9. Madison was nervous. She knew her face projected a look of calm, but it was all for show. The façade was so people wouldn’t come up to her and ask if she was all right. As the oldest out of three girls, she learned from an early age that if she excelled at everything she was a part of, including academics and any extracurricular activities she decided to participate in, teachers, parents, coaches, and any other adults she came in contact with wouldn’t ask her if there was something wrong. She also learned that as the oldest, she had to stay calm and collected in times of stress in order to be a rock while her sisters crashed into her like emotional rapids. But right now, she felt that there was a very real possibility of her drowning.
Yes, it was only preseason so technically the game didn’t even count. But it was also technically her first real hockey game as a Gulls Girl. The outfit she wore was the one she preferred: the shirt was still the same, so her assets were on display, but instead of a short and unflattering miniskirt, she wore low-waisted tight black pants. Which, she was glad to say, made her rather small – but quite firm – derriere much more noticeable than it really was. Her hair and makeup were similar to the team photo.
That was only last week, wasn’t it? Her whole encounter with Alec Schumacher had played in her mind three, four times throughout the week, something she couldn’t understand and tried not to consciously think about. Although once she started school, she was certain things about Alec would be forgotten because she’d be surrounded by likeminded students, most likely smart and ambitious, with the goal to graduate, get on track for a career, and start a family. This was also Madison’s plan, and she was sure she’d meet someone who was more her type as a whole than Schumacher.
Glancing down at the small, four-leaf clover she draw on the corner of the inside of her wrist, Madison tried to regain control of her breathing. She didn’t know why she was so nervous. All she had to do was carry a metal shovel and scrape the ice as fast as she could while smiling up at the audience. By the time the real season began, she’d have the motions in her unconscious, and it’d be just like driving, where she didn’t have to be fully away of every action – and every mistake – she made.
“You okay?” Amanda asked her, taking a seat next to Madison on the long bench placed between the lockers. “You seem kind of… tense.”
“That’s a good word, actually,” Madison said. So maybe her cool demeanor only extended to her face. She would have to get her body to loosen up if she was going to truly fool people. “I’ll be honest; I’m a little nervous.”
“Don’t be,” Amanda said, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. Before Madison could say something along the lines of ‘easier said than done,’ her red-headed friend continued. “No one’s going to be paying attention your actual skill as a Girl. They’re going to be paying attention to the way your tits look in the shirt and the way your ass moves as you skate.” At Madison’s appalled look, Amanda shrugged. “Sorry, but that’s the truth. Now come on. We have to line up.”
The Gulls Girls got into a single-file line. Four of them were pulled so they could interact with the fans along with the mascot Gil the Gull. The other ten were split into two groups, with five Girls in each group. Each group had one girl who was in control of a cart, where stray and dirty ice, after it was scraped, was placed. Erica, the girl Madison sat back-to-back with in the team picture was in charge of her group’s cart while Faye, the team captain, was in charge of the other group’s cart. Madison and Amanda each held their shovel, each a part of Erica’s group.
“So we just stand here until we’re called out?” Madison whispered to Amanda, once the whistle blew and the game started.
“Pretty much,” Amanda said. “Just always have a smile on your face though. You never know when a camera will be on you.”
Madison rolled her eyes and turned back to the fame. For whatever reason she didn’t want to want to fully think about, her focus was Alec Schumacher and the first line. Whatever that meant. The way he played clearly revealed how much he loved the game. He seemed driven to push people into the glass, and due to his size, Madison couldn’t help but flinch at the contact. But Alec didn’t flinch. Not even when he was pushed around. He just pushed back. And harder.
It was interesting to Madison to see someone so completely masculine do something as feminine and as graceful as ice skating, and yet every time he fought or pushed, it was all man once again. The contradiction was hard not to be drawn into, and she couldn’t help but feel excited whenever he got the puck because she was beginning to learn that whenever Alec Schumacher had the puck, he was going to do something extraordinary.
A few minutes into the game, and a penalty was already called on both the Gulls and the Panthers. Apparently Matt Peters and a player from the other team got into a pretty heated fist fight, and even though the refs were watching it play out in front of them, allowed the fight to continue for a good amount of time before both players were sent to the penalty box.
“Okay, this is going to be a dumb question but is fighting common in hockey?” Madison whispered to Amanda once play resumed.
Amanda giggled in that charming way of hers. “Actually, that’s a good question,” she said, “and the only reason I laugh is because people tend to think it’s obvious. Preseason, it’s rare to see a fight, so whatever Benson said to Matt must have really pissed him off. Normally, during the season you see more and more fighting depending on one of four things: number one, sometimes, players try and get under their opponents skin in order to get a penalty called and then a power play because five on four gives a team a better chance to score, and for the most part, the defending team won’t risk going on the offense for those two minutes; number two, sometimes a coach will want to change up his four lines – something he can’t do once he’s submitted them – so if he can get one of his players in the penalty box, the coach can add a player to see how he does in a certain line; number three, there are some refs who are just plain biased against certain teams – the Gulls face adversity constantly by the refs and the league – and don’t make any calls so the players have to start standing up for themselves; and number four, sometimes, people start fights in order to fire up their team. It’s much more calculated than people give it credit for.”
“And why do you think Matt started the fight?” Madison asked.
“I don’t think he started it,” Amanda said. “I saw Benson say something to him before it broke out. That would be reason number five; defending himself, his teammates, or someone close to him. My guess? Benson said something either about Katella or Thorpe. Personally, I think it was about Thorpe because I think there’s this unspoken rule amongst hockey players that insulting a spouse or a significant other is out of line, but a couple players did it to Matt last season and one of them had to get stitches which caused Matt to get suspended, obviously.”
“Is it just me…” She felt herself blush, especially when Faye turned around to shush her prompting both girls to giggle in hushed tones, and smile with slight embarrassment. “Okay, it’s hot when they fight, right? Please tell me I’m not the only one who thinks this.”
“Dude, why do you think there’s a surprisingly large female fan base?” Amanda whispered back, causing both girls to laugh out loud, despite Faye obvious annoyance.
It was at about eight minutes into the game when the Girls were sent out onto the ice for the first time. Though her stomach felt like it did during that brief second before a high roller coaster plunged to the bottom, Madison tried to keep her cool as she skated out to her designated section. The cold that immediately hit her pinched her cheeks and, as a defense, her muscles tightened. Which she supposed was a good thing because without really thinking about it, she sucked in her stomach. Placing the bottom of the shovel on the ice, she skated the width of the section, picking up the flurry of stray ice. She had skated every winter back in South Haven, so she didn’t have to worry about whether or not she could maintain her balance. When she
reached the other side, she turned around and shoveled the ice back to her original starting place, the ice placed just adjacent to the walls.
She was actually doing it. And it was as hard as she thought it would be.
Madison glanced to her right, where Amanda was positioned. To her horror, Madison realized that she had completely forgot to smile and the last few seconds she was out there, she plastered the biggest smile she could muster. When she finished pushing the ice to either side of the rink, she stayed on one side and scooped the particles up and dumped them in the nearby cart. Skating to the other side in order to do the same thing, she noticed Alec Schumacher, along with a few of Gulls players, standing close to the team’s bench, talking amongst themselves while waiting for the Girls to finish. He was looking directly at her, his midnight blue eyes seeming to scrutinize her, which only made her insecurities to come rushing back to her. Was there something in her teeth? Was her face just so completely red due to the cold? Did he notice the hair sticking up on her arms and think it was gross?
But when he saw that she had noticed him looking at her, Alec gave Madison what she was beginning to believe was his patented charm smile, and she couldn’t help but roll her eyes and silently admonish herself that she even for one second cared what he thought of her in the first place. Once she reached her destination, she noticed Alec collecting the stray ice that she probably missed with his hockey stick and moving it to the pile she had made. When Madison looked at him, his face appeared soft, genuine, instead of arrogant and self-righteous, as though he was helping her because he wanted to and not because he wanted something from her.
Madison shook her head, trying to forget the image of that particular hockey player. He was a player – for lack of a better word – and she didn’t mean hockey. He was familiar with how to seduce women, so it probably wasn’t hard for him to appear caring. Well, she for one wasn’t going to fall for it. She learned her lesson back in high school, and didn’t need to forget it just because Alec was good looking.
When she finished scooping up and depositing the ice into the cart, she rushed out of the rink. This time, the smile on her face was real.
“Oh my gosh, that was amazing!” she exclaimed to Amanda as the Girls began to reform their line.
“See?” Amanda said with a similar grin on her face. “It’s fun, right? You just have to remember to smile and flirt with the audience, you know, with your eyes and everything. Maybe a wink here and there. But don’t worry. It’ll come to you naturally and you won’t even have to think about it anymore.”
Madison laughed, her entire body relaxing, thankful that the first time was over, and even more thankful that she actually enjoyed doing the labor. Though, her passion wasn’t for the actual cleaning of the ice but rather the adrenaline skating in front of those people, wearing a cute outfit, and representing a hockey game produced. She turned so she could watch the game resume, and continued to smile, feeling that her stomach was void of anxiety and filled with anticipation at the next time she would have to go out there.
As she watched the game, Madison began to notice that every time the Gulls goalie, Brandon Thorpe, the audience booed. In fact, when she walked into the rink before the game, she noticed a small group of people with picket signs that chanted something about killers and thrillers or something like that. Madison thought it was just people protesting the violence of the sport, but her father never mentioned the controversy about it. Really, everyone knew hockey was violent. But apparently when there was a chance that murder was involved, it inspired people, who probably never even watched a game, to storm over and push their opinion on innocent ticketholders.
How security hadn’t forced them off the property thirty seconds after they appeared, Madison had no clue.
Her eyes drifted from Alec over to Thorpe. The more she watched him, the more she realized just how good he was. Stopping saves she couldn’t even see, bending his body in ways she thought were impossible. And yet, he had to deal with people, predominantly Gulls fans, booing him, even though he was doing incredible.
She couldn’t deny it; even though Thorpe was a possible suspect in Ken Brown’s death, Madison couldn’t help but feel sort of bad that he was being treated like this. Weren’t fans supposed to stand behind their players, no matter what? Didn’t that make them fans? What amazed her the most was the fact that Thorpe looked calm out there, not allowing the hecklers to get to him.
Soon enough, the whistle blew and play stopped, calling for the Girls to go out there for a second time. Fourteen minutes into the game, Madison skated out to the same section she had been assigned to, expecting to be excited and energized as it was before. However, it was a tad different than the first time. When she went out – smile already on her face so she wouldn’t forget – there were catcalls and whistles. It was hard to keep that smile on her face and she didn’t even bother to attempt flirting with her eyes, whatever that meant, when all she could hear were the suggestiveness.
By the time she was finished and off the ice, Madison was furious.
Amanda turned to her, smiling, as though she expected to be as happy as she had been the first time. But the red head’s smile slipped off of her face when she noticed Madison’s scowl.
“What?” she asked Madison. “What’s wrong?”
“Does this happen at every game?” she asked in a hushed voice, hoping the Girls wouldn’t overhear. “The derogatory whistles and statements and all that other bullshit?”
“Hey,” Faye snapped, narrowing her brown eyes in Madison’s direction. “You’re in uniform. Watch your language.”
“Sorry,” Madison said, feeling admonished. She knew better, but she couldn’t help her outburst. She turned back to Amanda, trying to control her breathing so slips of the tongues wouldn’t happen again. “I just don’t get it. Why are they doing this?”
“Look at what we’re wearing, Madison,” Amanda said, gesturing at the outfit. “You can’t tell me that you really believed we wouldn’t hear something from a couple of people here and there. I mean, look at how vocal they are about Brandon Thorpe.”
“Yeah, but don’t they know we have to have at least a 3.0 GPA?” Madison asked. “Don’t they know we’re more than good looking ice maids?”
“Madison, people don’t care,” Amanda said, her voice brusque. It sounded almost foreign coming from a girl who was normally peppy and enthusiastic about practically everything. “Come on. At the end of the day, our job is supposed to scrape the ice and look pretty. Oh, and keeping our mouth shut unless we’re cheering for our Gulls. No one gives a darn about our brain.”
It was six tense minutes before the buzzer sounds, indicating the end of the first period. People start booing, and both girls turned to see Brandon Thorpe – helmet off with brown hair sticking up in various places but those grey-green eyes straight ahead of them, cold, resigned, as though nothing phased him, as though he didn’t notice or didn’t care – walking off the ice, past the Girls without a word, without a glance. Other tired, sweaty Gulls players trickled behind him.
“Henry should seriously take Thorpe off the ice,” Amanda whispered in order to ensure none of the players overheard her. “People are going to start a riot or something.”
“Jeez, he hasn’t even been named as a suspect yet,” Madison said. In all honesty, Madison couldn’t say why she was defending Brandon, especially when she didn’t know him and he was a logical choice for killing Ken if all the money rumors were true. But she didn’t like seeing someone being prosecuted when it wasn’t clear whether yet if they did it or not. “People are brutal. I just don’t get it.”
Amanda shrugged, giving her a tight smile. “That’s life, sweetie,” she replied. “Come on. We have to get these skates off.”
Apparently, a few Girls were required to participate in the intermission activity, some had to run their own merchandise stand, while other filtered through the crowd with Gil the Gull. Madison was part of the crowd-detail and therefore needed
shoes rather than skates. Before she could follow the Girls down the hall, a sweaty hand wrapped around her arm, stopping her. She turned, only to find Alec Schumacher, his cheeks red, his hair matted to his face. He didn’t look perfect, but that didn’t deter from his good looks.
“So have you been watching me?” he asked.
Madison still couldn’t believe that the cocky words spewing out of his mouth could sound nice, but Alec somehow made that happen. She quickly glanced around, knowing she shouldn’t be interacting with him during a game. “I’ve been watching you not score,” she retorted despite the fact that it was true. She saw something flash across Alec’s eyes, and before she could stop herself, said, “Sorry. That was mean.”
He half-smiled and a dimple popped in his right cheek making the smile even more disarming. “Did you just apologize to me?” he asked.
Madison rolled her eyes and turned, heading off to get shoes on. Again, she didn’t look back but somehow she knew that Alec was watching her the entire way.
10. “I just don’t get it!” Seraphina exclaimed to her sister. She threw her arms out, clearly exasperated, as her newly acquired team headed back to their designated locker room after the first period of the first preseason game. And Seraphina’s first official game as owner and manager of the Newport Beach Sea Gulls.
The game was predominantly filled with Seraphina watching plays and asking questions. Because she knew absolutely nothing about the sport save that it was filled with violence and the goal was to get more goals, she figured she would buy a Hockey for Dummies book when she got the chance and read it as fast as possible. She never got the chance to do that, but luckily her sister was dating the captain of the team so Katella knew a thing or two about the game. When the fight broke out between Matt Peters and Benson from the other team, Katella stopped in midsentence, biting her bottom lip. She looked both aroused and worried as her boyfriend of two years got into an amateur boxing match, and it took a few minutes before the fight was finally stopped and Katella resumed her explanations.
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