Again, no flattery, no arrogant retort. In fact, Alec looked almost offended at the suggestion.
“I don’t drink during the season,” he snapped.
The harsh tone coming out of Alec’s lips caused Madison to jump. This was not the Alec she knew, even though she really didn’t know a lot about Alec Schumacher. And she wasn’t quite sure how she felt about this new Alec. He didn’t scare her exactly, and it was interesting to see he wasn’t all about getting laid and playing hockey. But that didn’t mean she understood where all this angst was coming from, especially since it was so unexpected coming from Alec.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his face softening. He reached up to place his hand on the back of his neck, looking suddenly uncomfortable, as though even he didn’t know why he was upset. “I didn’t mean to snap. It’s just…” He looked away, unable to meet Madison’s eyes. “Look, Brandon’s not a very social guy. He doesn’t really hang out with us when we go out to do things. I couldn’t tell you his favorite sport outside of hockey, his favorite food, or if he’s dating anyone at the moment. But he’s still a Gull. He wears the same jersey as I do. He’s my teammate. And the way the fans have been booing him and the media’s been hounding him, it’s not right.”
Madison felt herself release a sigh through her nose. If she was being honest, she found Alec’s loyalty to his teammate admirable. It rounded out the edges to him, so to speak. But that still didn’t explain why Alec took this burden in the first place. He wasn’t directly involved in Ken’s murder and he wasn’t friends with Brandon either. Madison felt that he might be stressing out about things beyond his control, something pointless. The guy couldn’t be responsible for everything even if he wanted to be.
“Do you… think that maybe…” Madison wasn’t sure if this was appropriate, if she should ask him this since he seemed so invested. But she was curious. And maybe talking about it might help him feel a little bit better. “Do you think Brandon did it?”
Alec looked at Madison, but instead of snapping at her, he dropped his arm back to his side. “No, I don’t.” She believed him too. “Brandon’s probably one of the most offensive goalies in the league, but there’s no way he killed Ken. Everybody respected Ken. Everybody on the team, everybody who worked for him. The guy could be a hardass, but that was just one of the reasons why the entire league admired him. I mean, he started this team. He built this club from the ground up. He is the reason the Gulls exist in the first place. And he took that team and made it into what it is today.”
Madison felt herself smiling. “You seem to have a lot of passion for the sport,” she observed.
“I am,” he agreed with a curt nod of his head. If his hair hadn’t been gelled back in preparation for the game, she was certain the dirty blond locks would have fallen into his face and those midnight blue eyes. “You know, I think this is the first actual conversation you and I have had.”
And there it was, that charm smile, slithering out onto his face in order to replace his trademark sparkle back into his eyes. He returned to the Alec she was accustomed to, but Madison did notice that his shoulders were still tense. The burden was there. It would seem that there was more to Alec Schumacher than Madison initially believed.
“And,” he continued in a playful voice, “once the season is over, I would be happy to take you up on your offer for a drink. In fact, since I like you so much, I’ll even buy you dinner too.”
“And he’s back,” Madison murmured under her breath, trying to mask an amused grin. “Such a gentleman.” She reached out to touch his forearm once again, her eyes pooling into his. For whatever reason, she wanted to make sure that he knew that what she was about to say was genuine. He didn’t tense when she touched him; he reacted as though it was natural that Madison would touch him. “Good luck tonight.”
He smiled – minus the arrogant sprinkles that usually emphasized it – and nodded again as Madison dropped her hand. “Thank you,” he said.
Madison walked out of the hallway and managed to squeeze her way through the crowd. Even though security was currently ushering out the determined journalists, photographers, and cameramen, they were shouting out questions, sticking out microphones to whomever they encountered, and resisted the mandated exit as much as possible. She managed to squeeze into the female locker room without being noticed, and found the majority of her team positioned in a semi-circle in front of Lara.
“Okay,” Lara said in a quiet voice and then marked something on the clipboard she carried with her. “Just waiting for two more…”
Madison furrowed her brow as she went over to stand next to Amanda. “What’s going on?” she whispered. “I mean, I know what’s going on out there but what’s going on in here? Why aren’t we changing?”
Amanda shrugged. “Honestly, I have no clue,” she replied. “Obviously this whole Brandon Thorpe thing has sent everybody into a tizzy, so Lara’s probably going to make some kind of announcement.” She looked around and then, in an even lower whisper, said, “This is going to sound silly, but…” She swallowed. “Is it just me or do you feel intimidated? Like something bad might actually happen. I don’t mean someone’s going to kill me, but with all these people protesting, and with how crazy the press is getting, and this whole Brandon Thorpe thing, I just feel… Kind of scared.”
Madison paused, unsure of how to proceed. It wasn’t until Amanda had mentioned it that she realized something like getting injured – whether it was on purpose or accidental – was an actual possibility, and she didn’t know how she felt about it. Sure, she remembered seeing people react to the news of Kobe Bryant’s alleged rape trial on the news, but South Haven, Michigan didn’t really produce Lakers fans and she thought that maybe people were blowing things out of proportion on both sides. To be honest, she didn’t actually think people reacted like that in real life.
But this was as real as real could get.
This was her life.
And there was a very good possibility that a riot could break out.
“Nothing’s going to happen,” she managed to say, wrapping her arm around Amanda’s shoulder and giving it a comforting squeeze. “Yeah, things are pretty crazy right now but it’ll be all right. We’re not going to get hurt or injured or anything, except maybe the occasional bump. Okay?”
Amanda nodded, but it took a moment before she was able to say, “Distract me.”
Madison thought for a minute. What would adequately distract Amanda from worrying her pretty, Orange County-bred mind from getting bruised by a rather rambunctious crowd? And then it came to her, as fast as lightning striking metal.
“I had social psychology today and you know what that means...” Madison tried to raise her eyebrows suggestively but from the way Amanda was now laughing at her, she felt that perhaps she looked constipated instead. “Brady. And he sat down next to me. Again.”
“Oooh!” Amanda exclaimed. It was like flipping a light switch; she completely forgot that she was scared and her entire face beamed.
Boys. Amanda’s trigger was boys. Madison wasn’t all that surprised.
“Dish!” she continued.
“First, tell me why we aren’t changing right now,” Madison asked, looking around. Sure enough, the other Girls were still in their street clothes, confused stares touching their faces as though they, too, had no idea what was going on.
“Lara wants everyone here before she makes some kind of announcement,” Amanda replied. “Probably about Brandon Thorpe. And then we’ll change. I think we’re waiting for two more Girls. Anyways, who cares about the right now? Tell me what went on with Brady.”
In all honesty, there was really nothing to tell. The two students had just shared a conversation about criminal trials and how Madison was certain that good looking defendants got acquitted than defendants that were unattractive. But Brady pointed out that looks only helped out when sentencing came around – the good looking person got a lighter sentence compared to the ugly one. In fact, sometimes
good looks actually hurt defendants because jurors assumed the defendants were just taking advantage of their looks.
As Madison continued, she realized that maybe Amanda wouldn’t get it. Because it wasn’t the actual subject of the conversation that mattered, but the fact that they conversed in the first place. That Brady thought she was smart enough to talk to her about something other people might not understand. It was the way he looked at her with those odd, beige colored eyes, how they lit up when they talked about something he so obviously loved. The way his lips curved into a smile. The way his gentle freckles outlined the definition in his face. The way his hands moved more animated the deeper he got into the subject.
But Amanda seemed to understand that too, because she asked Madison to describe how he looked at her and how he pronounced certain words.
It was a win-win situation because Madison was allowed to gush like a fool and Amanda was distracted from the current situation they were in. It felt good to feel ridiculous instead of being the serious oldest sister who prioritized school and work over boys.
“So do you think he’s going to ask you out?” Amanda asked once Madison was finished.
The brunette shrugged. “I don’t know,” she answered, and she hated that she sounded so worried about it. “I mean, I feel that we have something between us, but maybe he doesn’t feel the same way, you know?”
“Would you ever ask him out?”
“No!” She shook her head as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I’m independent and everything, but I still think a guy should ask a girl out.”
“Good for you. I totally agree.” She paused, twirling a red lock around her finger. “So, okay, question: do you think Brandon Thorpe would get convicted or acquitted. Going back to the conversation you had with Brady. In terms of Thorpe’s looks.”
Madison chuckled. “He didn’t do it though,” she pointed out.
“Oh, and every person who goes on trial is innocent?” Amanda asked, raising a questioning brow. “Come on. If I was on a jury, I’d totally let him go free. He’s pretty cute, right? Not in the obvious way or anything like that, but he has that whole brooding thing down as well as Bruce Wayne. And we all know how hot Bruce Wayne is.”
“Oh my God,” Madison said, shaking her head.
“Hello!” Now it was Amanda who sounded obvious. “It would be the perfect discussion for you to have with Brady. You’d be applying the knowledge he gave you to current events. God, I’m a fucking genius.” Faye’s head snapped in Amanda’s direction – though Lara Stinson didn’t seem to have heard – about to say something when Amanda said to the captain, “We’re not in uniform.”
Faye closed her mouth and turned back around, but the look on her face said that she was not happy.
“Good one,” Madison whispered, nudging the red head with her shoulder.
“Girls, girls.” The conversation was abruptly halted by Lara’s voice. She raised a hand, her fingers glittering with the different rings she wore on each figure, in order to get the Girls’ attention, and once the room quieted, she cleared her throat. “Now that all of you are here, I have a couple of announcements to make.
“First and foremost, I’m keeping you all on the ice. Those of you who are still shaky with skating, don’t worry, you can just stay by the entranceway to the rink. But I want everyone together which means that during this game, there will be no going through the crowd and no signing memorabilia at our station. I don’t want to scare any of you girls, but my main priority is to keep you safe. And what with Brandon being down at the police station, it could get violent.”
Shocked gasps and quiet mumblings came out of the Girls’ mouths, and they turned to look at each, wondering if the others knew about this.
“Calm down,” Lara said, waving her free hand up and down. “Now calm down. Seraphina Hanson has ordered more security for tonight so I highly doubt anything will happen, but let’s err on the side of caution, hmm? It will also be announced, just before the game starts, that anything thrown onto the ice besides hats, it is cause for arrest.”
“Why would people throw hats onto the ice?” Madison whispered to Amanda.
“For hat tricks,” Amanda replied.
Madison was about to ask just what a hat trick was when Lara continued.
“Now, listen, as silly as it sounds, we are the heart of the team. You are the heart of the time.” There was a strength in Lara’s voice that Madison had yet to actually hear before. Until now. “I know it’s hard, what with everything going on right now, but we have to keep smiling. If people see us behaving normally, acting calmly, then they’ll be calm, and everything will return to normal. Or as normal as they can be. We need to hold things together. We have to inspire hope.”
Madison felt herself oddly touched by Lara’s speech and realized that being a Gulls’ Girl was more than being eye candy. In essence, the Girls held everything together; they were an approachable gateway to the team, and inspired enthusiasm for the team. They were the glue.
Madison was proud to be the glue.
As she changed into her uniform, she wanted to live up to Lara’s creed. She wanted to inspire hope in belly-baring shirts and hot pants.
20. “I still can’t believe it,” Emma said, taking her usual seat next to her father.
“Believe what?” Jeremy asked. “That Brandon Thorpe was officially brought down to the police station to be questioned or the reaction people have because of it.”
As with the last game, this preseason game was filled. There was probably only a quarter of the stands remaining empty, but with the long line outside the ticket window at Sea Side, it was likely that they would fill up even more.
It still amazed Emma that people could react so strangely to a person being suspected of murder. Supposed fans were now boycotting any and everything that related to the Seagulls, despite the fact that only one member of the team was suspected of the kill, and even then, there was no evidence that warranted the suspicion in the first place. Other people who hadn’t even cared about hockey, let alone the Seagulls, were suddenly eager to buy preseason game tickets or buy merchandise in order to say that they were there while Brandon Thorpe was suspected, they were there during the inevitable trial, and they were there when he was found guilty. No doubt they would try to get the net minder to sign a hat or something on his walk from the courthouse to the awaiting car that would then take him to prison.
And then there was the media itself, who seemed to occupy its own sort of terrain. Besides the local paper, the media didn’t really get into hockey even during the actual season, save for excerpts every now and then being written in the sports section of The Orange County Register. Hockey’s popularity in Southern California never really took form probably because the sunny weather and lack of exposure. Jeremy would always complain about this to Emma because there was, in his mind and apparently every fan on the west coast, a heavy biased against the west when it came to hockey. As such, teams stationed in the west weren’t as likely to get press as teams from the east, which hurt west coast teams financially and even emotionally. Less coverage meant less fans which meant less support for the team. Unless, of course, the people who claimed to be diehard fans encouraged their own friends, family, spouses, children, parents, siblings and anybody else to get into the game. As such, thorough coverage was difficult to find unless a person went to the Seagulls official website. The only time the press was really interested in the Gulls – possibly garnering a front page story rather than a short paragraph in the sports section – was when the Gulls looked as though they might make playoffs. But since they never did, interest died down and stayed down until the next season.
But now, every form of media was represented tonight. Or, at least, Emma thought they were, considering the swarm of them that had just been forced out of the building. She recognized a sports caster for a local news channel along with two national sports casters and their cameramen. Not only did the local Newport Beach p
aper have a representative, but so did The Orange County Register, The Los Angeles Times, and even some east coast papers, where hockey was more popular.
Even east coasters couldn’t ignore the Brandon Thorpe murder scandal.
“Not only that,” Jeremy had pointed out as the father and daughter made their way to the practice fame, “but Ken was a prominent figure in the hockey world. True, the Gulls have yet to make playoffs, but it really says something to have started and managed his own team for this period of time. His death would have been international hockey news, with or without Brandon Thorpe’s supposed involvement.”
But because of his supposed involvement, there was more demand for information about it. In fact, Emma thought she had seen a couple of journalists from Canada. Which would make sense, especially since Thorpe himself was Canadian.
Even mainstream, non-athletic media wanted as much information as possible. Brandon Thorpe wasn’t dating a Kardashian, but he was still a prominent athletic figure and relatively good looking, key factors that made a good news story.
“But he hasn’t even been arrested,” Emma said, leaning back in her chair. Traffic was bad coming in, and with all these people, they had a few minutes before the lights dimmed and the teams were called out for the national anthem to sit down and catch up. “What’s the big deal?”
“Brandon Thorpe is a big deal,” Jeremy said. “And that Ken Brown was the victim in this helped too. He was an important figure not only in hockey but as a Newport Beach resident. A lot of locals are demanding the case be solved just like a lot of hockey fans are too.”
Jeremy had to shout over the noise that came from their surroundings. Emma couldn’t help but look around; she had never seen it this crowded before, even during the season. It was an observation that was starting to get repetitive. Normally, she would have welcomed more people in the stands. More people just added to the intensity of the game. But she knew that a lot of these people were here for the wrong reasons. And as she gazed at them, she noticed that things were more violent among fans, even for hockey. People were pushing each other, yelling at each other. She even saw one guy slap another guy’s food down so it landed on the concrete floor. With all this tension, she wouldn’t have been surprised to see a fight break out.
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