Wyatt hands our tickets over to be scanned and we make our way inside. The lobby area is full of tables from local animal rescue missions, pet grooming business, and veterinarians. There are even pets available for adoption. If I didn’t think my mom would absolutely kill me, I’d totally be leaving here with something cute and furry.

Just before we enter the short tunnel that will take us to our seats, we see Aunt Camille at a table for the same pet rescue group we helped her with last summer. We stop and wave.

“Isn’t this wonderful?” she screams from across the room.

“It’s pretty exciting!” I scream back, a little worried about my volume. I shouldn’t be, though — it’s impossible to be heard over the barking.

Wyatt studies the tickets as we make our way inside the arena. The music is loud and fun, and the announcer is yelling about the Doggie Parade on Ice that will happen at the first intermission.

“Need help finding your seats?” a man with a Mudbugs T-shirt asks Wyatt.

“Please,” Wyatt says, then hands the tickets over.

“Ah! You’re in one of the boxes.” The man points to several squared-off areas right next to the glass. In each squared-off area is a sectional sofa and a couple of big puffy recliners like the one Papa has. “You’re in the one in the middle. Right at center ice.”

“Okay, thanks,” Wyatt answers. We exchange a big-eyed look, then I follow him to our seats.

Each area is enclosed with a short wall that is about the same height as the sofa with just a small opening to slip inside. There’s also a coffee table in front of the couch, which holds a tray with a couple of bottles of water.

Wyatt walks up to the glass and says, “This is pretty cool. I mean, we’re right here, practically on the ice.”

I pick up a note propped against the bottled waters, which reads,

“I guess if there’s a way to see your first hockey game, this is it,” I say with a grin. It’s cold in here, way colder than I expected, and I can’t help the shiver that rolls through me.

Wyatt takes off his jacket and throws it around my shoulders.

“No, you’ll be too cold without your jacket,” I say, trying to give it back. He pushes my hand away lightly.

“I’ve got a long-sleeve shirt on under this pullover. I’m good.”

I pull it closer to me and sit in the corner of one of the couches. This box is pretty cool, but it’s an awfully big space for just the two of us. I look up toward the sea of faces — human and canine — that rise up behind us in the regular seats, and it feels a little like we’re in a fishbowl.

“I feel like we’ll be watched as much as the game,” I say. Wyatt turns around to look up at the stands. Just then, Aunt Camille enters the box.

“So what do you think?” she says.

I’m not sure if she means the box seats or the four little puppies she’s carrying.

“Oh my goodness! Look how adorable!” I squeal. I peel one of them out of her arms and bury my nose in its fur.

She hands Wyatt the other three and then motions to another woman, whose arms are just as full. “Bring them in here, Donna!”

Donna doubles the amount of puppies in our box. They crawl over the furniture, knocking down the bottles of water, and rolling all over each other across the carpet.

“Donna and I are going to spend the game gathering signatures to remodel the dog park, so we need somewhere for these fur babies to hang out.”

“Oh, okay,” I say. Wyatt has a puppy gnawing on his shoelaces while I have one clinging to the hem of my jeans.

“Just shut the gate and they’ll be fine,” Aunt Camille says, then she and Donna take off.

“We totally should have expected this,” Wyatt says.

“We really should have,” I answer.

The puppies explore the small square area, and we both notice one of them has already peed on the carpet.

“Do you think they can escape?” he asks.

I shrug. “Maybe we should help them?” I’m only half joking.

Just as Wyatt and I are able to clear a space on the couch to sit, I hear Olivia scream from somewhere behind us, “Sooooppphhhieeee!”

I twist around and scan each row until I find her. They’re on the very top row — basically as far away from us as possible.

Throwing my arm up, I wave and she waves back. I expected to see Charlie and Wes — both of them grin and wave at me from their nosebleed seats — but I wasn’t expecting to see Sara, Graham, and Jake, too.

“Is that your family up there?” Wyatt asks.

I spin back around. “Yes. And I had no idea they were all coming. This date thing has moved to a really weird level where my family feels overly invested.”

Wyatt laughs and sits down next to me. “I think it’s cool you have a big family. Mine doesn’t even fill up my mom’s dining room table.”

The lights dim and a spotlight shines on the ice, highlighting a girl in a fancy red dress and skates who sings the National Anthem.

Just as she finishes singing, Olivia says, “Hey!”

I swivel around on the couch. My family members are standing at the gate to the box, looking as eager to be let in as the puppies are eager to get out. Wes stands toward the back as if he isn’t quite sure what he’s doing here.