5. Conference Qualifiers

Cicero left the house the same day. By the time I got myself together and went in search of him, he had left.

Papa Ben explained that the NHL would be wrapping up in a couple of weeks. And if Cicero's team, the Islanders, wins their next game, they will qualify for the Stanley Cup finals, which will be coming up next month.

So, Cicero had to leave. He had already missed an important game last week, and his team members barely scraped through.

The truth stared at me. It must have taken him so much to sit by me all through the time I was at the hospital.

That must have been the reason he missed the game. What if the Islanders had lost the game?

Damn!

I decided to show my appreciation by following Papa Ben to the game three days later.

Before I got married, I used to follow up on all of Cicero’s games even though I detest seeing him on my screen.

But Hockey is a beast of a game, and I f*ckin love it.

But after my marriage, I stopped watching and even checking live scores. I stopped everything that would remind me of Cicero, deleting him everywhere around me.

…

We were already seated in a row right across the Islanders' bench before the game started.

Papa is seated comfortably with Lugo, Cicero's best friend. They are having a deep conversation that they didn't want me to listen to.

So, I focus my attention on the ice, biting down on my lips. Papa is wearing a jersey with Cicero's name and even offered me one before we left the house, but I turned him down.

... don't want the bastard thinking I'm a big fan of his.

The ice rink stretches out in front of me, like a vast, frozen lake, shimmering under the bright lights.

The scent of pastries and alcohol fills my nose, making my mouth water.

When the Islanders and Norton Beasts stepped out from the tunnel, a rush of loud cheers followed.

The crowd is riled with excitement. There are loud sounds of whistles, drums, trumpets, and singing.

Everyone is clamoring to be heard above the others.

In a few minutes, the game began. Colorful dots moved across the ice, the players’ skates scraped, and their sticks clacked as they played.

It’s a beauty to behold, and my heart races with excitement. Within the first few minutes, the Islanders get their first goal: a combined effort of Cicero and one of their wingers called Rufus.

"Get them!" I scream, clapping my hands and jumping to my feet absentmindedly.

"Pretty cool, huh?" Lugo asks, a big smile on his face. "Never knew you enjoyed the game this much."

Slowly, I sit back down and run my fingers across my forehead.

I have overreacted.

"Umm, it's a great game," I reply.

"Yes, it is. Makes me wonder why you haven't been coming around to watch Cicero in action."

I shrug. "Never had the time."

Papa taps my shoulder gently. "Now you have plenty of time to watch the game, Jane."

I turn to him and smile. "I guess so."

"Jane will be working in Ci's team pretty soon."

Lugo stared at me disbelievingly, "Tell me Papa isn't joking, Jane."

"He’s joking." I insist.

Food comes at that moment, and I thank God for the distraction. When the server left, Lugo didn't ask me any more questions.

I take a second bite of the tasty donut and focus on the game while the men continue talking. This time around, they switched to Italian.

Cicero chases down every loose puck, makes every pass with fucking perfect precision, and shoots every chance he gets.

I keep shouting and cheering him on, mindless of the people seated beside me. At some point, the Norton Beasts couldn't keep up.

The buzzer sounds for the first period, and that’s when his eyes caught me. He stands right there on the ice staring at me.

The effect of his gaze washes over me, and I swallow a donut bite whole without chewing it.

Goddamnit!

Then he smiles and walks away to meet the others. I let out a deep breath and took a sip of my soda.

When I turn to Lugo and Papa, Lugo is staring at me, a knowing smile on his face, while Papa is looking towards the ice.

"Norton team is doing so bad today." He sighs.

"They can't hold a stick close to Islanders, the real Beasts," Lugo replies. "They barely survived the playoffs. They've just been sailing on luck all this while." He adds.

In the second period, Cicero scores a goal. And then another, and another. He gets a hat trick, but that didn't seem to be enough for him.

With each goal, he'll turn to me with a smile. Papa will wave at him, and Lugo will scream his lungs out.

But the Starboy keeps his eyes on me all through.

Cicero keeps going. The crowd roars as he nears five goals. But the only person he seems to give a fuck about is me.

By the sixth goal, a double hat trick, I jump on the chair, screaming my lungs out. The energy in the arena is too intense. It’s electrifying.

So, when I stand up, shouting, I’m not the only one. But I’m still the only one Cicero sees when he blows a kiss.

The crowd is chanting his name, and when the buzzer goes off, signaling the end of the game, the Islanders are reigning supreme with 8:2 goals.

F*cking phenomenal!

He points to me and blows another kiss. Papa laughs and claps hard for his son. Same as Lugo, and it makes me wonder if they aren’t seeing what he’s doing.

Anyway, I hug Papa happily, and the older man laughs, tapping my back. "Had fun, Jane?"

"Too much fun, Papa."

We sit there and watch both teams leave the ice.

A few minutes later, Frank Hayley, Cicero’s manager, walks up to us. He greets Papa and Lugo and asks me to come with him because Cicero is asking for me.

"What?" I ask, turning to Papa for rescue, but he nods and points ahead.

"Go on, don't worry about me. I'll get home safe. Ci will bring you home, I guess."

"I-"

"Go on, Jane." Lugo cuts me off. "I'll take Papa home."

I don’t want to go to Cicero.

If he’s asking for me right after a game, then only God knows what he wants to do. And I really do not have the will to find out.

I open my mouth to tell Papa Ben that I want to go home with him instead, but Frank tugs my arm forcefully.

“We need to go,” he says with no pause, and starts dragging me forward even though he can feel me resisting.

“I don’t want to go,” I tell him.

He looks at me pitifully and shakes his head, “I can’t help you, Janelle. I need him focused, well-rested, and refreshed from now till Stanley's cup finals. I saw what your presence did to him today.”

“My presence did nothing.”

Frank chuckles, “Even a blind man would know those kisses weren’t for his fans.”

I try to wriggle my arm out of Frank's hold, and he frowns.

“Look, we need this win. I need this win. Cicero needs this win. This is the best he has been for a very long time. Do not mess it up for me. If he wants to see you, Janelle. You will see him and do whatever the fuck he asks of you.”

“What does he want from me?”

“The fuck do I know? Whatever it is, do it, keep him happy until finals. And maybe,” he turns me around d to face him. “…just maybe I’ll keep that little secret of yours.”

Shit!