Never Forgotten

by Kelly Risser

  "This is where he plays?” I glanced in awe at the long building in front of us. Families were pouring in, tickets in hand. My experience with sporting events was limited to the handful of times that Mom took me to Milwaukee for a basketball game. That arena was big, but I’d never been to one like this before.

  “Yep,” Katie said. “Hockey’s pretty popular here.”

  “That’s an understatement,” said Jen, one of Katie’s best friends, who joined us for the game.

  “Is your friend Ula coming, Meara?” Katie asked. “Or should we just get our tickets?”

  I frowned at her. “I think she’s coming. Didn’t Evan say he got us the tickets?”

  “He did.” She pointed to the ticket windows. “We need to go to Will Call and pick them up.”

  “Oh, okay. Well, I guess she’s not coming. Otherwise, she’d be here by now. I asked her to meet me by the ticket counter.”

  “We can walk closer and look,” Jen suggested.

  As we neared the ticket area, I saw a girl who looked like Ula, although her back was to us. She appeared to be having an intense conversation with a tall man. I couldn’t see his face that clearly, since he was wearing a baseball cap pulled low over his eyes, but his arms and chest were well defined under his snug Mooseheads t-shirt. He raised his head and nodded in our direction, and the girl turned. It was Ula. She smiled and waved before turning back to the guy and giving him a firm push on the chest that clearly said go away. He shook his head and laughed at her. He was easily a foot taller, so her push had no impact on him. He gave a short wave in our direction before turning and walking away. Ula watched him leave and then ran over.

  “Meara! Good to see you!”

  She gave me quick hug. When she pulled back, I introduced her to Katie and Jen. Katie seemed amused by Ula’s outfit, which today consisted of bell-bottom jeans and a Beetles t-shirt.

  “She has great vintage clothes, don’tcha think?” I asked.

  “Absolutely!” Jen gushed. “Where did you find that t-shirt?”

  Katie and I left Ula and Jen chatting clothes while we went to the Will-Call window to get our tickets. Katie whistled when she saw them.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Evan got us front row center, near the penalty box.”

  “Is that good?”

  “It’s great,” she said. “We’ll be able to see everything.”

  I hoped the tickets weren’t too expensive. I asked Katie as much on our way back to Jen and Ula.

  “It’s fine, Meara,” she said. “Evan can get free tickets to give to family and friends. I’m sure he’s just happy that you’re here.”

  We passed through the turnstiles. The smell of freshly popped corn, hot dogs, and pizza assaulted me. My stomach rumbled.

  Ula laughed. “Should we get snacks before we find our seats?”

  I ordered nachos and a large Diet Coke. Katie got a soft pretzel, and Jen bought cotton candy. Ula didn’t buy anything.

  “I ate just before I got here,” she told us.

  We walked around the arena until we found the right section. Then we headed down to the front row. By the time we took our seats, I was impressed with how close we were. The guys were on the ice, warming up. I figured out which team was Evan’s, but with all the padding layers and helmets, I had no idea which player he was. Katie nudged me with her elbow and pointed.

  “That’s Evan, number 14.”

  As she was talking, he skated over and along the glass, winking as he passed. He had a patch on his uniform that set him apart from his teammates.

  “Why does Evan’s uniform have a patch?” I asked.

  “He’s the captain,” Katie said.

  “He’s the captain?” Why didn’t he ever mention it to me?

  Jen nodded enthusiastically. “Oh yeah. Evan’s great at hockey.”

  Ula was quiet. I looked over and saw her scanning the crowd. Her eyes settled on someone, and she scowled. I followed her gaze.

  “Who’s that?” I asked. It looked like it might be the tall guy from earlier. At least, I could make out similar baseball cap and t-shirt, but he was too far away to see any real details.

  “Someone annoying,” Ula said. “He’s not important.”

  “Is that the guy you were talking to outside? Is he your boyfriend or something?” Jen asked. By now, all of us were staring at him.

  “Ex,” she stressed, “but yes. Something like that.”

  He waved at us again. He obviously knew we were watching.

  “Just ignore him,” Ula muttered. She looked annoyed. I wondered what happened between them.

  The buzzer sounded, announcing the start of the first period. Evan squared off against the captain of the other team, the hockey puck dropped, and the game began.

  The game was fast paced, and yet, by the first break, I had a good idea of what was going on. The crowd, loud and boisterous, chanted and jeered in a way that seemed almost choreographed. “Sieve, Sieve!” Katie and Jen yelled.

  Once we learned the common phrases, Ula and I joined them. At the end of the second period, we all yelled, “How much time is left?”

  We cracked up when the announcer replied, “One minute left in the period.”

  Evan scored three goals that period and assisted with four others. It was a high-scoring game and, by the middle of the third period, Evan’s team was ahead of the other team by two. He scored again, and I whistled and cheered. My friends joined me.

  “He’s really good,” Ula said.

  “He’s great!” Jen shouted. “Go Evan!”

  Katie put her fingers to her mouth and whistled shrilly. “That’s my brother,” she said and grinned. “I told you, Meara. He’s pretty amazing at hockey.”

  I was stunned, proud, and flabbergasted as to why someone as talented as Evan was interested in me.

  The buzzer sounded the end of the game, and we jumped up. The teams lined up on the ice and shook hands. Katie gathered our wrappers and stuff.

  “C’mon, let’s go,” she said.

  “Why the rush?” I asked.

  “The team’s signing autographs. I thought you’d like to meet some of the players.”

  “Do you know them all?” Ula asked.

  “Not all,” Katie said, “but most. Evan’s had a few over to the house for dinner or whatever.” She smiled at Jen and Ula. “They’re pretty cute.”

  By the time we reached the lobby, long lines had formed for the signing. I noticed the teenage girls and again wondered why Evan chose me. I must have frowned at them, because Katie patted my arm.

  “Don’t you worry, girlfriend,” she said. “Evan only has eyes for you. Trust me.”

  Evan signed pictures and interacted with his fans, ruffling little boys’ hair and shaking people’s hands. I noticed the other players doing similar things. Some flirted a bit with the teenage girls, but Evan never did. He smiled politely and moved them on.

  It didn’t take too long to reach the front of the line. Evan grinned at me. “What would you like me to write, young lady?”

  “Hmm…” I played along, pretending to contemplate. “How about ‘to my biggest fan’?”

  “That’s a pretty big role to fill,” he teased.

  “I think I’m up for the challenge.”

  Evan nudged his teammate next to him. “Phil,” he said, “this is my girlfriend, Meara.”

  Phil looked at me and grinned. “Nice to meet cha.”

  Katie cleared her throat behind me, so Evan added, “And of course, you’ve already met my sister, Katie, and this is her friend, Jen.” Evan paused when he got to Ula. He hadn’t met her yet.

  “This is my friend, Ula,” I told him. “From the clinic?”

  “A pleasure to meet you,” Ula said and shook his hand.

  “Hello, ladies.” Phil tipped his baseball cap.

  “You bringing ‘em to the party later, Mitchell?” This came from the guy sitting on the other side of Phil.

  “Do you want to go
?” Evan asked us, and I looked at Katie.

  “Sure!” she said.

  Evan looked pleased. “We’ve got about fifteen more minutes of signing, Coach will want to run through a few things, then we can change and get going.”

  “Where should we meet you?” Katie asked. “I don’t want to sit in my car for forty-five minutes.”

  “How about The Goal Post?” Evan suggested. I had no idea what it was, but it sounded like a sports bar or restaurant.

  “Okay,” Katie said. “We’ll just order an appetizer or something.”

  “I’ll be there as soon as I can,” Evan promised. “An hour or less.”

  “Hey…are you girls almost done yet? My kid wants an autograph.” This came from a grumpy-looking man behind us. His son was a chubby middle schooler who looked more interested in us than the hockey players.

  I smiled apologetically. “We’re leaving now. See you soon, Evan.”