“This sport is effing crazy,” I say after a particularly brutal collision happens against the glass right in front of us, making me yelp and duck my head as if they’re going to come through and land on top of us. Nat laughs loudly at my reaction, and Jules actually grins and winks at me before skating off.

“It is, but it’s amazing, isn’t it?” Bobby says, eyes filled with excitement. “I freaking love it. I used to play when I was a kid. My dad was my coach, it was kind of our thing,” he explains. “I was never all that good, truth be told, but I still love it.”

“That’s really sweet,” I say, before breaking off into another yelp when the punk bounces off the glass in front of my face. He snorts into his beer and I flip him off, but laugh. He and Nat both try to explain some bits about the game, but I’m not quite following most of it yet. I will eventually, but trying to listen to their explanations while trying to also keep track of the puck—where the hell is it now??—and not flinch or scream every time the puck or a person hits the glass is nearly impossible.

But, despite all the crazy, I’m enjoying the hell out of it. Once I really understand the game, I know I’m going to love it and may just become a bona fide hockey fan. I cheer and scream and boo along with the rest of the crowd in our section, though to be fair, I don’t know why we’re booing. We drink and laugh, and I end up having the best night I’ve had in quite a while.

When it’s all over, we take the win four-to-nothing, and it’s exhilarating. Connor catches my eye and I give him a thumbs up with one hand and take a giant bite of the cotton candy I’m holding in the other. He grins and chuckles, his shoulders shaking a bit, and looking way too good even with his hair drenched in sweat. He skates over and tosses a puck over the top of the glass. I fumble it for a second trying to catch it with one hand, but manage to grab it eventually—without dropping my cotton candy, thank you very much. I do a little mock-curtsey when I finally have it under control and he laughs.

“Figured you needed a souvenir of the night you lost your hockey V-card.” He winks and I laugh while Nat and Bobby raise their mostly-empty cups in cheers. Connor winks and skates off to join the rest of the guys filing off the ice and heading to the locker room I assume. I turn the puck over in my hand, a smile creeping across my face.

I think hockey may be my new favorite sport.

About Author K.D. Miller…