The Inside Edge: Chapter Eight

Brianne blinked stupidly as the mass of bodies jostled past her for the doors that lead into the concessions and main lobby of the hockey arena. Then she blinked again. She’d enjoyed it. She’d actually enjoyed watching the hockey game. Mentally shaking her head as she and Danette slowly rose to their feet, the boys of each hockey team having long since exited the ice, she felt something warm spread in her stomach.

            “And they won.”  The words, slipping softly out of her mouth, filled Brianne with a surprising amount of pride.

            “Well, of course they did!” Danette said, elbowing Brianne and letting out a friendly cackle. “You call yourself a fan, you better start at least pretending to have confidence in our team.”

            Brianne recoiled as they reached the stadium stairs. “No, I didn’t mean it like that…”

            Glancing back at her, Danette winked. “There are rules, all the same.”

            Laughing weakly, not entirely sure if she’d offended Danette or not, Brianne nodded. “Got it.”

            “Let’s see.” Tapping a finger against her chin as they descended the steps, Danette seemed to be in deep thought for a moment. “Riley High School. Biggest rival. So you need to be extra competitive that night.”

            Brianne nodded again. Emptily. Unsure if she’d somehow managed to lose the thread of their conversation that quickly.

            “If Betsy is working concessions, you want to keep her updated on the score every time you go inside to buy something, or go to the ladies room, that kind of thing. It goes a long way.”

            “Yeah?” The word was weak, soft. Brianne felt her body tensing, her heart constricting at uncomfortably. Danette was making a lot of assumptions here. A lot of expectations…all but insisting, taking it for granted that Brianne would make such a strong commitment to the team.

            Only. Well, sure she’d had fun tonight but Brianne hadn’t necessarily intended to make this a weekly activity.

            “Oh. And Wolf Halverson.” Nodding pointedly, Danette gestured to a thin man who must have been pushing eighty, standing just inside the concession area, leaning against the bank of windows looking out onto the rink. “He’s sort of the club’s unofficial mascot. Wave or say ‘hi’ when you walk past. It’s a sign of respect.”

            “Right.”

            “Other than that—”

            “Hey! Look, it’s Ms. Kelling! Ms. Kelling!”

            At the sound, more voices joined in:

            “She came!”

            “I told you she’d come.”

            “Shut up, Cory.”

            “Ms. Kelling!”

            Whipping her head around, Brianne had just enough time to spy a couple of heads poking around a door situated down on of the many wide corridors branching off from the main concessions areas of the lobby before, with a flash, she found herself watching half the hockey team stumble through the doorway, still wearing their hockey jerseys.

            Must have been the boy’s locker room, she mused.

            But that was about all the time she had remaining for such idle curiosity. At the clattering sound of the boisterous teenagers spilling into the lobby, Brianne was sudden the focus of everyone’s attention. And that meant everyone.  

            Feeling as though the entirety of the hockey arena had suddenly come to a hushed, standstill, feeling as though all the eyes in the building had suddenly taken notice of the petite stranger with short brown hair standing so awkwardly in the dimly-lit space, Brianne took a deep breath.

            Then she smiled. Tightly. Lifting her hand, she offered the boys a small finger wave. “Hey guys.”

            Almost as though they’d planned it, choreographed it, the boys all smiled in unison, their fisted hands thrusting high into the air as they chanted wildly, crying out their win…almost as though she’d rallied them up instead of offering a half-hearted greeting.  

            All the same, their energy was contagious. And flattering. Brianne started to smile and then—

            “I’m sorry. I’m not sure we’ve met?”

            At the sound of the cool question, called out in soft feminine tones, Brianne turned to find herself staring into the quiet but no less intense gaze of a woman who, by the crossed-arm stance, decided her fate as one of the boys’ mom’s.

            “Oh.” Ducking her head the slightest bit, Brianne offered her a large smile. Sticking out her hand, she watched nervously as a small circle suddenly formed around her, parents crowding her on all sides as she shook the woman’s hand. “No, I don’t think so. My name is Brianne. Brianne Kelling.”

            “And how do you know the boys?”

            Fighting the instinctive desire to shrink even smaller, Brianne tried to produce a flippant laugh. It wasn’t a terrible effort. “Well…” waving generally toward the boys, if for no other reason than to get the group of eyes off of her for a moment, Brianne explained: “They’ve sort of been teaching me how to skate.”

            Glancing back at the woman, Brianne saw the tail end of her raised, incredulous eyebrows. “Really?”

            “They took mercy on me,” Brianne mumbled, feeling the weight of judgement circling around her chest as all those eyes continued to stare her down—how many people were huddled together? Ten? Twelve? The men were glowering. The women tight-lipped. Protective. Curious. Unsettled.  

            At her words, however, Charlie started laughing. He laughed so hard that he actually bent down and slapped his hand against the side of his hockey pads. Cory chimed in, his low chuckle bouncing off the cinderblock walls. “You could say that again. Guys, do you remember how terrible she was that first day?”

            “All flailing arms and screams.”

            “I did not scream,” Brianne insisted, her cheeks warming uncomfortably.

            “You screamed a bit.”

            The contradiction, and the unexpected sound of Coach’s voice, cut through the room. Jerking her head up and around, Brianne spied him standing just behind the boys. In the gathering crowd she hadn’t seen him approach. Thankfully, his voice commanded not only her attention; with relief, Brianne felt the weight of public eyes leave her person as heads shifted, a few chuckles riddling the air.

            She was grateful for his distracting presence, even if he had just made fun of her.

            “But you also caught on quick,” Coach added, giving her a small smile.

            And just like that, the proverbial snap of a finger, all eyes were back on her again. Bopping uncomfortably on her feet, Brianne tried to act natural, but her shoulders were stiff, her eyes not quite meeting those of the gawkers around her.

            “Yeah, well, they’re good teachers,” she offered weakly. Her palms were sweating. Taking a determined step backward, her mouth forming a quick apology when she backed into someone—though she didn’t stop moving, forcing that person to side-step out of her way—Brianne lifted her chin just the slightest bit as her eyes caught Coach’s gaze. “But anyway…I should, ah, I actually have to get going.”

            With a flick, she let her eyes glance toward the hockey team. Her smile softened then, became a little more natural as she said: “Great game, guys. And thank you. For inviting me to come and watch.”

            Brianne wondered if she perhaps shouldn’t have made that last comment, especially as she saw parent’s heads swivel yet again, going from her to their kids and then Coach. Then again…she wasn’t about to stick around long enough to find out one way or the other. Turning a deaf ear, Brianne spun on her heel, her head buzzing with the sound of continued chattering…

            “Bye Ms. Kelling!”

            “See you Sunday!”

            “Thanks for coming.”

            That woman’s voice again. “They’re teaching her how to skate?”
            Coach. “Yes. As a team.”

            “Well shoot,” a masculine voice said. “Is that what’s different?”

            “Absolutely.”

            “Huh. Well…I mean, she seems nice.”

            Coach chuckled, the sound just reaching Brianne as her hand brushed up against the door. “Nice doesn’t enter into it. She’s our secret weapon.”

            Pushing through the door, pretending she was out of earshot, Brianne frowned as she marched across the crunch of snow lightly covering the parking lot. She wasn’t altogether sure she appreciated being recruited as a secret weapon.

            And dammit, she was nice and it wouldn’t have hurt that man to acknowledge it.

            It wasn’t until Brianne was pulling into her designated parking spot outside her apartment complex that she realized that she’d never said goodbye to Danette. Crinkling her forehead as she alit from her vehicle, Brianne couldn’t actually remember seeing Danette after the boys had created such a ruckus. Walking up the stairs and across the courtyard to her front door, Brianne stuck her key in the lock automatically as a lowering thought settled on her shoulders.

            She hadn’t seen her because she’d forgotten about her.

            Worse, Brianne had forgotten her because, unlike Danette, the other parents had shown an interest in Brianne—something it was clear they’d never thought to do with the other woman. Never mind the fact that Brianne hadn’t wanted or welcomed their attention, she’d gotten it.

            The outsider had been thrust into a group of insiders.

            Only, she’d left someone behind.

            “Well, fuck,” Brianne muttered. It was hardly her fault, hardly her responsibility to include Danette, a woman she hadn’t even known three hours earlier…and yet, the pit in her stomach only widened.

            After all, she knew only too well the terrible ache of being alone. Of watching from the outside. Of not feeling like she was enough.

            “Well. Fuck.”