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“How have you been?” she asks. “You here for your dad?”
Isla and I went to school together, starting in kindergarten. She’s the one person from our high school who chose to attend Holt.
It was common knowledge in Somerville that my dad coached Holt’s hockey team. But it’s strange to have someone know that now, without me telling them.
“Yeah,” I answer. “I’m also…I’m a student here now. I transferred.”
“Oh, wow. From Boston, right?”
“Right. Wasn’t all I was hoping it would be.”
“Sorry to hear that,” Isla says, her expression sympathetic. None of the judgment I was worried about seeing.
“Thanks. It’s been nice to be back.”
“We should get together sometime, now that you’re back in Somerville,” she suggests.
“Absolutely,” I reply. “I would love that. I was planning to reach out to you. It’s just been a crazy first week.”
“I get it. I’ll text you? Same number?”
I nod. “Same number.”
“Great.”
I introduce her to Chloe and Malia, then Isla continues back toward her seat.
“You guys went to high school together?” Chloe asks.
“And elementary school and middle school. She grew up in Somerville, just like me. And started at Holt as a freshman.”
A week ago, I would have thoughtLike I should have.
Today, I don’t. And it’s not because I regret transferring to Holt, because I definitely don’t. More that I’m finally accepting I can’t change the past and am trying to enjoy the present.
“She seemed nice,” Malia says.
“Yeah, she is.”
We reach the front of the line. I order a hot pretzel, and we return to our seats right as players are filing back onto the bench.
I chew on the salty, warm dough as my eyes skim over the blue jerseys.
Looking for thirty-four.
I’m irritated with myself, and also making excuses. It’s not that we hooked up; it’s that I’m tutoring him and he’s the one guy I actually know on the team. It’s not that I’ve spent an unhealthy amount of time thinking about him recently; it’s that he’s been the best player on the ice this game.
Lies, but I tell myself they don’t count since they’re not spoken out loud.
Aidan’s not on the bench.
I scan it twice to confirm.
Then realize…he’s already on the ice. That his line is starting this period.
And when he scores for a third time, a few minutes later, I’m not surprised.
This time, I’m expecting it.
