Page 57 of Wildcat
I talked to my mom almost every day on the phone, but rarely my dad. Mom would fill me in on what he was up to and that somehow felt good enough at the time.
“And, there’s this photographer Lindsey that works for the Wildcats. She’s incredible and she offered to talk with me and tell me about how she worked her way up without a degree.”
Mom frowns. I’ve broken the happy truce by inadvertently mentioning school.
Her mouth opens and closes. I’ve rarely rendered her speechless. Before she can find her words and get deep into lecture mode, I place a hand over hers. “I know it isn’t what you wanted, but I want to be a photographer and I think I’m pretty good at it.”
“You could still be a photographer and get a degree. Just in case.”
“Just in case what? I can’t find a job or pay my bills? I’d rather make less money and have a job I love than fall back on some career that makes me miserable.”
She sighs. That deep, disheartened sigh that mothers perfect over the years.
“I’m sorry if you’re disappointed, but I’m not. I’m going to find a job and save up so I can move out and start my own business or I might like to work for a newspaper or a real estate company. I don’t know yet, but that’s the point of taking time and doing all of these favors.”
The buzzer sounds and the players from both teams head for their respective benches.
“I don’t have it all figured out,” I confess. “But I know this is right for me.”
We stand for the national anthem. I find number fourteen on the bench facing the flag, stick in hand, swaying side to side like he’s too amped up to hold still.
Mom hums along, a quirky trait that used to embarrass me when I was younger. Tonight, I join in. She glances over and smiles, and I know everything is going to be okay with us. She might not agree with me, but she’ll still cheer me on.
We take our seats as the teams get ready for the puck drop.
“So, you aren’t pregnant then?” she asks as the first lines skate out.
“What?” I ask a little louder than I intended, causing several people nearby to cast a curious glance. Only for a second though because the action starts.
“I didn’t think so. Especially after seeing Cadence. That girl is lit up like a Christmas tree with that pregnancy glow. But I knew something was up with you. You haven’t been acting like yourself since the breakup with Rhyse.”
“I’m not pregnant,” I whisper.
“Will you at least consider finishing your degree? Not because I think you’ll fail and need a fallback plan, but as an insurance policy. A lot of companies won’t even let you through the door if you don’t have a degree in something. I’m not saying it’s right, but it’s the way it is. If you have a degree, then you’ll always know that you have options.”
It’s a more reasonable request than I was expecting, so I nod. “Yes, Mom, I will think about it.”
My uncle joins us halfway through the first period. Mom turns her chatter toward him, and I finally get to focus my full attention on the game. Or more accurately on Leo.
Either I forgot how exciting hockey can be on home ice or Leo is winning me over. He races down the ice, a determined and eager look on his face. I know another time that Leo Lohan had that same expression, and it was naked with me.
Sweat makes the ends of his hair darker and curl up at the back of his helmet. His shift ends and he comes off the ice, chest heaving. We lock eyes and for several seconds, I think I stop breathing.
Holy pucking shit. If I thought I was going to watch him play all season and be completely unaffected, I was seriously mistaken.
20
DON’T BRING YOUR LOGIC AND REASON TO THE PARTY
SCARLETT
After the game is over,I tell my mom I’m meeting up with some friends from work and say bye to her and my uncle. I hang out in the lobby, trying to decide if I’m really going to go out with Leo.
The Wildcats won, five to zero, thanks to a little help from Leo with one goal and an assist, so I think there’s a very good chance he’ll be celebrating. If not, or if I decide against this insanity, I’ll be taking a very spendy Uber ride home or hoping I can find Dad before he leaves.
I’m pacing the marble floor when a text pops up from Leo,Still here? Want to hang out with a bunch ofawesomehockey players?
Oh god. I can’t seem to help the big smile on my lips.Awesome is debatable. I’m here.
