CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Hide behind the mask
VANESSA
It’s been four days since I got home from New York, and I’ve spent those four days alone with my thoughts.
My parents tried calling me once my plane landed but I declined. I sent them a text telling them I made it back to Boston and left it at that. They want me to call them on New Year’s and pretend like nothing happened during this trip, but I think I’m finally done trying with my family. There really is no hope for them.
I don’t care if they decide to cut me off and kick me out of the condo. At this point, I have enough in my savings that I can live off. I might have to scrounge a bit and only eat ramen, but I’d rather not have an extra penny to my name if it meant I’d be done with my family.
Sydney and Maddie are both still with their families. They’re supposed to come back tomorrow for New Year’s Eve, but I’m scared that the post-holiday traffic and packed airports will delay them. I might end up celebrating alone.
I spent the last few days working on the Wolves’ website and their social media platforms. I updated the photo and video gallery, and rearranged their highlights on Instagram.Now they look more aesthetically pleasing than they did before I got my hands on them. Their accounts have all gained more followers since I’ve taken over, so I think I’ll pass this class with flying colors.
Not to toot my own horn, but maybe I should get into media and communications. It’s not as mundane and aggravating as I had originally thought it was.
The boys have their Winter Wonder tournament this weekend, and we’re broadcasting it live for those families who can’t make it to Boston. I bet the Archers are going to have it screening in their home theater with the whole family around to watch.
Coach Wilson asked if I could do some pregame interviews with the team beforehand. Ask about their holidays, talk about their hopes for the season—all that kind of crap.It’s easy stuff. What’s not easy is knowing that I have to interview Jake.I knew I’d eventually have to face him. I just wish I had more time to prepare myself.
My hands are clammy, so I run them over my jeans to try to absorb the moisture.
The lobby of the arena is warm, almost too warm. Maybe that’s why my hands are sweaty and not because of my anxiety that feels like an elephant is sitting on my chest.
At least I was smart enough to swap my regular latte for a chamomile tea—Maddie would be very proud of me. She’s the tea drinker in our group, and normally I wouldn’t touch the stuff, but today I needed something to relax me.
“Miss Nichols, you’re here quite early.” Coach Wilson’s voice startles me as he walks out of the doors that lead to his impromptu office in the locker room.
“You know what they say, the early bird gets the worm.” I wink at him. Okay, reminder to self—never do that again.
“The boys should be showing up soon. You can use the office for interviews if you’d like.” A smile stretches across his face, and I notice that he’s groomed his mustache differently today. Normally it’s thick and bushy, but it looks like he got a clean trim, and the edges are upturned in a handlebar fashion.
“That would be great, thank you.” I lug my heavy backpack over my shoulder, desperately wishing I bought myself that camera bag I saw back in Manhattan. “I like the new look. The mustache seems more sophisticated.”
I swear I see a hint of blush creep into his cheeks. He nods at me then disappears behind the doors to the arena.
I don’t care what anyone else thinks, that man is so adorable.
I walk through the swinging doors and down the hallway to the office adjacent to the locker rooms.This office is much different from the one in the athletic building.For one thing, it’s a lot mustier—clearly from years of moisture exposure.There’s an old oak desk positioned in the middle of the office, one that you would find in a ’90s catalog.There’s a filing cabinet and a small bookshelf positioned on the back wall behind the desk, but other than that and an empty whiteboard, the office has minimal decor. His trophies and accolades are on display in the athletic building.
I set up my tripod and position it in front of the desk, planning to have each player sit while I conduct the interviews. To keep it quick, I’m only going to ask a few questions. Ask the boys about their holidays, see how they’re feeling about today’s tournament—little things like that. By the time I end up interviewing the entire team, I’ll have over an hour or so of footage that I’ll have to go through. The less content, the easier it’ll be for me to edit so I can have it out by New Year’s Day.
As I finish setting up the office, a knock comes from behind me. I whip my head around to find Levi leaning against the doorway with one arm grasping the top frame.
“Hey, Nichols, Merry Christmas.” He strides in, engulfing me in a hug.
“Merry Christmas Brody. How was your break?”
“Meh, the usual. Dad ordered takeout, his new girlfriend got me a new pair of Chuck Taylors I’ve been wanting. Yours?”
I shrug my shoulders at the thought. “The usual.”
“We live such exhilarating lives.” He plops down into the desk chair. “Let’s get this show started.”
He shimmies out of his black peacoat, revealing a beautiful dark gray suit with a black dress shirt and tie. I can’t deny that Levi is handsome, but I don’t think I could ever see us being anything more than friends. He’s like the sibling I’ve always wanted. We get to share our music tastes, help each other with our photography, discuss new crime documentaries, and compare our similar home lives. It’s nice to have someone else to talk to about these things.
“Since when do you like doing interviews?”
“You gotta have the best go first. I’m a tough act to follow.” He motions up and down his body, putting himself on display. He gets a laugh out of me. It feels foreign, like I haven’t laughed in weeks.
Maybe I haven’t. When was the last time I genuinely laughed?
“Fire away, Nichols.”
I go through my list of questions, asking Levi about his holidays, his New Year’s resolution, and how he feels going into the first game since their break. He smiles as he answers each of my questions, his resolution being my favorite response—he wants to try every combination of pizza at a local dive bar in Boston. They have too many different combinations that equal to about a hundred different pizzas.
I told him I wouldn’t mind helping out with that one.
Levi gets up and gives me another hug before heading into the locker rooms to get changed before warm-ups.
The rest of the team starts to filter in behind him.A few of the freshmen seemed nervous talking to me, barely making eye contact. As one of them leaves, a senior on the team, Trevor McAvoy, walks into the office.
“Are you too scared to talk to me too?”
He laughs and sits down, interlocking his hands behind his head, leaning back in the chair.“Those guys are scared of Jake. I, however, don’t give a fuck.”
“What do you mean scared of Jake?”
Trevor raises his eyebrow at me as if I asked a redundant question.
“Because the two of you…y’know. You’re together. They don’t wanna step on his toes.”
“We’re not together.” My answer comes out fast.
Trevor studies me for a moment but decides to drop it. “Ask your questions, Nichols.”
By the time we finish, Nate and Eli show up, insisting on taking their pregame interviews together, thinking their captain and assistant captain dynamic will bring in more views to our page. I didn’t fight with them on that one.
After filming we chat for a bit before Nate hears commotion coming from the locker room. I wave them both off, deciding I don’t want to know what’s going on behind those doors.
My list of players dwindles down to two. I know Kieran will probably opt out of the pre-game interview, so that only leaves one.
Jake.
Maybe he’ll skip it. That would be a blessing.
“You still doing interviews?”. I spoke too soon. Jake’s voice is hoarse, his hands are tucked into his pant pockets
He’s wearing a navy-blue suit, white shirt, and a dark blue plaid tie. I’m upset at how my body responds to him. My heart slams in my chest and my fingers itch, wanting to run themselves through the mess of curls on Jake’s head. What the hell is wrong with me? It feels like my body betraying me.
Get it together, Vanessa . He broke your heart, this is pathetic. You shouldn’t be feeling anything for him right now.
I pretend that his presence doesn’t faze me and I try my hardest to put on a neutral, or possibly annoyed look. Maybe if he thinks his presence irritates me, he’ll go to the locker room with the rest of his teammates and leave me the hell alone.
“Yeah, you’re the last one besides Kieran, but I know interviews aren’t really his thing, so I’m not gonna hold my breath.”
We stare at each other for a minute. The only sound is our breathing. He keeps his face plain, but I can see in his eyes that something is wrong. As if he’s internally battling with himself.I don’t know if I can handle any more uncomfortable silence and prolonged eye contact. I stand up from the chair and point to it as I walk over to stand behind the tripod. Time to be professional. Hide behind the mask, Vanessa.
“Sit.”
Without hesitating he moves across the room in two strides. I momentarily forgot how fast he could go with those long legs. He used to always slow his pace knowing my short legs couldn’t keep up.
“Okay, like it stated in the team email, I’m going to ask you a couple of basic questions.” He nods and I continue, “How was your break? Did you celebrate a holiday with your family—if yes, do you have any traditions that your family follows?”
I wonder what Amelia and Parker do every year. I bet they have a few family traditions, they seem like the type. Something cute, like binging Christmas movies or having an annual gingerbread house competition.
Jake watches me as I ask the questions. He sticks his tongue out of the corner of his mouth to wet his dry lips. “My family celebrates Christmas, and our family tradition is decorating the house together and having a family game night. And, um overall my break was okay.”
I didn’t know what to expect of this, but I at least expected more words out of him. I realize now that he’s not looking at me but toward me, like he’s focusing on something right behind or beside me, avoiding my stare.
It’s weird seeing Jake so quiet.
“Okay, uh, next question. What is your New Year’s resolution?”
He takes a moment to think it over. “Mend broken promises and put my friendships first.”
His answer feels like a bullet to the heart, but I pretend like it doesn’t affect me. Keep this professional, you don’t want to seem like a crazy ex.
“Great.” I force the fakest smile. He definitely knows it too.
“Last question, how do you feel about the Winter Wonder tournament? Do you expect to win every game like the past two years, or do you think the other teams have a fighting chance?”
This question causes a small, micro smirk to appear on Jake’s face. “I think we’re going to take the trophy for the third year in a row. The other teams, especially Boston College, are tough competitors, but this tournament doesn’t count toward the NCAA points. We’re all just here to have some friendly competition and fun.”
He’s going to do so well in the NHL. Jake’s personality is so bubbly and energetic, I’d be surprised if people didn’t fall in love with him solely from his press conferences.
I realize that I’ve been staring at him for too long, long enough for him to notice and for him to become curious. He opens his mouth to talk but I snap out of it and cut him off before he can mutter a syllable.
“That’s all I need, thanks.” I turn away to start dissembling my camera and tripod. I hear the chair squeak as his weight is lifted off it.
“This is for you. From my parents.” I watch as he sets a small, wrapped box onto the desk, then walks out of the office without saying another word.
I’m frozen. My tripod is half disassembled in my hands and yet I can’t move.I stare at the small, green, wrapped gift on the desk. Is this really from his parents or was that a ploy?
I shouldn’t open it. We’re not dating; I should give it back. It would be rude of me to accept a gift from Jake’s parents.
Did he tell them that we broke up?Maybe not, and that’s why they still gave Jake the gift to give to me. If that’s the case, then it would be rude not to open it.
I grab the box and carefully peel off the solid green wrapping, exposing a beautiful gold box. I take the lid off and my heart stops. Inside is a small gold bracelet that I was admiring on our trip to Martha’s Vineyard. Autumn and I were fawning over everything in the small jewelry shop, but this bracelet stood out the most to me. It’s nothing fancy, just a simple solid gold chain with a singular pearl in the middle. So delicate and beautiful.
I take it out of the box and notice a note tucked underneath the Bubble Wrap. It’s a handwritten note from Amelia.
Vanessa,
You are such a beautiful and smart individual, and we are so glad that Jake has found someone who makes him smile. Autumn picked out this gift for you, but I added a little something extra. Wishing you and your family a Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays. There will always be a spot at our table for you.
With love, Amelia (and Parke r… and Autumn too).
I look back in the box to see what else could be hiding. Tucked underneath everything is a polaroid. I flip it over to see a photo of Jake feeding me a French fry at the seafood restaurant we went to during Thanksgiving weekend. Autumn was playing around with an old camera we found in the house and she must’ve snapped this photo when we weren’t paying attention. Jake’s face is broken out in a full smile as he watches me bite into the crinkle-cut potato.
The photo nearly breaks me. We were so happy, so full of hope. My heart breaks all over again, imagining the life Jake and I could’ve had together. So much has happened to lead us to where we are now, I don’t know where to go from here.
I tuck the photo, the note, and the bracelet back into the box and put it in my bag. I’ll cry about this later when I’m in the comfort of my own bedroom.
I finish tearing down the rest of my gear, only to lug it all to the arena to set it up all over again.I position the tripod in the upper corner of the stands so I can capture the entire rink and use my second camera, my Canon EOS R10, to take up-close action shots during the game. Coach Wilson likes to have a lot of footage, especially for when he reviews plays with the team, something I’ve learned over the course of the semester.
I try to focus on the game, but my eyes keep going to that little box in my bag and the boy who gave it to me.
I wish things were different.