Mile High City

“Who am I?” he asked his reflection. He’d been acting so out of character lately with the way he had kissed Emily in such a short time of knowing her. He wasn’t even sure dating anyone was a road he wanted to go down.

But you didn’t just know girls like Emily casually.

He knew a few things to be true: he couldn’t stop checking his phone to see if she’d contacted him, he wanted to see her blush again, he’d wanted to talk with her and watch her hands move wildly as she told stories, and sometime his hand still found the cheek she’d left, now, two kisses on.

His phone gently vibrated across his counter. He answered the call, “Hello Emily!” he beamed.

“Hi Varly!” the happy voice responded on the other line.

“You are coming tonight?” he asked, clarifying.

“You got it!”

“You can pick up tickets there. Just go through VIP entrance before.” He explained.

They said their goodbyes and Varly settled down for a quick pre-game nap.

She arrived at the Pepsi Center about forty-five minutes before puck drop. She found the feeling of other eyes being on her strange as she walked past the line of people through the VIP entrance. She had no idea what to wear to a hockey game, but she figured there were few ways to go wrong. She wore slim, dark blue jeans and a white blouse that she paired with a black faux-leather, moto-style jacket. She tucked her jeans into black-wedge boots that weren’t killer on her feet.

“Varly Important Person entrance. Good luck!” she messaged Semyon, not expecting him to see it until after the game anyways.

She looked at the swarms of burgundy and blue filling the arena. She wanted to personally hug each donning Varly’s player apparel.

She approached the kiosk and quietly spoke to the clerk.

“I’m here to pick up a ticket under the name Varlamov.”

The clerk studied her curiously, but smiled sincerely.

“Emily?” he asked, looking down at a piece of paper.

“Yes!”

He handed her a ticket and told her to enjoy the game. She relied heavily on the signs above each section to find her way. She finally found 104 and seated herself.

About fifteen minutes later, she was startled by a loud alarm—she assumed an avalanche warning. Varly was the first player to take the ice, but was quickly followed by a flash of other players dressed in burgundy. He skated a little before stopping to stretch.

The players moved quickly around their part of the ice, like a lightning-fast carousel, each taking shots and alternating sides. They weaved in and out of other like organized
swimmers performing a routine. She watched Varly take to the net. He tapped the posts and began effortlessly stopping the shots taken at him. He’d deflect one off his right pad and immediately reposition himself to bat another away with his stick.

He was fun to watch. The warm-up ended and eventually game time rolled around. He came back out. She liked watching him shift from side to side during the national anthem. He looked like he was doing a little dance, but she knew better. Soon the players lined up to take the opening face-off.

His gaze lifted from the ice to her direction. Their eyes met briefly, and she held her finger in the air and smiled.

“Number one!” she mouthed. He quickly looked back to the ice--which is good because the opposing team had won the face-off and had the puck in his zone.

She found herself really getting into the game. She didn’t always understand why the play was stopped, but it seemed like relief to Varly, so she didn’t mind it.

One of the Avs players scored first during the second period. She bounced in her seat, and eventually stood with the other fans to applaud. The third period rolled around and the score remained 1-0. She watched excitedly as the clock rolled down to zero. She looked on as Varly gave a little fist pump to himself, but was quickly swarmed by a group of sweaty, happy men. They came to the center of the ice and lifted their sticks to the air for their fans.

She was on her feet with the rest of the arena and caught Varly’s eyes in her section again. He smiled to her from under his mask and she pointed to him and bowed slightly, encouraging him to take a bow for his performance. He shook his head and laughed before skating back to the locker room.

He was given first-star of the game and came out to take the interview. He thanked his fans and team happily before going back, clearly exhausted.

She spoke to one of the ushers to help find her way to him after the game. She had to wait a little for him to finish interviews, shower, and change, but she didn’t mind.

He came out dressed in well-fitted charcoal dress pants, a white button-up with a red, plaid tie, and matching jacket. He smiled as soon as he saw her and opened his arms for a hug.

She met his embrace, squeezing him tightly back.

“You did great!” she chirped, her voice muffled because her face was buried in his chest.

“Thanks!” he said proudly. They broke from their hug, and he placed his hand on her lower back to guide her out the concourse.

“Where to now?” he asked.

She smiled playfully. “Since we’re taking each other places we’ve never been…I know just the place.”

He eyed her skeptically, but her smile put him at ease. He couldn’t help but agree as she took his hand and led the way.