Page 99 of Pucking Good Girl

I’ve always admired my best friend’s unshakable optimism. “How do you know? People choose the wrong partner all the time.”

“You aren’t people, Talia. You’re one of the smartest women I know, and I have faith in you.”

“Right,” I grumble.

My best friend chuckles in response. “Way to keep those two bad boys on the edge of their skates, though.”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

Sam points at my new Cove Knights jersey. “Your outfit tonight is pure genius.”

Tired of keeping the tally of whose number I wore on game night, I decided to order a custom jersey with their name, Shayba, on the back but no number. To make sure they know where my heart truly is, I decided to paint Macklin’s number nineteen on my left cheek since he’s a left winger. Becks’s number seven is painted on my right cheek because, of course, Becker is a right winger.

“Come on,” Sam says. “Let’s stop at the concession stand. I’ve been dreaming about one of the arena’s hot dogs all week.”

It’s my turn to chuckle. “I swear you have a real obsession with those hot dogs.”

“Because they’re utter perfection, duh.” Sam joins the relatively short line at the concession stand that sells hot dogs. “I don’t know what brand of dogs they use, but they have just the right amount of bite, they’re smooth and they don’t repeat on you after you eat one, like a lot of hot dogs tend to do.”

“After you eat one?” I snort. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you eat just one, sweetie.”

Sam shrugs. “Is it my fault that they always have a buy one get one free promotion before third period and you always fill up on popcorn and never want to have one with me?”

She’s unbelievable. “Well then, we could come back later and I won’t buy any popcorn so I can join you.”

Sam’s eyes widen. “What? No, you get cranky if you don’t eat anything before the game.”

“You know, Sammie, you could have fooled someone else with that cranky excuse, but not me. You always get yourself a hot dog the second we get here. Then you insist on buying me the extra large popcorn because you know I can’t resist it. And it’s not so I don’t get cranky. It’s because you know that when you’re going to say that you’re hungry again and come back to the concession stand, you’ll find the promotion and then get to eat both hot dogs because one was free and it would be a shame to let it go to waste.”

The tips of her ears are on fire when she realizes that I know her too well to fall for her ruse. “I—ok, fine.” She sighs. “I can’t resist these damn hot dogs and I have to get at least three.”

I pull her closer for a side hug. “I’m not shaming you. You just don’t need to go out of your way to get what you want. Do you want three hot dogs? Enjoy them.”

Sam’s lips curl in her typical smart ass smile. “Does that mean that I don’t have to buy you the popcorn anymore?”

“Hell no,” I tease. “If you don’t, I’m gonna get cranky.”

“I swear to God,” Sam giggles. “You’re worse than me.”

I’m not going to argue with that. “That’s why you and I are practically sisters. Remember when we were little, I used to beg my mom to swap Tucker for you?”

“Yeah,” she snorts. “Tucker still gets super offended when someone brings it up.”

“Oh, look. It’s our turn. Hi, can we get one extra large popcorn and one hot dog?”

The woman serving at the stand is busy stacking popcorn buckets by the popcorn machine and has her back to us.

“Hello?” Sam calls when she doesn’t turn.

The other person at the stand finishes serving a customer and apologizes. He has a manager tag pinned on his Cove Knight blue polo shirt. “Sorry for the wait. I swear it’s impossible to find decent trainees these days. Earth to Genevieve. What’s the first rule of customer service? You never keep the customer waiting.”

What did he just call his co-worker?

“I need to go on my break,” a voice I would recognize anywhere whisper-yells. “Right now.”

The manager looks less than impressed. “Absolutely not. You just literally clocked in, and this is one of the busiest times of the night. You can take a break once the game starts. But not between periods, when people come to get drinks and snacks. Now, show me how we greet our customers. Unless you want me to report to the court that you’re not suitable for this program. It’s your choice, Genevieve.”

“Stop saying my name,” she bites out. “I told you to call me, Jennie.”