TWELVE
I tried to fight it, I really, really did, but Beckett made me feel special throughout the night, somehow anticipating what I wanted to do when the first period ended, and we had twenty minutes to wait before the start of the second period while the Zamboni cleaned the ice. We decided to go and get more food, to take a quick bathroom break, and come back to our seats to enjoy the second period, the Habs and the Bruins still sitting at zero to zero.
We got ice cream and Beckett convinced me to get two scoops (chocolate and vanilla, while he got double chocolate, which I’m going to file away for later), and we walked around the arena, the smell of greasy food assaulting our noses, the floor already sticky from overzealous fans sloshing their beer around.
As we’re walking, I get tol
