Stone Creek by Davis, Lainey (reading diary .TXT) 📕

Linda and I make our way to the arena decked out in our warmest Stone Creek University gear. It's not all that cold outside, but I don't want to be cold in the arena, especially sitting that close to the ice. We feel very fancy as an usher walks us over to our section, but once we look around at the family members, I'm glad we bundled up. We fit right in. It looks like mostly parents and grandparents are sitting here, and they all seem to know one another. Linda and I share a popcorn, joking about how bad the guys' hockey gear smells. She snorts and says, "I bet we'll be able to smell their pads from these seats. Look, I can literally bang on the glass if I want to." We're in the second row, but nobody is sitting in front of us yet.

One of the moms walks over and sticks out her hand. "Hi," she says. "I'm Gayle. Tyler's mom." I start to choke on my popcorn, remembering how Tyler had to step over my underwear on the floor of his apartment this morning. She smiles warmly. "We all just had to know who you gals were. Nobody ever sits in Neal's seats."

I flush, realizing that of course this community would be pretty tight. These guys have played together for years--half the team are seniors this year and I heard Neal say they have good chances to win nationals. I take Gayle's hand and introduce myself. Linda butts in and says, "Dahlia is friends with Neal, but she knows Tyler, too. He's nice! I met him last night."

Gayle smiles at this information, but holds onto my hand a minute longer. "I didn't know Neal had any friends special enough to introduce to the family." I don't think it's possible to flush any more deeply, but then I see Coach Thomas saunter in and I feel like I will actually burn up and die. He walks around to all the parents, shaking hands and accepting hugs. When he gets to Linda and me, he stops. I can tell he's confused to see us there, but he puts his smile back on and pats me on the back. "Dahlia, right? Good to see you taking such an interest in our guy on the ice, too!"

I nod and tell him, "I'm happy to come! Neal's been working really hard, but I think he wanted to show me a side of him that comes more naturally." Linda stares at me and Coach Thomas makes a face. I can tell I've said something off, but try to smile and act like there's nothing at all strange about me sitting in seats that evidently are only given to moms and serious girlfriends.

The announcer calls everyone to their seats for the National Anthem just then, and I watch as the Otters skate in with the other team. I read my program to see that we're playing the Lions from some school in Ohio, and I point out Neal to Linda. "I know which one he is, asshole," she says. "I also see Tyler and the other guys from the party last night."

Was that only last night? I start to tune out the crowd then as I watch Neal. He skates over to the bench for a drink of water and as he passes our section, he looks up. I see him smile when we make eye contact and I wave briefly, pulling my hand back then as if I touched something hot. By the look on Linda's face, I can tell that I'm sitting here totally fan-girling Neal, right in front of the moms of all his teammates. I try to rein it in, and we sit back to enjoy the match.

Right away, we can tell that SCU is going to win. Handily. Our guys gel seamlessly, making passes to where the other players are going to be, even before they get there. The Lions don't stand a chance, and thanks to Tyler's quick stick work, we are up two goals by the end of the first period.

Neal's line rotates out for a rest, and he throws off his helmet for a drink. I stare at his sweaty curls, stuck to his cheeks and pressed at all angles from his helmet. After he chugs most of a water bottle he looks up, right into my eyes, and winks. His smile feels contagious, and my body warms despite the cold air in the arena. "Shit, Dahlia, you are in trouble." Linda is staring at me with her mouth hanging open. "You look like…god, you've got it bad for him. I had no idea."

I consider saying something to object, but there's no point. I'm definitely falling for Neal Sweeney.

By the third period, the Lions are playing dirty. I don't know much about hockey, but I can tell they are checking the Otters too roughly, doing things with their sticks to trip the players and block their shots. I can see Neal turning red with anger, and he's not the only one. More than a few times, he slams into the glass in front of me and I jolt backward. I see the moms around me whispering angrily to each other as the Lions trip Tyler. The crowd is on their feet shouting, and Neal flies over to the boards. He throws off his gloves and starts pummeling the player from the other team. They are fighting a few sections down from us, so I can't see his eyes, but I know they are dark with fury.

The other player has thrown his gloves now and they are trading blows. I bite my nails as the entire SCU bench races over and joins the melee. The referees are trying to break it up, and Linda is tugging my arm, shouting, "Dahlia, let's get out of