which was Robinson Arena’s nickname. As I waited for the game to begin, I surveyed the crowd. There were the normal jersey-wearing hockey fans—men, women, kids. And then there were the puck bunnies. I’m not talking about normal women who like hockey but don’t want to wear a jersey to the games. I...
Papa asked. “No. Joey locked up. Why?” Papa shook his head, dismissing me as he walked to the back, still looking at a scrap of printer paper in his hands. The door to the office slammed. “I’m gonna tell Mom!” I yelled toward the door. Papa probably couldn’t hear me, but I said it anyway. And I w...
Because Indie and I hit our four-month anniversary last week, and I still can’t keep from smiling every time her name and face light up my phone screen. “Hey!” I answered. “Hey!” Indie greeted me. “How’s your day going? “Awesome, now.” What a fucking sap. “Okay, I have a weird question for you.” ...
