Meant For You

twenty-two.

Nola Scott

Yesterday may have been a shitshow all around, but today had started out decent.

I went into today's practice with a clearer head. This amazingly affected my skating. There were still mistakes I was making but they were all minor. I was hitting my jumps and spins and slowly my routine was coming together. By the time I left practice eight hours later, I was excited about tonight's plans.

My brothers had both agreed to come with me tonight and Brooks was the most excited. We've never actually been to a hockey game before since football and baseball are the most watched sport in our household. It would be our first time tonight and we were excited. I picked them up from Oak Hill after practice and we arrived at the stadium an hour before face-off.

Brooks had complained the whole ride here that he didn't have a jersey so we went to the shop at the arena and bought him a Drew Anderson jersey. After that, we got a couple of snacks and made our way to our seats. Turns out they were seats behind the LA Kings bench. "Oh my God, Miles is fucking awesome!" Brooks says as we sit down, each of my brothers on either side of me.

I glare at my younger brother. "Don't curse," I snap at him. He rolls his eyes and turns his attention from the ice where the Oilers are practicing before the game. "So you and Dempsey are friends now?" Kayce questions as our little brother is distracted by the view on the ice. I could see the look on Kayce's face the whole car ride. He's been dying to bring this up because he was there when I had my little fit about hating Miles those months ago.

"We've grown," is my short response. Kayc raises a brow at my words. "I can't have friends?" I question when my answer isn't enough for him. He chuckles, turning his face away from me. "Oh, sister." Before I can ask him what he means by that, a man is stepping at our side. "Nola, Brooks, and Kayce Scott?" the man dressed up in a security outfit asks. Both of my brothers look at me to answer. "Yes, that's us," I say with a sweet smile.

The security guard returns it and then hands each of us a VIP Wristband. "Those are to get you all back in the locker room area so don't remove them or they won't let you in," he tells us. Brooks is gasping in surprise. "Thank you!" I greet him before he walks off. "We get to go back there?!" Brooks says excitedly. I shrug my shoulders. "Miles didn't mention anything about this," I say honestly, helping him put on the bracelet.

"This is sick!" my little brother says, shoving popcorn in his mouth. "He really wanted you to be here, didn't he?" Kayce questions. I tilt my head at my brother. "It's not what you think. At all," I assure him. He holds his hands up in defense. "Just be careful, little sister," he tells me. "I am, Kayc. But you have nothing to worry about. We're just friends." That I'm one hundred percent about.

***

The game whizzes by. In the first half, the Kings were doing great on both offense and defense. They made one goal in the first period while the Oilers made two. In the second period, they made two more but so did the Oilers. There was only one minute left in the game and the Kings were down by one. "Are we about to go into overtime?" Brooks yelled over the loud fans. I couldn't focus on him or anything else other than that damn puck.

It was currently at the end of a Kings players stick which was good but they were struggling on offense. "C'mon, c'mon!" I say as I nervously watch the game. The pick is passed over to Miles who starts skating quickly toward their goal. Everyone in the arena is on their feet at this point and as the clock winds down, he shoots the puck into the net. The goalie barely stops it and the buzzer blares. Faint cheers from the couple hundred Oilers fans in attendance are the only sound heard.

I feel a pang of disappointment shoot through me. The Kings winning streak is finally over. The fans quickly leave the arena and the players go back into the locker room looking quite deflated. "Come on guys, let's go home," I tell the boys. "Wait, no! We have these passes, Nola!" Brooks reminds me, lifting his hand to show me the bracelet on his wrist. "Well, yeah, but they lost. Miles probably won't be the happiest after missing that shot," I argue.