“Too many famous people in one place!” Dorian yells. “Can’t handle it!”
Half my team goes to fawn over my parents—Dad might be an absolute legend, but Mom is still Lucia Russo, Olympic medalist and damn near legendary herself—and the other half surrounds my sisters and Nova.
There’s too many people talking at once, and it’s only getting louder as fans start to filter in, some of our classmates shouting and chanting at us on their way by, others stopping to openly gape at my family. Just when I think all attention is off me, I catch Cauler looking this way.
I am never going to get used to seeing him in a suit. It catches me off guard every time. All the blacks and grays, with a tie I’d like to pull on. Get him back for all the times he’s led me around by my clothes. He gives me that same shy smile that makes me want to die every time.
“Don’t tell me Coach was right, Terzo,” he says. His voice sounds off. Like he’s holding something back. I don’t blame him, considering the company. “You sick?”
“I’m fine,” I say.
“Which is why you’re so pale.”
“I’m extremely white, Cauler, this isn’t new.”
“The greenish undertones are.”
I have to stop myself from jabbing him in the arm, because it would come across a lot less bro and a lot more boyfriend. The crowd starts moving toward the rink as the buzzer sounds at the end of warm-ups, swallowing us and putting bodies between us.
Mom and Dad find me in the mass of people, Mom hooking her arm through mine and Dad putting a hand on my shoulder. “Close with Caulfield?” he asks.
My heart skips, but I keep calm on the outside. “Not really. He just likes to chirp me.”
“Sounds like a distraction.”
I scoff. “Not even close.”
“He’s allowed to have friends, Junior,” Mom says. I can almost hear the eye roll in her voice, and I have never felt closer to her. She rubs my back before they step up to the row behind my team.
Not gonna lie, I’m a little disappointed that I have Barbie and Dorian between me and Cauler. But it’s for the best. No way I’d survive forty-plus minutes knocking elbows on the arm rest with him, inhaling cinnamon and coconut. The lights dim before I even get to sit, my team surging to their feet as the women’s team lines the bench. The announcer names off the starters as they race out onto the ice to stand at the blue line.
“Hell yeah, Delilah!” Nicolette shouts. I give my own whooping cheer, and Delilah smiles in our direction.
Watching her play hockey and playing myself are two entirely different experiences. Watching has me at the edge of my seat, jumping up and yelling every five seconds, holding my face in my hands after every impossible save by the Royals’ goalie, groaning in frustration as Delilah’s tip is blocked by a diving defender. I’m on my feet a second before the puck crosses the goal line for us and slumping in my seat when it’s the opposite.
Delilah gets an assist in the first period, and during intermission Dorian leans forward and says, “Yo, Terzo, bet you twenty bucks Delilah destroys you in points tonight.”
“Why would I take a losing bet?” I call back.
Delilah’s behind the net early in the second, eyes up, waiting for someone to get open. She passes it off to the left and slides around to the right. The defense takes their eyes off her, and I have my fists clenched in front of me, halfway out of my seat. The net’s wide-open for her, the pass right to her stick, the play perfectly executed and the goal easy. I jump as high as I can, fists thrown in the air, throat going raw from how loud I scream.
I turn to Barbie without thinking and he’s just as excited as me, giving me a high five that I have to reach for and makes my hand sting. I high-five all my sisters that I can reach in the row behind us, and when Nova wraps her arms around my shoulders from behind, I lean back into her and hold her hands.
My whole team is going nuts. I don’t know when they all became such huge fans of Delilah, but I’ve never been more proud in my life. I want to stay and watch the rest of her game, but halfway through the second, we have to leave to get ready for our own.
Dad claps me on the back, Mom gives me a quick hug, but I’m sure the one thing all the boys home in on is the way Nova kisses me on the cheek before I go.
* * *
THEY’RE ALL OVER me as soon as we’re in the locker room.
“You said you weren’t with her!” Kovy shouts. Ugh, god, kill me. I glance at Barbie, waiting for him to step in and say something about his constant texting with Nova, but he shakes his head slightly. Apparently that’s a secret for now.