CHAPTER FIVE
After the meeting with Ranger Bill on the beach, we went back to our hotel and I promptly passed out on my bed. The late night, the travels and the change of location did a number on my mind. Like usual, I had a bizarre dream that I couldn’t quite remember as soon as I woke. Normally I was so good at remembering the details but lately I just couldn’t. Though, perhaps that was a good thing. Some nightmares were best left forgotten.
The game was at 7 p.m., so I was putting the finishing touches of my makeup on and listening to the band Mini Mansions on my iPhone speaker when there was a knock at my door. It was Dex, who walked in wearing a ratty black and yellow Canucks jersey and holding a new, smaller blue one in his hands.
“Uh?” I asked, pointing at it.
“You listening to ELO?” he asked, peering at my phone.
“No. What is this?”
“Oh, I went for a walk, thought you should wear this.”
He pushed the jersey into my hands. It was my size and not as hideously ugly as the one he was wearing. But still. Confusion.
“You bought me a Canucks jersey?” I asked. “I don’t even know if I like the team. Or any team, for that matter. Or the game.”
“You will. And you’re welcome.”
“I thought you were a Rangers fan. You grew up in New York, didn’t you?”
“I was, now I’m not and I did, but I’m not in New York anymore. Either way, it’s going to be an exciting game and I would be honored if you would slip that jersey over your pretty little head and wear it tonight.”
I wondered if he ever tried to dress Jenn up, too, and drag her out to games. But there was no way I was bringing that up. I was getting the distinct impression that Jenn was a touchy subject this weekend, though I wasn’t sure why. Maybe they had a fight or something. I can’t say that didn’t tickle the back of my head in a delightful way.
So I decided to be a good sport, be the anti–Jenn if you will, and put on the jersey. I was only wearing a thin, long–sleeved shirt at the moment anyway. I walked over to the mirror and peered at myself. It didn’t look half bad. It was a bit tight around the boobs; Dex somehow had underestimated them, but it flowed loosely everywhere else.
“Really brings out your eyes,” Dex said, standing behind me, meeting my gaze in the mirror’s reflection. It was almost romantic. Then he said, “They aren’t as angry as usual.”
I mustered up the best glare I could, hoping it might shatter the glass in the mirror.
“Yes, that’s the look,” he remarked with a nod.
I tugged the jersey down further and walked over to my phone and switched off the music. Then I had to quickly check my emails to see what was being said on the blogosphere.
He followed me over to the bed and snatched the phone out of my hands.
“What are you doing?” I cried out.
“I hope you realize that I didn’t pay extra for the wireless here and if you’re using roaming on your phone, it’s going to be retardedly expensive.”
“I just need to check something,” I explained, making a grab for it.
He held it high above his head, which was too far for me to reach. I was only 5’2” after all.
“What are you checking?”
“None of your business!”
“I think it is… if you’re checking those blog comments, it’s only going to bring down your whole weekend. We’re here now, and there’s nothing you can do about them. Haters gonna hate.”
I hated that saying.
“I have to promote on Twitter,” I stammered. That was the truth.
“I’ve seen your Twitter. You’ve got haters on there too.”
That wasn’t true. On Twitter I was amassing a range of followers who genuinely seemed interested in me and the show. Twitter had become something of an addiction for me. I probably checked it at least once an hour, which probably was racking up a huge bill while I was in another country.
“I have to text my sister.”
“I’ll text her for you,” he said, and brought the phone up to his face.
I almost agreed to that until I remembered the last text Ada had sent me, about an hour ago. It said, “Are you guys humping like bunnies yet?”
Horror filled me with a jolt and I lunged for the phone while a “Nooooooo!” escaped from my mouth. I nearly knocked Dex backwards. He looked pretty shocked at my outburst and quickly tossed the phone back at me.
“OK, OK. No need to go apeshit here. Save that for the game.”
I quickly stuffed the phone into my jean pocket for added security.
“Just promise that you’ll just use your phone for texting and to stay in touch with your family.”
“Why do you care?” I asked, grabbing my purse and coat.
“I just do,” was his answer. I could tell he wanted to say more but he kept his mouth shut this time, for whatever reason.
Soon we were out on the streets and heading towards the game. It was a bit darker here than it was in Portland and people were out and about, milling on the streets, a mix of early–bird party brats, homeless people and all–around weirdos. It reminded me a lot of home.
The hockey games were housed at a large arena downtown and judging by the number of people in blue jerseys as we got closer, it was the place to be tonight. Without knowing much about the game or the team, I could see that hockey fever in this town was a very contagious and highly flamboyant disease. By the time we reached the steps that led us up into the building, I couldn’t help but feel as excited as everyone else seemed to be.
We made our way up to the level where our seats were (I got a few random high fives from overzealous drunk boys) and Dex immediately made a beeline for the concession stand, where he was hell bent on getting us beers.
“As long as you’re buying,” I said, eyeing the prices. Eight bucks for a beer seemed like highway robbery but I figured it was all part of the experience. And since he was paying, I wasn’t arguing. Dex and I never really got drunk around each other, so it was nice to actually just be real people and have a fun Friday night instead of worrying about ghosts showing up to spoil the show.
Dex handed me my beers – yeah, we got two each, stocking up you know – and walked up through the entrance until we were overlooking the arena.
He said he had gotten the tickets from his boss, Jimmy Kwan. Or should I say, our boss Jimmy Kwan. I’d only met Jimmy the one time when Dex was trying to sell him on the show and I hated him immediately, thanks to his terribly rude personality. He pretty much called me fat and ugly and laughed me out of the office. Well, I might be exaggerating but it was enough to reduce me to tears. But Jimmy also had a million connections and apparently hockey tickets were one of those perks. I probably shouldn’t complain too much about the guy who is paying my meager hourly wage but, hey.
The seats were in the nosebleed section of the arena but luckily from the way the place was laid out, it seemed even the cheap seats got a pretty awesome view of the hockey rink. The seats were also on the aisle, which meant we didn’t have to squeeze past the fans with our overflowing cups of beer in hand.
The tension and excitement in the air was thick and kinetic. The arena smelt like a mixture of ice, chemically cheesed nachos, and stale beer. The people around us were shit–talking the Rangers, which took precedence over the terrible anthem music blaring from the speakers.
“Good thing you’re not a Rangers fan tonight,” I told Dex as he flipped through the game leaflet some kids at the door were handing out.
He shook his head and placed the leaflet in my free hand. “You should probably read up on this, get to know the roster.” He jabbed it with his finger.
I eyed it briefly. “Are you sure you weren’t a teacher in another life?”
He laughed at that. It was nice to see it reach his eyes.
“We would all be doomed.”
I shrugged. “We pretty much already are.”
“Kiddo, I’m afraid you’re the only person who actually listens to me,” he said, peeling the lid off of his beer cup. I knew that wasn’t true. Jimmy seemed to cave into whatever Dex asked of him, and my own parents were somehow shown the light within minutes of meeting him.