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At my desk, I pulled up the ticket app on my phone and perused the map of the arena’s lower bowl. A lot of season ticket holders put their seats up for sale when they couldn’t make games, and they’d often drop the price on game day. Darren and I routinely scored tickets at or near the glass for a song, and—
Ah. There. Second-row tickets behind the twice-attack goal. Just over a hundred bucks for the pair. Seriously a steal, and with a few clicks, they weremine.
As the confirmation screen popped up, I got a rush of excitement that was a new experience before a hockey game. I was always psyched for a game, but tonight…
Tonight, there would be a player on the ice who knew me. Who’d promised to toss me a puck if my sign was funny enough.
Of course, my ex’s voice picked that moment to elbow its way back in.
Look at him, Isaiah. And look atyou. He’s twenty-six years old with a seven-figure paycheck and the body of a god.What the fuck would he see in a broke-ass middle-aged middle school teacher?
My good spirits from last night and my excitement about the game ebbed. A knot wound itself around my stomach. What if he did see me during warmups, but there was a look of“Oh God, you really did come? Fuck my life”in his eyes? What if—
“Hey, Mr. Cole,” one of my students called out. “I thought phones weren’t allowed in your classroom.”
I peered over my phone at him. “Say that again, Brayden. Slower this time.”
He furrowed his brow. “I thought… phones… weren’t allowed… in your classroom.” He stared quizzically at me.
I grinned. “Myclassroom.”
He groaned and rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over—
Oh God. He’d had to wear a Pittsburgh Yellow Jackets shirt today, didn’t he? Because having that gold-and-black logo right in my field of vision would help me stay focused on today’s lecture. Great.
I cleared my throat. “No phones during class. Including mine.” I switched to my text app. “But class hasn’t started yet, has it?”
He scowled but said nothing.
And I wasn’t a complete hypocrite. Half the students were goofing off on their phones right now, too. Once the bell rang, well, then the rules changed.
I quickly sent Darren a text:Scored section 18, row B, seats 5 & 6. $55/ea.
He must’ve still had his phone in hand, because he responded with a bug-eyed emoji.Holy shit. Did you mug someone?
LOL nah. Just got lucky.
Yeah you did. I’ll Venmo it to you today. Your car or mine?
Yours. Also I’m making a sign for warmups. Let’s get there early so we can stand at the glass.
A sign? Oh God. Do I even want to know?
Probably not.
Right then, the bell rang. I put my phone facedown on my desk, and my students all did the same. That was the rule in my classroom—all phones had to be out, fully in my sight, with the screens turned down. After a few students had tried to be slick and keep their phones below their desk or even tucked into a book, I’d landed on that solution. It cut down a lot on the stealth texting.
I got up and stood in front of the class. “Good morning. Did everyone do the reading last night?”
The nods could’ve been lies, but the groans and eyerolls told me they had, in fact, done the reading. The chapters I’d assigned were important for the unit we were working on, but oh my God, they were dry as dust.
I chuckled. “All right. Does anyone have any questions about what they—”
A text tone chirped.
Mytext tone.
Aw, crap.
