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Me: Why’s that?
Cam: Because if you weren’t, I’d rip off your clothes later and punish you for being so snarky with me before a game.
Me: Promises, promises . . .
Cam: I keep my promises. I’ll push your face into the pillow and make you mine if you’re not careful.
It was all fun and games until he used theM word. He can’t throw it around so loosely.
Me: Shut upppp. And quit texting me, I’m waiting for the girls. Nervous.
Cam: Don’t worry, you’ll like them and they’ll like you. Just remember to be Jordan,not Jordana.
Me: K.
Cam: Good luck.
Me: You too.
I tuck my phone back in my pocket, and not two seconds later, a blonde, brunette, and redhead—like a bad joke—head down the stairs toward my seat. I’m three rows up from the glass, right next to the tunnel. I’ve never beenmyselfaround new people, and I have no idea how to act with them.Be Jordan, not Jordana.Be yourself.
“Hey!” they say, almost in unison.
“Hi! I’m Jordan.” I paste on a smile. We make introductions, and I figure out which name goes to which woman and who their husbands are.
“Banksy told us you’re new to the hockey scene. You’re a friend of a friend?”
“Banksy?”
“Yeah, you know, Teller?”
“Oh!”Wonder why they call him Banksy?“I’ve watched a lot of hockey but haven’t been to many live games. And yeah, we’re friends.”
“I’ve never seen him with a girlfriend before,” Micky says. “Normally, he flips through women pretty fast.”
Birdie and Raleigh both smack her legs. “Mick! What the fuck!”
I laugh. “No, you’re right. It’s no secret he gets around.”
“I mean it in a good way! Like she’s special to him!”
“It’s special to me. Kinda like you.”
Micky wraps an arm around my shoulders. “And see?! She knows, it’s fine!”
“Oh, I’m not his girlfriend.”
Raleigh puts her hair up in a ponytail. “Well, you must be something to him, Barrett said he’s never invited a girl to a game.”
I try not to let that sink in. It’s not like that for us, we’ll only ever be friends, and that’s the way I like it. It’s not like he put my name on the WAGs box, he gave me a ticket for seats, and I appreciate that the girls are sitting down here with me.
“Just a friend, really. I wouldn’t want anything more anyway. Men are too much work,” I explain. “I hope you aren’t missing being in the WAGs box on my account, but it’s really nice to have the company.”
“Not at all. We got sitters!” Birdie shouts, holding up her hand for Raleigh to high-five. “This is where all the fun is. We normally sit up there because we’ve got kids in tow. They’re much easier to manage in the box. But tonight is girls’ night!”
“Whoa,we?Youall have kids, not me,” Micky says. “Don’t lump me in with your overactive ovaries.”
“Except for Micky, but she sits up there because we’re there,” Birdie says.
