At first, Aspen was vehement about Jay not waiting for her. They had spoken about it during class: he wanted to walk to school for the game together, and she wanted to do literally anything else. That's not to say she didn't want to walk with Jay because really, she would love to not have to walk alone or ride with her parents. But she knew how nasty the scene in front of the rink's doors would be. She would have to give herself a five minute pep talk just to reach for the handle, and even then she may have to turn tail and walk home.
But then his annoyingly persistent self showed up at her front door at 6:00, and she realized he wasn't giving her much of a choice. The pair walked the short distance to Eden Hall together in almost complete silence, Aspen's untamable fears plaguing her mind far too severely for her to think of conversation. Jay accepted the silence willingly, not bothering with idle, one-sided chatter. No questions were asked, no pitiful "we can go home at any time" reassurances. He just stood by her side as she soldiered on, his presence enough.
When they arrived on campus, Aspen was suddenly extremely grateful for Jay's company. He reached to pull the door to rink open, but she caught his hand before he got far enough. He turned to look at her, and she just shook her head. Understanding that she needed a minute, he took a step back, allowing her to hold onto his hand for comfort. He didn't even squeal when her grip became uncomfortably tight.
After a minute or two, Aspen let go of her best friend. With a final deep breath, she gave him a small nod. For the first time, he spoke. "You sure?" was all he asked. Another nod was all the verification he needed. He led their march into the rink without looking back.
Aspen caught pace with the taller boy's long strides, one of her fists balled up in the bottom of her jersey. As they walked towards the bleachers, she did her very best to stare straight ahead, ignoring the view of the ice that she had from her peripherals. She instead took to glancing around the stands in search of their other two friends. Despite her focused gaze, it was Jay who found them first, giving her arm a light tug in their direction.
Roland and Peter were sitting just two steps up from the ground, something Jay wasn't happy about it in the slightest. "Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning, or do you make sitting in the absolute worst seats a hobby?" he grumbled tartly. He didn't make an effort to sit just yet, instead standing in front of Roland, who looked up at him with a frown.
For a moment, Roland had no response, but no one missed the way that his eyes flickered to Aspen. It clicked in Aspen's head at the same time it clicked in Jay's. Sure, the view would be better from a seat higher up, but Roland and Peter has completely forfeited that once they heard Aspen would be joining them. They wanted to save her the trouble.
Aspen almost wanted to argue, to promise that it wasn't too much trouble, to claim that they didn't need to change their routine for her. But she knew better. Dismissing their efforts would only make Roland feel bad, and at the end of the day, it really was quite sweet of them to take her into consideration. Without saying a word, Aspen lowered herself onto the bleacher beside Peter as Jay bitterly plopped down beside Roland.
For the first time since they entered the building – and for the first time in five years – Aspen begrudgingly raised her gaze to the ice in front of her. The teams hadn't taken to skating for warmups yet, making the rink look a lot less menacing. She felt herself pale a little bit, her stomach churning as that same vicious memory threatened to reveal itself, but she managed to keep the anxiety at bay.
Peter glanced at her out of the corner of his eye before fully turning, a concerned look on his usually playful face. "Hops, you alright?" he asked cautiously. She turned a blank gaze to him, causing his frown to deepen. "You're looking a little pale."
Aspen sucked in a deep breath before nodding. "I'm fine, I'm fine," she promised breathily. When Peter didn't look the least bit convinced, she hesitantly met his gaze. "Not a fan of the ice, that's all," she mumbled under her breath, just loud enough for the boy beside her to hear.
It didn't take long at all for Peter to understand what she meant. Aspen could practically see the gears turn in his head as his frown slowly dissipated. He wrapped his arm around his shoulder, giving her a comforting squeeze. "Don't you worry. I won't let that scary ice come up and bite you," he teased playfully.
Aspen rolled her eyes, but smiled and leaned into his friendly embrace. "I hate you," she muttered. The words, of course, had no meaning, and they both knew it.
Peter chuckled, "I don't believe you."
"Good," she quipped back just as he removed his arm from around her. Maybe someday she'd get around to explaining everything to him and Roland. In fact, she knew she would. Today just wouldn't be that day.
As the clock on the scoreboard drifted closer and closer towards that 6:30 mark, more students and family members poured into the rink. Aspen's parents showed up a little while after she and Jay had, stopping by to say hello to their daughter and her friends. Her mother's joy at seeing her daughter in a hockey jersey was on clear display.
"I'm a bit torn, honestly," Aspen's father admitted in conversation with Jay and Roland. A smile quirked at the wrinkled corner of his mouth. "Of course, I'm going to cheer on my sons. But rooting against Elle feels... wrong."
Aspen crinkled her nose at that. "You're telling me," she grumbled, peeking around Peter to meet her father's gaze. She motioned at the jersey she was wearing. "I turned down two of my friends' jerseys to wear this thing. Joey is lucky I love him."
Aspen's mother smiled. "That he is," she agreed. She placed a gentle kiss on the top her her daughter's head before tugging her husband away from the teenagers. If she hadn't, he would've wasted no time in engaging the two boys on the end in a lengthy discussion of hockey statistics. Whereas Jay was used to it, Roland looked a little out of place the entire time Aspen's parents were standing there.
"They're embarrassing," Aspen huffed almost as soon as the adults walked away. Roland and Peter both just laughed.
"Nah, they just love you," Jay shot back with a smile. The knowing gleam in his eyes told her that he had taken note of her mother's doting smile just as she had. It's as if their little group was in on a secret that the rest of the world didn't know existed -- and in a way, they were.
As much as she complained about her parents being embarrassing, Aspen had to admit to herself that their presence was comforting. With Jay's steady gaze, Peter's playful but sincere concern, and her mother's cautionary happiness, she felt her anxiety slowly lessening. She didn't think that this would be the best night of her life by any stretch, but she was finally beginning to feel content. And at that point, content was all she could ask for.
She drummed her foot absentmindedly against the ground, her gaze wandering around the stands. Her parents had seated themselves with some of the other hockey families on the other side of the bleachers, very clearly avoiding Tom Riley and his wife. Delanie was sitting with her two best friends a few rows back from where Aspen herself was. When she caught the girl's eye, Delanie immediately grinned, quietly excusing herself and hurrying to the bottom of the stands.
She flung her arms around Aspen as soon as she got there. "You did come!" she exclaimed. It wasn't until she pulled away with a smile that Aspen realized what jersey she was wearing.
"I did," Aspen agreed with a short laugh. She perked an eyebrow and layered on her best smirk. "I see that your sense of style has definitely changed."
Delanie's cheeks reddened, but she beamed at the comment. "Believe me, I think I'm just as surprised as you are." She did a small spin to give Aspen a glimpse of the name on the back, giggling the entire time. When she was done, she shook her head as if in disbelief. "Adam Banks is my boyfriend. Never thought I'd say that."
Aspen laughed, shaking her head right along with her. "I can't say I ever thought I'd hear that," she admitted.
Delanie smiled, though she scrunched up her nose when she took note of Aspen's jersey. "You're wearing the wrong colors, Folsom," she teased.
Aspen gave a nonchalant shrug. "Hey. Family first," she countered smugly. A sadder smile littered her lips. "I missed wearing my last name on my back."
An understanding expression flashed across Delanie's face as she nodded solemnly. "I'll bet," was all she said for a short moment. After the pair exchanged a meaningful gaze, Delanie's smile returned. "Well, I should get back up there." She swept her gaze across the three boys next to them before grimacing. "If you need a break, you know where to find me."
Aspen chuckled quietly, but waved her off. "I don't think that'll be too much of an issue, but I'll keep that in mind," she responded with a smile. "See you later, Lanie."
Delanie offered her a farewell, making sure to smile and wave at Roland too. Aspen watched as the girl returned to her seat, only adverting her gaze once she had secured her seat in between her other friends. In the process of returning her attention to the rink and her friends, Aspen spied another, less familiar girl sitting with some other kids from their grade a little ways away. Aspen quietly stewed over her name, clearly recognizing her from one of her classes, but entirely unable to figure out which one.
She leaned over Peter to nudge Roland's shoulder. When the boy turned to her, she nodded at the girl she had noticed. "Do you know that girl? I think she's in..."
Her sentence ended there, and it took Roland a moment to realize why. In the middle of trying to place her identity, the girl in question had turned to speak to someone behind her, giving Aspen a clear view of the name that was on the back of the jersey she was wearing. Any other name and Aspen wouldn't have thought anything of it. Any other number and her stomach wouldn't have dropped. Any other player and her night wouldn't have taken a drastic turn.
But apparently Aspen's rejection of Charlie's jersey had been all the motivation he needed to extend the offer to a different girl. A very pretty brunette girl, who Aspen hardly knew.
I have an extra jersey in my closet that's begging to be worn. Preferably by a pretty brunette.
At least he was honest.
Seeing the look that fell onto Aspen's paled face, Roland didn't bother answering her question. He did know the girl -- she was in two of his classes, including the English class that he and Aspen shared. But it was clear that who she was didn't exactly matter to Aspen. All that mattered was the fact that she was wearing Charlie's jersey. Aspen looked as though she was one breath away from bursting into tears.
Rather than continue her conversation with Roland, she turned to Peter with a shaky tone. "Would you mind switching seats with me?" she asked quietly.
Sensing her emotional tension, Peter wasted no time in moving to sit on the other side of her. Now sandwiched between him and Roland, Aspen silently prayed that she'd be a bit more comforted. It was easy to feel cold and unwanted when on the outside of a group, but not so much when you're squeezed between two broad-shouldered lacrosse players. Maybe she could watch the game and forget all about what she had seen. Maybe it was a misunderstanding that Charlie would explain later.
Even still, despite all of the mental guards she was putting up, she found herself breathing ragged, short breaths. Roland's eyes hadn't strayed from her face since she began speaking to him, his gaze attentive as though he were afraid she would burst into tears at any moment in time. As much as he wished it hadn't happened the way it had, he knew exactly how she felt about Charlie Conway. He saw the glances they exchanged, overhead their playful banter. He had accepted it, and while his heart refused to rescind its one strand of hope, he had been telling himself to move on.
Yet here the two of them were, her anxiety tripled over a single last name, his heart aching over the broken look in her eyes. Aspen's eyes stared blankly ahead, her posture unmoving as both teams took the ice for warm ups. She had chosen to focus on the varsity team for the time being, hoping that the sight of her brothers would mend the aching rift in her chest. For a moment, it worked. As soon as Joey met her gaze, the brightest smile she had ever seen lit up his face. Ten seconds later, it was Caine who caught her eye, sticking his tongue out at her playfully. She even managed a tiny smile.
But then Jay was telling her to look at Elle, who was gawking in their direction. As soon as the two girls made eye contact, the hockey player looked as though she might burst into happy tears. She grinned and beckoned for Connie to look their way. Once Connie looked, Charlie did too. And when Connie made a face and pointed to Aspen's jersey, the brunette hardly had enough heart to motion at the number on her sleeve. Upon seeing the ironed 51 -- her older brother's 51 -- Charlie's eyes widened and his fingers tightened around the stick in his hand.
He met Aspen's gaze, and even through the static in his mind, managed to send her a warm smile -- a smile she made absolutely no effort to return.
His chocolate eyes drifted to the boy next to her, only to find Roland's usually soft jaw hardened into an irritated scowl. The two boys made eye contact, and Charlie had a feeling he knew what was going on. He just made this hockey game a whole lot harder for himself.
For a moment, just after Aspen refocused her gaze on her lap, she wanted to go home. Her heightened anxiety reignited her fear of her surroundings, and she suddenly found herself shrinking against Roland's side. He reached out and took her hand, softly running the pad of his thumb against the back of her knuckles. Like always, his warm touch was comforting. Peter patted her knee as well, and the affection of her two friends brought her back to earth.
When she finally was able to lift her chin once more, her eyes found Joey and Caine, mumbling between themselves near the far boards. They were focused, their handsome faces as set as stone. She was suddenly reminded of all of their childhood games, their practices on the pond, and their strategy meetings at their kitchen table. She remembered the way they did their best to teach her everything they knew, always exhibiting patience when she fell just a bit behind. She remembered how much she loved them, and how much they loved hockey.
And so, despite the stinging twinge in her heart, she stayed rooted to her seat, her fingers clutching onto Roland's hand as though her life depended on it. She didn't once turn to look over her shoulder at the girl who wore the jersey that had so kindly been offered to her, nor did she dare to make eye contact with Delanie, who she hoped was oblivious to the evening's turn. She didn't say much, either. She just watched.
Even as Mei walked by with a smile, even as her mom passed them on her way to the bathroom. Even as Joey and Rick argued on the bench, and as Peter squirmed in his seat, and as Elle threw a punch at a much bigger varisty goon. Even as Goldberg scored and the junior varsity team celebrated their victory. She just watched.
And when all was said and done, there was no meeting Elle and Connie by the locker rooms. There was no comforting pep talk to her brothers, or going out to eat with Roland and Peter. Aspen remained silent, her influx of emotions leaving her a sickly sort of numb.
She had never been so glad to see a hockey season come to an end.