She pulls up one from the game last night. “This was right before he scored his third goal of the night. He already knew he was victorious before he even did it. You can see it in his face, the determination in his stance as he skates towards the net. This guy is desperate to stop him, still hoping there’s time before he shoots the puck forward.”
She moves to another picture of a face-off. “This guy right here is brutal during whatever they are doing.”
“Face-off,” I interrupt.
“Anyway, he almost always comes away with the puck and he’s super fast. I’ve tried to get a decent shot of right after the puck drops, that split second before it lands on the ice, but the pictures don’t come out as well as I want. I have a few ideas on what to tweak during the next game, though.”
I lean back onto the couch. “Sounds to me like you already know the game. Just not in the same terms as I do.” Then I sit back up, resting my elbows just above my knees on my thighs, and nod towards the computer. “Show me some more.”
Lucy begins to scroll through the images, commenting on the emotions she believes the players are having based on their current action. Slowly, I start seeing more and more pictures of me. She glances at me with a blush before explaining the same things to me, but about me. She’s pretty spot on too. When she starts to skip some, I realize that she takes a serious amount of photos of me. Lucy starts to speak before I can question her.
“I take multiple shots at a time to have a batch of photos for one particular moment so I can pick the best shot. With yours, I can’t decide on the best. There are things I like about all of them. That’s why there are so many of you. You’re very photogenic, Grant.” Her blush darkens when she sneaks a peek at me before looking back to the screen. “You are my favorite person to photograph. I hope that doesn’t sound creepy or anything.”
A little bit. This is for her schooling, though. It’s not like she’s following me around and keeping secret photos of me. Her comment about me being her favorite stands out the most. I’m not quite sure why though. Before I can answer, Lucy gasps and grabs my knee.
“They’re fighting! Are they allowed to do that? Why are they fighting anyway?” Her eyes are glued to the TV now.
I eye her hand and then look up to her as she glances at me. “It’s an intense game with lots of hits and emotions run wild. Not to mention how physical some players are.” I missed what happened to cause this fight, thanks to Lucy. She seems captured by the punches being thrown by the players. Suddenly, as my knee gets warm underneath her hand, I blurt out, “Would you like to go to a game?”
Lucy quickly turns to look at me, the players heading to their respective boxes. “What?” she questions, bringing her hand back to her lap.
“Do you want to go see a game in person?” I repeat.
“With you?” Her voice is a mixture of surprise and skepticism, which makes me laugh.
“Yeah, who else?”
Lucy’s lips form a perfect O. “Right, duh. That would make the most sense, huh? You caught me by surprise, sorry.” She takes a deep breath. “That sounds like fun, though. I would love to go.” Her phone dings and she apologizes as she reads a text. “It’s Patrick checking in,” she says with a roll of her eyes.
“Checking in?” I ask, wanting to ask about their relationship with such a perfect opportunity.
“Yeah. He worries, and apparently, you aren’t well-known on campus other than the fact you play hockey, so he doesn’t know much about you. That’s why he’s checking in, sorry.” She blushes a little. “You probably didn’t want to know that.”
“Actually,” I begin. This is my chance to satisfy my curiosity. “I would like to hear about your brothers.”
“Why?” Lucy seems genuinely confused.
“I’m an only child,” I explain. “What was it like growing up with three siblings?”
“Oh, well, it was great.” That adoring smile is back on her face. “They are seriously the definition of protective older brothers, but they are the best. We are really close, too. Um, let’s see.” Lucy seems to think about how she wants to describe them to me. She subtly nods her head, scoots back from the edge of the couch, and turns towards me a little while tucking her legs underneath her.
“Patrick is like my best friend. I’m closer to him than Jon or Corey. He always puts my best interests in mind and he’s practically on stand-by if I ever need him. I could call him right now and he’d be in here in ten minutes, no matter what he's doing. I’m not as close to Jon or Corey, but they would both drop anything if I called them and needed them.
“Jonathan much rather I call Patrick because he just doesn’t know how to be helpful, sometimes. He always answers his phone by the third ring when I call, though. I think he would rather play bodyguard or something. Corey is the worst, overprotective-wise. He wants what he thinks is best, which isn’t always what is best.
“Oddly enough, when it comes to something concerning me, Patrick has the final word between the three of them. It doesn’t matter that he’s the youngest. They all know that he knows me best, so they’ll listen to him. Does any of that make sense?”
I shrug. “You make it sound like they are protective because there is something serious you need protecting from and not normal brother stuff. Have they always been that way? Is your dad that way with you too? You don’t mind how they are?” I spout off all the questions I’ve been dying to ask.
Lucy frowns and her eyes sadden immediately. This look doesn’t fit her. I hate that I’ve somehow upset her again. “It’s all I’ve ever known, and I don’t mind it at all. Actually, I wouldn’t change anything about my brothers, even if they can be a pain sometimes. Let’s watch the rest of the game.”
She turns back towards the TV as the third period starts. The longer she stays silent, the more Patrick’s words repeat in my head. If she’s quiet, it’s not a good thing. I nudge my elbow against hers.
“You okay, Lucy?”
She smiles at me and those bright blue eyes look more happy than sad now. “Yeah, I’m fine. When are you thinking about going to a game?”
“We can look up some upcoming ones and pick right now, if you want.” Lucy nods, so I bring my laptop to my lap and pull up the website to order tickets. “It’ll have to be during the week, most likely.” I bring up the schedule and silently narrow it down based on my own schedule. “Okay,” I start as Lucy leans towards me to look at the screen, “what about this Wednesday or next Thursday?”