chapter 4

"You're terrible," I told her.

"I know," she replied with a laugh. Tye sound was carefree and contagious, and it surprised me that people often commented that we had similar laughs. It seemed like everything else about us was different. Especially our looks. While I had the same deep red hair and pale skin as my Dad, Jennie was tanned and blonde like hers. I'd only ever seen my aunt in pictures around my uncle Jude's house. I'd never had a chance to meet her as she'd passed away when Jennie and I were both babies. I guessed that was another thing we had in common---we both grew up with only one parent. Precisely a father.

When we finally found some free seats, I turned my attention to the game and searched for Josh. The players were whizzing across the ice so fast with their faces mostly covered by helmets, it was almost impossible to distinguish between them. Beverly Hugh's colors were white and gold, so I was confused to find one team on black while the other was in red. I hadn't been to an Angels game before though, so I wondered if maybe Josh's team was playing in an alternate uniform.

I was shaken from my thoughts as two players went flying, but the other stayed on his feet. He was wearing the number twenty-three, and I glanced back at the shirtless fans who were delirious with excitement.

Clearly this was their favorite player, and it didn't take long for me to realize why. With his opponent sprawled at his feet, the number twenty-three took off. He glided effortlessly across the ice, weaving between rival players like they weren't there at all. I knew he was skating at a breathtaking pace, but it almost felt like everything was happening in slow motion and the roar of the crowd seemed to dull around me. As someone who hated hockey, even I had to admit this guy was impressive.

As if to confirm my appraisal, the number twenty-three dodged past the final defenseman and flicked the puck past the goalie. The siren behind the net blared, and the fans around us screamed. The couldn't get enough of this guy. Even I couldn't seem to take my eyes off him.

"Uh, Ginny?"

"Yeah?" Jennie's tone was urgent enough that I managed to pull my eyes away from the game and focus on her.

"What time did you say Josh's game started?"

"At three. Why?"

"Well, I hate to tell you this, but we're not at the Angels game. This is a Devils game."

"What?" I quickly glanced at the scoreboard, and my heart sank when I read the two teams names displayed there. Jennie was right. We weren't at a Beverly High game. Instead, we'd accidentally turned up to watch their biggest rivals, the Riverdale Devils.

"This can't be right," I murmured. I'd only been living in Beverly Hills a few months, but I'd heard all about Riverdale, the town across the hill. While Beverly Hills was full of large imposing mansions, golf courses, and country clubs, Riverdale was more industrial and working class. Riverdale Academy and West Beverly High were just as contrasting. The rivalry between them was entrenched and bitter, and while it impacted pretty much anything the two schools too part in, it started and ended with hockey.

"You're certain the game started at three?" Jennie said.

"Uh, I think so."

"Are we at the wrong place then?"

I pulled out my phone to double-check the message Josh had sent me last night with the details. I'd been half asleep when I first read it, but I was certain I hadn't got the time or place wrong.

But the moment I opened the message, I swore. "His game was at one, Jen. I missed it..." And Josh hadn't texted me since, which was definitely a bad sign.

"It was a honest mistake, Ginny. He'll understand."

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