Valerie

16 - Val

"Mister Marcus Williamson has reserved these seats for you."

"For us?" Mable mumbled in awe.

The man rolled his eyes and looked entirely bored with our constant questioning and said, "Yes, you."

We both sat down, deciding to not question him any further, waiting for the game to begin.

Once the man had walked away, I decided to take in my surroundings. Many people were wearing blue but a couple were wearing red. The colours of the teams.

Then I paid more attention to what people were wearing and realised that there was an overwhelming number of people wearing blue jerseys with '8' on it.

Mable seemed to notice this too because she said, "Someone's popular."

"I wonder who number 8 is." I returned.

Before we could talk more on the matter, a man over the loud speaker started talking, saying who the teams were etc.

The red team came out and they waved to the crowd, gaining a couple of cheers before taking their positions.

Then the blues came out.

At the front, leading them was Thomas and right behind him was Marcus.

Thomas looked grumpy as per usual. I rolled my eyes at the sight of his seemingly permanent frown.

Marcus gave him a slight nudge and then he reluctantly raised a hand to wave to the stands and the crowd went wild. It was only when he turned around, that I saw. Thomas was number 8. Of course Thomas was number 8.

His hair was peeking out from underneath his helmet and i could make out the shape of his strong muscles even underneath his jersey.

He was breathtaking.

Then Marcus turned around and his jersey said... '5'?

I looked at Mable at the same time that she turned her head to look at me.

"Maybe he has the wrong jersey on?" Mable offered.

I narrowed my eyes onto the rink and my eyes caught on Simon.

Sure enough, his jersey said '11' on it. Fucker.

"That's so weird why would he do that?" Mable asked.

"I'm guessing to piss Marcus off." I said.

"I don't think Marcus cares." Mable scoffed.

"Sure, because inviting you and your friend to his hockey game, buying our tickets and reserving the best seats in the house for us doesn't scream obsessed with you." I rolled my eyes.

"You're one to talk." She folded her arms across her chest.

"What?" I asked, genuinely confused.

It was Mable's turn to roll her eyes. "Thomas?" She said, side-eyeing me.

As she said this, Marcus and Thomas turned around, scanning the crowd for something and their eyes instantly caught on us.

Thomas smiled (the first smile of this game so far despite the army of people calling his name) as his eyes landed on mine and then his eyes slid lower to the massive '11' on my chest. His smile vanished and I sunk lower into my seat, wanting to disappear.

Did he think that I was supporting Simon? Did I care if he thought that?

Thomas tapped Marcus and he turned to us. His smile immediately dropped as well.

They looked at each other, looked at us again and then looked at Simon.

Mable and I looked at each other, then at Marcus and Thomas and then at Simon who was grinning wildly, watching this unfold.