“Lyric?”

Lyric looked up back over the couch. Her dad was standing by the door, looking at her expectantly. He was dressed in a hockey jersey.

“Are you ready to go?” He questioned.

Lyric groaned silently. She had been hoping he would forget, but of course he hadn’t. “Yeah, just let me grab my coat.” She reluctantly put her book down and got up to fetch her heavy winter coat.

“You don’t need that.” Her dad chuckled, but he knew her, so he didn’t intervene.

Lyric followed her dad to the car and got in. It was just the two of them, since her mom had a charity dinner that evening. Lyric found herself wishing that she could have gone with her just this once.

The drive was silent. Lyric hated to admit it, but she was realizing that she and her dad didn’t have anything in common.

Her dad parked the car and they joined the small crowd of people heading into the arena.

“Do you want anything?” Her dad nodded over toward the concession stand.

Lyric shook her head. Getting a snack was her excuse to leave mid way through the game. She wasn’t going to give that up for anything.

So, they headed into the stands and found seats. Immediately, the chill hit Lyric and she pulled her coat tightly around her. Even with it, all she could think about was the temperature.

Around her, she could hear chatter. Happy fans who made sure to go to every game. They were all old friends. Lyric had been brought to just as many games, but she had never attempted to make friends with anyone. They wouldn’t have anything in common.

And then, like always, they noticed her dad.

“Johnathan Rivers?” It was said as a question, like the woman speaking couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

Lyric’s dad nodded, getting to his feet to shake her hand.

He was always being recognized, and it was no surprise why. When he was much younger, Lyric’s dad had played in the NHL. He had been good, too. Good enough that they now lived in a nice house and Lyric went to an elite private school.

The chatter continued until the game started. Then everyone was watching, and a sound was only made when a goal was scored.

“Go Michael!” Lyric’s dad shouted. He was on his feet, applauding madly.

On the ice, Michael Locke looked up. He saw them and waved.

Lyric tried to sink further into her coat. She and Michael had grown up together, since their dads had been on the same team. They were still friends, and chatted sometimes at school, but Lyric was starting to feel like her dad expected them to become more than friends.

Lyric decided that she needed a break from the cold and the game. “I’m gonna get some hot chocolate.” She told her dad.

He nodded, eyes fixed on the game as it resumed.

Lyric slipped out of the stands and headed back to the lobby. As soon as the rink door shut behind her, she started rubbing her arms. She did not want to go back in there.

“Cold?”

Lyric looked up. The only other person around was the boy working the concession stand. He looked to be about her age, and she wondered if he went to the public school down the road.

“Yeah.” She replied. She closed the distance between them and leaned on the counter. “I don’t have much tolerance for the cold. Can I get a hot chocolate?”

The boy nodded and turned around to get her drink. Lyric watched curiously. She hung around with boys from school, sure, but none of them were like this boy. While they were all muscle and bulk, pushing their way through a space, this boy was skinny and lithe. He moved as if there was another presence behind the counter that he had to work around.

He was strangely graceful.

“Here ya go.” He said with a grin, spinning back to the counter with a Styrofoam cup.

“Thanks.” Lyric picked up the cup, relishing the warmth as it spread through her hands. She handed over the two dollars to pay for it and took a sip. It was wonderfully hot.

“You’d better hurry back, or you’ll miss the end of the period.”

Lyric frowned. “I don’t care.” She turned around so that she could lean her back against the counter and continued to drink her hot chocolate. “Hockey’s not really my thing.”

“No?”

She shook her head. “My dad wants it to be my thing, and I love him, so I go along with the games and jerseys, but…” She sighed heavily.

“Um…” The boy hummed nervously. Lyric was surprised when he didn’t just tell her to be honest with her dad. She smiled, appreciating that.

Lyric drank about half of her hot chocolate before sighing and pushing herself away from the counter. “Well, I guess I should--”

She was cut off by her cell phone ringing. When she pulled it out, she saw that her grandmother was calling. That was odd, since she only ever called to wish Lyric a happy birthday. “Hello?”

“Lyric, honey.” Her grandmother sounded somber, and Lyric was suddenly nervous. “I’m sorry to call you, but your mother has her phone off.”

Lyric nodded, even though it wouldn’t translate over the phone. “What is it Gramma?”

There was a long silence, filled only with the sound of her grandmother taking a deep breath. “I’m sick, honey.” She finally said.

Lyric’s stomach clenched. Her grandmother was dying? Part of her knew that she would have to die at some point, but being faced with it was not something she was prepared for.

“How bad?” She croaked out.

“It’s not bad yet.” Her grandmother tried to assure her, but all Lyric heard was the ‘yet’.

“I’ve been diagnosed with Leukemia.” Her grandmother continued. Lyric had never heard of it before, so she didn’t know how to react. She tried to make her brain work so that she could remember to either look it up or ask a doctor later.

“Lyric, I have something to ask of you.”

Lyric swallowed heavily. “What?” She managed to croak out.

“I need you and your mother to get a blood test. To see if either of you would be a possible donner for me.”

The phone slipped from Lyric’s fingers. This couldn’t be happening.