Page 100 of Hockey Player Seeking Fan

“That’s what I’m fucking talking about!” the guy in front of me says. “Light the lamp! Light the lamp, baby!”

I look over at Sabrina, and she shrugs.

“He just got a goal,” Wes explains.

“Who?” I say, nervous that it’s the other team.

“Your man,” he grins. “Tyler.”

“Oh, thank God for that. Are they winning?”

“It’s close,” he says. “It’s still anyone’s game.”

“Oh. Oh, no.” I’m nervous, and I feel like I could throw up. I just don’t know what to do. And I feel like if he loses, maybe it’s my fault. Maybe he’s been so sidetracked by me and everything that’s been going on that he hasn’t been able to concentrate.

“It’s going to be okay,” Sabrina says.

“I can’t watch this. I want to throw up.” I stand up and head out of the room and go to the restroom.

I know I should be there. I know I should watch. I know I should cheer him on. If he looks into the stands and I’m not there, I’ll feel incredibly guilty. But my heart is in my throat.

What if he loses? It will be my fault. I love him, and I want him to win so badly, but my willing it isn’t going to make it happen.

I walk into a stall and take a seat. I take a few deep breaths. And then I do what I do when I get nervous: I grab my earbuds out of my bag and put them in my ears. I grab my phone, press play, and close my eyes. I just listen to music.

I’m grateful that there are multiple toilets in this restroom, so if anyone’s waiting, they’re not just waiting on me. I don’t know how many songs I listen to before I realize I’ve been in there a long time.

I stand up, flush the toilet just in case anyone’s listening, and step outside.

My jaw drops as I realize there are ten women in line.

“Fuck.”

“Hurry up, bitch,” a blonde says.

“Sorry,” I say, rubbing my stomach. “You know how it is.”

She rolls her eyes and heads into the stall.

I walk over and wash my hands.

“Fuck, that was a game,” I hear someone say.

“I didn’t think they were going to pull it out.”

“Fuck. You know people are going to get in trouble tonight.”

My stomach rumbles, and my heart clenches. The game’s over. I missed it. And I don’t know who won.

I’m a horrible girlfriend. I’m a?—

“There you are!” Sabrina says, rushing over to me. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I just… was so nervous. What happened? Who won?”

I close my eyes and then open them again.

There’s a wide smile on her face, and I can feel my heart racing.