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She lifts her shirt to show me a tattoo on her ribcage, just below her bra, of Noah’s name. “He did it first, but I’m still counting it as an example for this, especially since doing this made him propose.”

“Okay, well, let’s go then.”

Meredith puts a hand on my shoulder. “Are you sure? I mean, I know I’m working the peer pressure angle here, but if you don’t think you can do it, then you can totally just be waiting at his house.”

“I’m sure.” I’m willing to try for him.

Hopefully it goes well because Marc doesn’t know it yet, but he’s supposed to take me home. Meredith talks about tennis the entire drive to the arena. Normally, I’d be able to listen and participate, but I want to throw up. I doubt she’ll want to continue being my friend if I puke in her car. I was surprised when I saw there was a text from Meredith Monday morning asking if we could have lunch.

At some point, Marc gave Meredith my number. Once we sat down for lunch, she let me know that Noah told her I was ignoring Marc and Meredith decided to befriend me and find out what was going on, despite the fact that Noah told her not to get in the middle of things. She might be more like Sylvia than I thought. But she cares about Marc and I can’t fault her for that, especially when she’s helping me out.

Meredith walks slowly with me up to the box. I decide to wait outside until the game actually starts. The plan is to listen to the broadcast on my phone and hope the headphones just take away the sounds of the skates on the ice. Sylvia is the one who comes to get me when the game starts. She’s grinning with excitement. I sure hope I don’t let anyone down. I’m glad I’ve forced myself to watch some games that were on while Marc was on the road. That has to help here.

I hope.

My legs are weak and my hands are shaking as I take in the view of the ice. I already have the broadcast playing and my headphones on. Sylvia squeezes my arm and points to the ice, so I quickly find Marc. I don’t know if that helps or not. At least it’s white still. But my breathing is still a little too heavy, so I focus on what the broadcasters are saying.

Fuck, that’s not working!

I squeeze my eyes closed and focus on just listening for a bit. The broadcasters are discussing Zane Landry who was recently acquired by the Rebels and seems to be doing well so far. He’s been paired with Ian Rhett. Remembering what Marc did, I place my hands over my face and slowly, I space my fingers out until more and more of the ice can be seen. I try to hear Marc’s voice instead of the broadcasters, too. Anything to keep my mind working and occupied, to not let me have a second to think.

Every so often, Meredith or Sylvia glance over at me. No one else really pays attention to me, thankfully. Unfortunately, the Rebels are getting their asses handed to them by the Nebraska Bucks and Luca Zotov. It’s going to suck to end the year with a loss, but they can rebound two days into the new year. I remind myself that they haven’t lost yet.

I wonder what Marc is going to be like if they do lose. Is he even going to want to see me? I wince as some poor sap gets rammed into the boards. Then, I realize it’s Marc. He doesn’t seem that affected, though. He can rebound so fast from a hit, yet sometimes, it takes me twenty minutes to give myself a pep talk to get out of bed on a lazy Saturday morning. I couldn’t get off the couch as fast as he started skating if the fire alarm started going off. It’d take me a solid three seconds to figure out what was happening.

My heart gets all excited as I realize Marc has the puck. He comes up the left side of the net, quickly rears his stick back, and I clamp my hands over my mouth because I nearly scream with his goal. A small squeak gets out; I know it does because both Meredith and Sylvia and a few others glance over at me.

Clearing my throat, I lower my hands casually and focus on the rest of the game. Sort of. I follow the players on the ice. I get excited when Scott scores, but we are not meant to win this game. Rebels lose four to two. I stow the headphones in my purse and wait for what seems like forever. I’m quiet until I can’t take it anymore.

“Are you sure he’ll come up here?” I ask Meredith.

“Yeah. I told him he needed to come see me.”

“Are you sure he’s going to want to see me?”

“Yes.”

Sylvia takes one of my hands and squeezes it. “I’m proud of you,” she says quietly.

“Lizzy?”

I glance over my shoulder to see Scott and then I hear, “Elizabeth?”

“Someone’s popular tonight,” Noah murmurs as he comes around as well and stands behind Meredith.

Both Marc and Scott seem confused by my presence. Marc crouches and I turn in my seat to face him better.

“Are you here of your own free will, Elizabeth?”

I laugh. “Yes.”

“You watched the game?” Scott asks with wide eyes.

“Yes.”

“Wow,” he breathes.

“Lizzy isn’t here for you to pepper her with questions. Besides, I can fill you in because what I don’t know, I’ll drag out of Meredith. Let’s go. It’s not often we have a night without the girls, and we’re going to enjoy it.” That’s all Sylvia has to say for Scott to take her hand, wave goodbye to us, and lead her out of the room.

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