Aurora wasn't sure what she expected out of these supposed "really nice seats" that Georgia's law firm had access to, but she definitely wasn't expecting second row beside the home bench. When they'd entered the arena and headed down the stairs, Aurora kept expecting Georgia to pull over into a row halfway down the section, but they just kept walking downwards.
"These seats are awesome aren't they!" Georgia exclaimed, and Aurora couldn't deny it. They were amazing seats, and if she was anyone else, she would have been ecstatic but she was too focussed on regulating her breathing to pay any mind to what Georgia was chatting her ear off about. "I might've fibbed to my boss and said you were a potential client, and that's how I got the tickets but it doesn't really matter- I mean I am trying to woo you." That statement had Aurora's head whipping to face the taller girl.
"Georgia!" Aurora said in shock, "You lied to your boss?"
"Not lied, fibbed. There's a difference." Georgia replied with a shrug of her shoulders, her blonde ponytail swaying with the movement.
No one could deny that Georgia was a beautiful girl- she'd probably be better suited up in the box with the wives and girlfriends, no one would question her with her pointed toe heels, and blue blazer. Aurora was envious of her mile-long legs, cheekbones carved from the gods, and naturally sun-bleached hair.
It wasn't that Aurora thought that she wasn't pretty- she just wasn't supermodel pretty like Georgia was. It seemed like she hadn't grown since she was 15, never surpassing 5'5, and her one-dimensional brown hair never seemed to stand out in a crowd. In the summer she would get a nice bronze to her skin, a row of freckles would become pronounced on her nose, but now, in late November, she seemed almost as pale as the sheet of ice in front of her.
Just as Aurora went to rebuttal Georgia's statement about her fib, and tell her that lying to her superior would never end up well, a horn sounded and a rush of players in blue came out onto the ice in front of the girls. Georgia let out a little shriek beside her, and gripped her knee a little too tightly as she watched her home team head out onto the ice.
The players skated past them quickly, shooting pucks at the empty net for warm-ups- and once they'd all had their turn they split to do whatever their pre-game routine entailed. Aurora watched as some of them worked on handles, some stretched at the blue-line, and others continued shooting into the net. The two girls were surrounded by people holding signs who had come from higher up in the sections to try and get the attention of their favourite players. She looked around at the faces of kids around her, smiles splitting their entire faces, and some older teen girls with their faces completely done up, wearing either jerseys, or tops just a bit too low cut for a Tuesday evening game.
A player wearing number 6 skated right up to their side of the arena and tapped the glass in front of a small boy holding a sign. He balanced a puck in his stick before launching it up and over the boards and into the child's mothers hands. The player tapped the glass once more, gave the kid a cheesy smile and then skated away to continue with his warmups.
With her shoulder pressed against the glass of the home bench, Aurora watched as the equipment manager organised all of the extra gear behind the bench. He had extra sticks for each of the players, and an extra roll of tape on the lip of the boards. Georgia was in the midst of explaining to Aurora who each player was, and she seemed to know everything- number, first and last name, how long they'd played with the club- when another player skated to the bench and began a conversation with the equipment manager.
Aurora completely tuned out the other girl when she caught a glimpse of the back of his jersey.
Hughes 43
Huh. She thought. Her eyes followed the stitching of the jersey up to the back of his head. Small tufts of hair were poking out of the bottom of his helmet. It couldn't be. You would have known. Her mind was screaming at her. Her brother had been in the league for years now, she would've known if he'd been there.
As he turned his head to grab a new stick from behind the bench, she saw his face. He'd aged, but so had she. The last time she'd seen him had been seven years ago. There was no mistaking his face. His nose and jaw were the same, he had a little scruff on his cheeks- almost as if he tried to grow a beard but couldn't quite get there. The only thing that was different was his eyes. They were still soft, the way they used to be when he'd listen to her gab for hours. But they had dark circles underneath them, like he hadn't slept in ages.
As if he could feel her scrutinising gaze on him, he turned his head. Aurora watched as his eyes darted around her face, trying to place her. His mouth was slightly agape- the equipment manager was still speaking to him, holding a stick out for him to grab, which he tried to do blindly before closing his fist tightly and dropping his arm onto the boards beneath him.
Their eyes were still connected almost as if he couldn't bring himself to break their gaze- as if she would disappear back into the figment he dreamed up deep in his mind.
She broke the gaze first but only to get a better look at his face, now that he was fully turned towards her.
The mole on his cheek was still there, the beginnings of a moustache over his top lip moved as his lips formed on word. She couldn't hear it but there was no mistaking what he said. The nickname she hadn't heard since the last day they spent on the swingset. The one that she refused to be called for her entire adult life- reserved for just him.
He mouthed Rory.
YOU ARE READING
forget me not ~ q.hughes
Fanfiction"And I won't confess that I waited, but I let the lamp burn As the men masqueraded, I hoped you'd return With your feet on the ground, tell me all that you'd learned 'Cause love's never lost when perspective is earned And you said you'd come and get...
