white skirt, Marlow takes a seat in the front row of the center bleachers and blows me a kiss.
My heart squeezes up into my mouth.
I blow a kiss back at her, but it’s basically just me hitting myself in the facemask with my glove and awkwardly waving my stick. Nonetheless, she beams back at me. In fact, she looks at nothingbutme the entire game. I don’t even think she’s watching the puck at all. Throughout the entire first period, every time I glance over at Marlow, she’s watching me with an expression of pure bliss on her face. This can’t be my reality, can it?
It's during the second period that things take a turn for the worse.
I really should have known it was only a matter of time before some motherfucker tried to hit on her. She’s stunning and fresh-faced and surrounded by a celestial glow of light.Of course, some guy in a letterman jacket sits down beside her and leans too close, holding up his phone. Probably asking for her Snapchat handle or phone number. My stomach gurgles with acid, possessiveness spearing up into my throat like molten metal. And it doesn’t settle at all, even when she shakes her head and ignores the guy. Because he doesn’t go away. He persists, making a grab for her hand.
It's a good thing we’re winning and the puck is on the other side of the ice, because I proceed to have an out-of-body experience. My helmet comes off and hits the ice with a violent crack. I’m skating full speed at the glass in front of Marlow before I register my own actions. I throw myself up against it with as much force as I can muster, which is a whole hell of a lot, and the resulting crash is like two buses colliding.
“MINE,” I roar, looking Letterman Jacket in the eye.
Everyone in the bleachers, including my target, jumps and screams.
Everyone but Marlow.
She doesn’t even flinch.
But her chest is rifling up and down, her mouth parted in surprise.
Regret slices into me like a knife.
Oh God, did I finally succeed in convincing her I’m scary?
No one else needs convincing, that’s for sure. I’ve cleared the entire section of bleachers, students, parents and faculty seemingly running for their lives, until all that remains is Marlow, who sits wide eyed with her hands folded in her lap.
“Colossal!” Garrett shouts, along with my team. And three coaches. “Get back in the fucking net!”
With no choice but to return to the game, I slide back into goal, just in time to block a shot. I’m silently willing the matchup to end, though, so I can apologize to Marlow for ruining her very first hockey game.
Chapter 6
Marlow
That. Was. Incredible.
My boyfriend is an impenetrable wall.
