When I was little, I wanted a white knight to come sweep me away from my terrible life. I wanted the horse, the shining armor, the sword.
The knight would slay my monsters and carry me off into the sunset.
But like most fantasies, that didn’t happen. The monster had more kids. And it was my mother who was the one who carried me off—but it certainly wasn’t into the sunset.
This, however… this feels like the start to something new.
“Are you sure?” Thalia, my best friend, asks me. “I mean, this is on a level of…”
I shrug. We’re standing in front of one of the oldest performing arts buildings in Crown Point, only blocks from campus, and the stadium we’re due to be at in less than an hour.
The thing is, the theater has been shut down for a month as it undergoes repairs, and rehearsals for the new show start next week. And I’m not a betting person, but I’d guess they won’t let random people wander around once that happens.
“I’ll be quick,” I promise her.
I give the side door a test pull, and it opens easily under my hand. I smile at her, as if to say, See? and step inside. The darkness swallows me whole. And a second later, Thalia joins me. She turns her phone flashlight on, illuminating the hallway.
We go forward quickly, our footsteps light, until we find the main stage. There are tarps everywhere, the floor rough, but it’s not the stage I want. It’s what’s below.
There’s a staircase set off to the side, and Thalia lets out a groan when I gesture to it. Down we go, until I locate the piano. The live orchestra plays under the stage. The conductor is visible from the audience, and some of the front chairs, but the piano is tucked into the back.
When I find it, I let out a quiet cheer. I toss my phone to Thalia and carefully slide out the bench. She nods when she’s started recording, and I take a seat. I stare at the keys for a moment, starstruck. Crown Point Theater has seen many, many orchestra members who have then gone on to do great and wonderful things. This piano is like a piece of history.
“Go,” Thalia urges.
I nod, tossing her another smile over my shoulder, although my nerves are climbing up my throat. It’s not like anyone is watching—it’s just, I’d like to do this for real someday. With a full orchestra backing me up.
The time for hesitating is gone. I dive into a piece I know by heart, my fingers flying across the keys. The sound, though. The sound it makes goes straight into my soul. I lean in and play faster. This is the risky part, after all. If anyone is here, they’ll know exactly where to find us.
Breaking and entering isn’t a good look on my college résumé.
I finish and sit back, caught in a trance.
“You’ll get here,” she swears in a soft voice.
A door slams in the distance, and we both flinch. I jump up and rush past Thalia, grabbing her hand and towing her with me.
“Hey! Stop!” someone shouts.
We ignore them, sprinting down a maze of corridors and following the glowing red exit signs. We burst out onto the sidewalk and keep running another block before we slow down.
I glance at her and burst out into laughter.
She follows suit a moment later, then looks down at my phone. “Oh, shit. I didn’t stop recording.” She lifts it. “How does it feel to have played at Crown Point Theater for the first time, Ms. Monroe?”
I smirk. “Like a dream come true, Ms. Armitage.”
“You’ll get there one day.” She hooks her arm around mine and hands my phone back to me. “Now, you ready for your first ever hockey game?”
Thalia and I met two months ago. There was an on-campus welcome event for incoming students before the official start of school, and a mixer for transfers. As a junior, I didn’t know what to expect. My community college in Chicago didn’t do mixers. Or functions of any kind, really.
Anyway, Thalia and I bonded almost immediately at that mixer, which was pretty lame compared to the parties the freshmen were having. We were both supposed to be living in the dorms, but we decided to take a chance and get an apartment together.
And she’s been stuck with me ever since.
The stadium is up ahead, and we join the masses of blue-and-silver-wearing students filing in through the metal detectors. One of the workers scans my student ID and nods me through, and another peeks in my bag. And then we’re in.
“We’re meeting some of the dance team,” Thalia says. “They’re saving us seats.”
She joined the dance team at the start of school and was immediately swallowed up by that crowd of girls. She’s tried to take me along when they go out, and I keep wavering. Like I want to, but I can’t. The only party I happened to find over the summer was insane. Obviously, it ended a bit differently than I thought it would.
Now, I prefer to stick to my pajamas and movies at night. And I’ve been keeping my head down as much as possible.
“Willow!” Thalia suddenly yells.
She pulls me forward faster, catching up with a blonde girl who’s surrounded by others. My nerves buzz, a reminder that I have never had very many friends. So what if I socialize wrong? So what if they hate me on sight?
“Hey, Thalia!” The blonde hugs her, then seems to realize that Thalia is still attached to me “Oops, sorry. I’m Willow.”
“This is my roommate, Aspen,” Thalia introduces.
“Nice to meet you, Aspen.” Willow gestures to the girls around her. “These are Violet, Jess, Amanda, and Michelle.”
They all nod their greetings, but Amanda’s gaze stays on me. Recognition floods through her, and my stomach twists. She was one of the girls I was talking to before we all drew cards.
“You were at the party,” she says.
“I…”
“Erik throws some ragers, huh?”
We start walking toward whatever section they have seats in, and I glance at Amanda. The last time I saw her was just before the card draw. Although she doesn’t seem to harbor any ill will that my stranger seemed more interested in me than her. Even after she went all gooey-eyed over him.
My stranger.
I bite my lip. I haven’t thought about him in a while, although I’ve been keeping an eye out. Crown Point University seems to be just big enough to grant me the grace of avoiding him, though. The last thing I need or want is to see him and have that night thrown in my face.
“Are you a freshman?” Amanda asks. “I thought you were older…”
“I’m a junior.” I frown and try to recall what I told her. “I transferred in this year.”
“The dick was that good, huh?”
She says it so quietly, I have to do a double take. But she just smiles at me. And then her pace increases, until she’s joining one of the other girls at the front of the group.
“Did you meet Amanda before?” Willow glances over her shoulder at Thalia and me. “She graduated last year, but she got a job on campus.”
I force a smile. “Yeah, we met over the summer.”
Thalia nudges me. “You good?”
“Perfectly fine.”
We get to our section and head down the stairs. We’re just off-center, to the right of the penalty boxes. The group keeps going lower, and lower, until they file into the first row.
Holy shit.
“Did these tickets cost anything?” I ask Thalia. “The student area is free, but that’s…”
Not close to here. Nowhere as good as these seats either.
She chuckles. “Violet and Willow are both dating guys on the team, so they pulled some strings for the first game. Don’t worry—after this game, we’ll be slumming it in the student section. Unless we find guys to date who want to hook us up…”
I snort.
We take our seats, and I’m on the end. Which is totally fine, but I’m still fucking reveling that I’m this close to the action for my first game. I listen to Thalia chat with the other girls about the dance team and whatever practice they have coming up. That usually keeps her out of the apartment late some nights, but I’m glad she’s finding her footing here.
Unlike me.
The players skate out onto the ice to begin their warm-ups, and one of the Crown Point Hawks players points to one of the girls in our row as he skates by.
“That’s Greyson Devereux,” Thalia explains. “He and Violet are together.”
“Who else should I know?” I ask, leaning closer to her.
She hums and looks around. “Um, Knox Whiteshaw is the center, he and Willow are dating. Those four are seniors. Miles, his brother, is a junior. He’s the goalie.”
My gaze goes to the goalie, covered head to toe in gear. He seems comfortable catching the pucks flying his way, dropping them out of his way almost as soon as they touch his glove, or batting them aside with his stick.
“They had two seniors graduate last year who were starters,” Willow says to us. “Knox said that a senior and a sophomore are starting tonight. Hudson Finch and Tony Rodrigues.”
I met Finch. Briefly.
“And Steele,” Amanda adds. “But you know him, Aspen.”
I wet my lips. “Do I?”
Her eyes narrow. “Do you not remember? You guys pulled the cards…”
Oh, no.
“Steele O’Brien?” I question. “That’s who…”
I’m going to be sick.
And then his jersey, with O’Brien across the back, flashes past me.
My stomach turns, and my skin goes clammy. I jump to my feet, thankful that I’m on the aisle. I rush up it and into the bathroom, barely making it to a toilet before I lose my dinner.
“I haven’t seen that reaction before,” Thalia says when I exit the stall. Her gaze stays on me as I cross to the sink and rinse my mouth out, spitting a few times. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, um…” I straighten and turn to her. “I just wasn’t expecting him, you know?”
“No, you lost me at your rather insane reaction to his name.” She crosses her arms. “What’s up?”
I shake my head. Nope, not going there. Not now anyway. My secrets will come out in due time. And Thalia already knows part of the story. I just don’t feel like admitting to the rest of it at the moment.
“Let’s pretend that didn’t happen,” I suggest. “And we can watch the game like nothing’s wrong.”
She sighs, twisting her long, light-brown hair in her fingers. She’s got a Crown Point University blue sweatshirt on, same as me, and black leggings. Where she’s petite, perfect for the dance team, I’m all curves. It doesn’t really matter to me—it is what it is. I exercise when the mood strikes me, I eat just fine. The weight doesn’t shift, though. No matter if I starve myself and exercise four times a week or fourteen.
So, the curves are here to stay, judgmental bitches be damned.
It’s fine.
But it makes online clothes shopping a pain in the ass.
Anyway—besides that, we could be sisters. My two sisters already look more like her than me, pulling my mother’s complexion. I got Mom’s nose, and the rest seems to come from Dad’s side of the family. Dark hair, pale skin with the tendency to freckle, green eyes, height…
We return to our seats, and Thalia murmurs something to her friends, an excuse for me rushing away. I ignore Amanda’s questioning glances and remind myself that she’s graduated. She’s just here for the game.
So am I. And once it’s over, I’m never going to another hockey game.
