Chapter 54: Sadie: Front Row

SADIE

THE QUIZY MUMMIES + THE MEN THEY TOLERATE GROUP CHAT

Me: Has anyone heard from Sophie? She was supposed to pick up the shirts, and now she won’t answer her phone.

Nia: Not me. I’ve been calling too.

Nia: She better not pull one of her disappearing acts today.

Caleb: why are there fourty new mesages

Caleb: i havnt even finshed showering

Noah: Then shower Caleb. Nobody asked you to come here wet and confused.

Caleb: Damn good evening to you too

Marcus: Sophie just texted me. She has the shirts but she’s running late

Nia: She can text Marcus but not the people calling her. Lovely.

Marcus: She said everyone should go ahead. She’ll be there before the game starts.

Me: Please tell her to hurry up

Me: Better still, ask her to answer one of my six missed calls. We’re supposed to take pictures in the new shirts during the game. We need them before it starts.

Priya: Do we wait for her outside the arena?

Me: No. Everyone should bring the regular club shirt as backup and meet at the agreed time.

Marcus: I’ll make sure she comes straight there.

Caleb: what is the agreed time

Noah: Scroll up.

Caleb: This group is so hostile.

Me: One hour, Caleb. I’ll see everyone there.

**************

I’m sure I’ve mentioned it before, but Conte Forum is beautiful. Huge too, though it’s hard to admire the place when the crowd outside keeps stepping on my feet.

I looked up the arena before coming and learned that it holds almost eight thousand people. At the time, that was only a number on my screen. Standing outside in the middle of a sold-out crowd makes it feel much more real—and reminds me that none of us would have tickets if Trey hadn’t arranged them through the marketing team as part of our collaboration.

"This is only my second game," Nia tells me from behind, practically bouncing as the line moves forward.

"It’s my first." I smile, but another rush of late-September air cuts beneath Trey’s jacket and has me wrapping both arms around myself. The black jeans were supposed to help, but the cold has already found every possible way through them.

Winter isn’t here yet, although it seems determined to introduce itself early, and unlike everyone around me, I don’t have an active inner wolf keeping me warm.

I glance back while the line moves again, searching between the people gathering behind us.

Sophie still hasn’t appeared.

Neither has a message. My screen remains empty when I check it for what must be the tenth time.

Usually, this would be enough to send my mind through every possible way the night could fall apart, but I already prepared for this. Everyone brought their regular club shirts, so even if Sophie is late, we’ll still have something coordinated for the pictures.

The new ones would be better, though. They were made for tonight, and after all the work we put into planning this collaboration, I want at least one part of it to happen exactly as intended.

Sophie said she would be here. I decide to believe her.

"Nothing bad is going to happen tonight," I whisper to myself. "Everything will go smoothly, and I’m going to have fun."

"What did you say?" Nia’s head appears beside mine.

"Nothing." I put my phone away before I can check it again.

Ngozi said new experiences might help my wolf surface sooner. I don’t expect one evening at Conte Forum to change everything, but as the line carries us toward the entrance, I catch myself hoping my wolf is curious about what’s inside too.

Our tickets are scanned, and Nia stays beside me as we follow the crowd through the concourse. Caleb and Priya went in ahead of us, and Marcus has already gone to find our seats. For a few minutes, I even manage to forget about Sophie’s silence.

Then Marcus appears ahead of us, scowling as he makes his way back. Caleb and Priya follow, neither of them looking much happier.

"What is it?" I ask when they reach us.

"People are in our seats," Priya says.

I turn to Marcus. "How? The seats behind the players’ bench were reserved for us."

"They still are. A bunch of wannabe influencers are sitting there." He glances back toward the section. "I told them the seats were ours, but nobody moved. I don’t argue with women, I’m respectful, so you’ll have to come talk to them."

Priya gives him a flat look. I’m inclined to agree with her, but sorting out Marcus’s definition of respectful won’t get us anywhere to sit.

I curl my hands into fists, then force them open. We have tickets with seat numbers on them. This doesn’t need to become a fight.

"Come on."

I lead the others into the seating area. Our section is occupied, just as Marcus said, and I spend the walk over trying to find a way to ask them to move without sounding as irritated as I feel.

Then one of the girls turns.

I recognize the short brown hair first. Then her face, because I may have visited her Instagram page recently.

No fucking way.

Of all the people I could have had a polite conversation with tonight, it had to be her?

My pace slows, but the team is close behind me, and Dixie has already seen us. By the time I reach the seats, she’s looking straight at me.

The hostility in her eyes is easy enough to ignore. The jacket isn’t.

It’s almost identical to the one I’m wearing. Same number, same colors, everything. My eyes drop to my own sleeves, then back to hers. Maybe she bought it. Maybe someone gave it to her. For all I know, it used to belong to Trey.

What the actual fuck?

Dixie is still watching me, and my team is waiting behind me. The jacket can be a problem later. Right now, we need somewhere to sit.

I swallow and give her my most charming smile. It works on people sometimes. "Hi." 𝒻𝑟ℯℯ

"Hi?" She draws the word out, looking me over as though she can’t imagine why I’ve come near her.

"I’m sorry to interrupt, but these seats were reserved for the Quiz Bowl team." I gesture toward the row. "We have tickets for all of them."

She looks at her friends instead of answering. A couple of them laugh under their breath, though I haven’t told a joke. The girl beside her lifts her phone and tries out two different pouts before taking a selfie.

"So?" Dixie finally asks. "What does that have to do with me?"

My smile takes more effort to hold. She knows exactly why. Marcus already told them these were our seats.

I remind myself to deal with one thing at a time, but the jacket keeps catching my eye. She met Trey yesterday. Tonight, she’s wearing his number and sitting where he arranged for us to sit. Maybe there’s an innocent explanation for each part. I’m finding it very difficult to come up with one while she waits for me to lose my temper.

"Because these are our seats," I tell her. "Your ticket should say where yours are."

"I can read a ticket." She rolls her eyes. "You don’t need to act smart around me. Save it for your little club."

Marcus moves beside me. I hold out an arm, and he stops, though his fist closes at his side when Dixie looks him over with open disgust. He pushes his glasses up and says nothing.

I would like to follow his example. I would also like to sit down.

"Then you already know you’re in the wrong section," I tell her.

"We got here first." Dixie settles back as though that ends the discussion. "I usually sit here when I don’t have a video shoot and can make it to a game. It’s a good spot for my coverage, and my hundred and eighty thousand Instagram followers seem to appreciate it."

"I don’t care how many followers you have or what they appreciate." My smile finally gives up. "That’s my seat. I need you to get up."

"Excuse me." One of the girls beside her leans forward. "Who do you think you’re talking to?"

"Dixie, until you interrupted." I turn to her. "I didn’t have rocks in my mouth. Did you have them in your ears?"

"Are you—"

"I’ll handle it," Dixie cuts in.

The girl falls quiet.

She gets up slowly, straightens her tennis skirt, then fusses with the front of her jacket. My eyes follow her hands. Of course she wants me to notice it. She could’ve moved when Marcus asked, and she could still move now. Instead, she’s standing here making sure I get a good look.

I tried to be polite because my team is behind me and I want tonight to go well. She knows that. I’m done letting her use it against me.

Dixie folds her arms, a cold smile settling on her face. "Are you always this rude, or is it because I’m wearing the real version of that knockoff you’ve got on?"

I’ve spent the last five minutes wondering where she got her jacket. Now she’s calling mine fake.

"Excuse me?"

"Come on." She looks pointedly at me. "It’s obviously fake. Wearing it here is embarrassing enough when everyone can tell, but you want to sit right behind the players in it?" Her smile widens. "Trying to embarrass Boreal in front of the away team?"