"I - what? That's... no. Really?"
He shrugged.
"Where... do you get the game info from then? The plays?"
"I know the basic rules. I pick up pieces on the Internet, patch it together."
I stared, feeling betrayed. O'Neill was absolutely obsessed with the Detroit Red Wings. That passion shaped his personality and was reflected in his actions: fast, skilled, and at times brutal. Believing Seth to be meticulous about every detail, I had naturally assumed he must know everything about hockey to have written such a defining trait into his protagonist.
Seth watched me, confused by whatever stunned look I wore.
"We're going to a hockey game," I stated.
"No, we - "
"We are going to a hockey game. Hang on a sec."
I ran back downstairs, kicked Doug off our computer, and got the information I needed. It was just as I'd suspected. The Thunderbirds' season had just started.
"Six-thirty," I told Seth, minutes later. "Meet me at Key Arena, at the main window. I'll buy the tickets."
He looked dubious.
"Six-thirty," I repeated. "This'll be great. It'll give you a break and let you actually see what the game's like. Besides, you said you were blocked today."
Not only that, it would fulfill my obligation to Paige in a way that didn't require much talking. The stadium would be too loud, and we'd be too busy watching to need conversation.
"I don't know where Key Arena is."
"You can walk to it from here. Just keep heading for the Space Needle. They're both part of the Seattle Center."
"So when are you meeting me?" There was a warning note in my voice, daring him to cross me.
He grimaced. "Six-thirty."
After work, I set off to run my own errands. I had nothing new to work on with the vampire hunter enigma until Erik got back to me. Unfortunately, the mundane world still had its own share of requirements, and I spent most of my evening taking care of miscellany. Like restocking my supply of cat food, coffee, and Grey Goose. And checking out the new line of lip glosses at the MAC counter. I even remembered to pick up a cheap, assemble-it-yourself bookshelf for the fire-hazard stacks of books in my living room.
My productivity knew no bounds.
For dinner, I grabbed Indian food and managed to land at Key Arena precisely at six-thirty. I didn't see Seth anywhere but didn't panic just yet. The Seattle Center was not easy to navigate; he was probably still wandering around the Needle, trying to make his way over here.
I bought the tickets and sat down on one of the large cement steps. The air had turned chilly tonight, and I snuggled into my heavy fleece pullover, shape-shifting it a bit thicker. While waiting, I people-watched. Couples, groups of guys, and excited children were all turning out for Seattle's fierce little team. They made for interesting viewing.
When six-fifty rolled around, I started getting nervous. We had ten more minutes, and I worried Seth might have gotten seriously lost. I pulled out my cell phone and dialed the store, wondering if he was there. Nope, they told me, but Paige did have his cell number. I tried it next, only to get voice mail.
Annoyed, I snapped my phone shut and huddled farther into my own embrace to stay warm. We still had time. Besides, Seth not being at the store was a good thing. It meant he was on his way.
Yet, when seven and the start of the game arrived, he still wasn't there. I tried his cell again, then looked longingly at the doors. I wanted to see the beginning of the game. Seth might never have watched hockey, but I had and liked it. The continual movement and energy held my attention more than any other sport, even if the fights sometimes made me squirm. I didn't want to miss this, but I'd also hate for Seth to walk up and not know what to do when I wasn't where I said I'd be.
I waited fifteen more minutes, listening to the sounds of the game echoing toward me, before I finally faced the truth.
I had been stood up.
Such a thing was unheard of. It hadn't happened in... over a century. I felt more stunned than embarrassed or angry by the revelation. The whole thing was just too weird to fathom.
No, I decided a moment later, I was mistaken. Seth had been reluctant, yes, but he wouldn't just refuse to come, not without calling. And maybe... maybe something bad had happened. He could have been hit by a car for all I knew. After Duane's death, one could never predict when tragedy might hit.
Yet, until I had more information, the only tragedy I faced now was missing the game. I called his cell again, this time leaving him a message with my number and whereabouts. I would come outside and retrieve him if needed. I went into the game.
Sitting alone made me feel conspicuous, driving home the sadness of my situation. Other couples sat nearby, and a group of guys kept eyeing me, occasionally nudging one of their number who wanted to come talk to me. Being hit on didn't faze me, but looking like I needed it did. I might choose not to date, but that didn't mean I couldn't do it when I wanted. I didn't like others perceiving me as desperate and alone. I felt that way enough sometimes without outside confirmation.
At the first break, I bought a corndog to console myself. While sifting through my purse for cash, I found the slip of paper with Roman's phone number. I stared at it while I ate, remembering his persistence and how bad I'd felt refusing him. My sudden painful abandonment fired the need to hang out with someone, to remind myself I really could have social contact when I wanted.
Common sense froze me briefly as I was about to dial, cautioning that I would be breaking my decades-long vow of not dating nice guys. There were more prudent ways to deal with an unused hockey ticket, that reasonable inner voice reminded me. Like Hugh or the vampires. Calling one of them would provide a safer interaction.
But... but they treated me like a sister, and while I loved them like family too, I didn't want to be a sister just now. And anyway, it wasn't like this was even a real date. This would be a simple matter of companionship. Plus, the same precautions it had provided for Seth - lack of interaction - applied for Roman too. It would be perfectly safe. I dialed the number.
"Hello?"
"I'm tired of holding on to your coat."
I could hear his smile on the other end. "I figured you'd thrown it away by now."
"Are you crazy? It's a Kenneth Cole. Anyway, that's not really why I called."
"Yeah, I figured."
"Do you want to come to a hockey game tonight?"
"When does it start?"
"Um, forty minutes ago."
A Seth-worthy pause.
"So, you just now thought to invite me?"
"Well... the person I was going with didn't exactly show up."
"And now you call me?"
"Well, you were so adamant about going out."
"Yes, but I'm... wait a minute. I'm your second choice?"
"Don't think of it like that. Think of it as more like, I don't know, you're stepping up to fulfill what someone else couldn't."
"Like the Miss America runner-up?"
"Look, are you coming or not?"
"Very tempting, but I'm busy right now. And I'm not just saying that either." Another pause. "I'll stop by your place after the game, though."
No, that wasn't how this was supposed to play out. "I'm busy after the game."
"What, you and your no-show have other plans?"
"I... no. I have to... put together a bookcase. It's going to take a while. Hard work, you know?"
"I excel at that handy-type stuff. I'll see you in a couple hours."
"Wait, you can't - " The phone disconnected.
I closed my eyes in a moment of exasperation, opened them, then returned to the action on the ice. What had I just done?
After the game, I skulked back home. The elation of winning couldn't overpower the anxiety of having Roman in my apartment.
"Aubrey," I said upon entering, "what am I going to do?"
She yawned, revealing her tiny, domestic-sized fangs. I shook my head at her.
"I can't hide under the bed like you. He won't fall for it."
Both of us jumped at the sudden knock at the door. For half a second, I did consider the bed before deigning to let Roman in. Aubrey studied him a moment, then - apparently being too overwhelmed at the sight of a sex god in our midst - darted off for my bedroom.
Roman, casually dressed, stood bearing a six-pack of Mountain Dew and two bags of Doritos. And a box of cereal.
"Lucky Charms?" I asked.