Chapter 9
BEN
THEN
The hardcover of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland propped open on her lap looks like it’s seen better days.
We’re sitting side by side on her bed, with the door open all the way in accordance with her parents’ wishes.
The Halifax Hailstorm sweatshirt I bought for her keeps slipping off one shoulder and every time it does, I press my lips to the exposed skin because I can’t help myself.
I nod, even though I didn’t totally get what makes this edition special, besides the fact that she thinks it is. But I love how her voice gets all soft and excited when she talks about these things, like she’s letting me in on some secret only she knows.
“You’ve got, what, like ten copies of this book now?” I tease, leaning back against her headboard.
“Eleven,” she corrects, raising her eyebrows like the number mattered.
“My grandmother, Alice, started the collection. My middle name is Alice, after her. When she died, she left the books to me. But they’re all different.
The covers, the illustrations, even the way the stories are translated sometimes.
Like, did you know there’s a Japanese edition where the Cheshire Cat is a tanuki? ”
“A what?”
“A tanuki. It’s like this little raccoon dog thing in Japan. I want one.”
Of course she does.
“Speaking of the Cheshire Cat,” she continues, her eyes widening.
“There was a new litter of kittens at the animal shelter yesterday and I got to help name them before they went out to be fostered. There was one ginger in the litter and I named him Cheshire. You should have seen him. He could barely open his eyes, he was so tiny.”
I love watching her when she’s like this, the way her hands flutter around like she couldn’t contain her excitement if she tried.
Her eyes brighten and her cheeks flush. Even the way her long hair keeps falling into her face like it can’t sit still either.
I reach over and tuck a strand behind her ear.
“You’re smiling,” she says, poking my thigh with her finger.
Of course I am. I’m looking at you.
“Am I not allowed to smile?” I shoot back, grinning wider just to mess with her.
She shakes her head. “No, you’re smiling like you think this is dumb.”
I’m smiling because I’m in love with you.
I haven’t told her yet. Or anyone. But I’ve known for weeks.
And it’s been nice keeping it to myself.
I feel like everyone from my parents to my coaches have had my life planned out since I was in elementary school.
Everything I’ve done has been for my hockey, and my career. But Maddy—she’s just for me.
“I don’t think it’s dumb at all,” I insist.
“It’s more than just the story, for me. Alice is curious—restless even.
She questions everything. Rules, logic, the way things are supposed to be.
The more she tries to make sense of everything, the more nonsensical it becomes.
And I relate to that, on some level. I know what it feels like to question if you fit in or wonder where you belong. ”
“You belong with me, Madness,” I tell her sincerely as I reach up and stroke her cheek. “Read me some more of it?”
She smiles and I steal another kiss before flopping down and resting my head on her lap as she opens the book to where she left off last time.
“‘Curiouser and curiouser!' cried Alice.’” Maddy reads in a high, childlike voice. She runs her fingers through my hair as I close my eyes and listen.
NOW
“I thought we were going to the mall,” Sam says as we enter the old used bookstore. His hands are shoved in the pockets of his too-big hoodie and he’s going out of his way to not look impressed.
“This place is better than the mall,” I insist, steering him right to the Fantasy section. Shelves climb all the way to the ceiling, sagging under the weight of too many stories, and the entire place smells like old paper.
He shrugs but takes a few steps closer, craning his neck to look at the towering shelves. He’s not sold on me yet, that’s for sure. The kid stays just far enough away, like I might suddenly try to parent him or shove him into hockey pads and throw him on the ice.
But even though we’re not ready to create an epic secret handshake, I feel like I’m making progress. He's been polite if a little standoffish, but we’ve got a long way to go.
I give him some space to browse and wander around until I end up in the classic literature section.
I stumbled across this place after I was traded to Ottawa.
I used to go to used book stores all the time when Maddy and I were together, always searching for different copies of the same book.
I stopped going after we broke up. Then, a few years back, we were in Pittsburgh for a game.
The restaurant the guys and I were grabbing lunch at was right next to a used book store and I decided to wander in.
I found a 1942 edition of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland.
It was leather bound and in perfect condition.
I bought it having no idea if I’d ever give it to her.
Over the years, I’ve kept up the search, buying interesting copies wherever I find them.
Today there are a few copies of it on the shelf, but nothing that is new or interesting.
Still, I flip through a dog-eared paperback thinking about her.
Aside from a text confirming a brunch with the foundation donors later this week, we haven’t talked since the meeting last Friday and I’ve been holding back from reaching out again.
I gave her a lot to think about last time and for all I know, she could change her mind.
She may decide that she can’t be my friend.
Can I be hers? I go back and forth on that question a hundred times a day.
I know that I want to try. Part of me wants Maddy back in my life so badly that I’ll take any kind of relationship I can get.
But am I a big enough person to watch her live her life with someone else?
Can I be in the same room with them without wishing she was with me?
Watch him give her everything that I can’t?
“What are you looking at?”
“Shit.” The curse slips out as I practically jump out of my skin. How long has Sam been standing next to me? “You scared the…crap out of me, kid.”
“Sorry.” He doesn’t look sorry at all, in fact he looks pretty pleased with himself. “You say that word a lot.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“I don’t care if you swear. Can I swear too?”
This fucking kid. “No.”
“Seems kind of unfair.”
“I tell you what. You can swear when the situation calls for it.”
His lips curve upward. “Cool.” He looks at the book in my hands. “Are you getting that one?”
“Nah,” I say sliding it back in place on the shelf. “I’ve already read it.”
“Did you like it?”
“It’s one of my favourites.” Not because of the story or the characters, but because the time in my life it brings me back to.
Sam shifts on his feet before saying, “You might like Hattersville, then.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s Manga, which is like Japanese graphic novels,” he answers, looking at the bookshelf in front of him.
I don’t tell him I’m familiar with Manga because this is the most he’s said to me unprompted and I want to keep him talking. “Okay.”
“Hattersville is a modern Wonderland reimagining. The Mad Hatter is like this disillusioned rebel leader that goes against the corrupt government.” He glances up at me, like he’s measuring my interest. “There’s no Alice and it’s kind of violent, but the drawings are really good.”
“That sounds awesome,” I tell him. “Do they have any copies here?”
Sam shakes his head, his shoulders dropping a little. “No, I already checked. It’s a pretty new series. Only three have been released so far. I borrowed the first one from the library–the public one. My school doesn’t carry them because they’re too violent.”
“Makes sense. Why don’t we head over to the mall. There’s a bookstore there that will probably have them. And, I don’t know about you, but I’m getting kind of hungry. We could hit up the food court before I take you home?”
He hesitates and I worry I’ve pushed too far. “Could we get slushies?”
“Hell yeah.”
“Why are raspberry slushies blue?” I ask as we sit in the food court, enjoying our frozen sugar water while people watching.
Not only did the bookstore have the entire Hattersville series, they had a special edition box set with all three books.
I bought them, telling Sam he could have the set if he let me borrow the first one. He seemed pleased with the deal.
“It’s because there are so many red flavours. Cherry, Strawberry, Fruit Punch,” Sam states matter-of-factly. He takes another sip of his cherry slushy while casting a sideways glance at my blue one. “That and blue foods tend to appeal to children.”
I narrowly avoid having slushy come straight out my nose as I laugh mid-drink. I lean over, choking on coughs and laughter until my eyes water and I can’t breathe.
“Are you okay?” Sam asks sheepishly.
“I’m fine.” I cough again and wipe at my leaking eyes. “I’m just going to need to remember to wear sunscreen the next time we hang out to protect me from your sick burns.”
This earns me a smile, and a smile from this kid is worth the near-death by slushy. Sam has been a tough nut to crack, but these rare moments where he lets his guard down and I get a glimpse of his wicked sense of humour are worth it.
“So,” I use a napkin to wipe my mouth. “Tell me about chess.”
Sam shrugs, stirring his slushy with his oversized straw. “I’m good at it.”
“I bet you’re good at lots of things. What do you like about it?”
He takes a moment, like he’s really considering my question. “I like the strategy. Trying to anticipate your opponent's move and defend against it.”
“I do a lot of that with hockey.”
Sam rolls his eyes dramatically.
“Jeez. You really don’t like hockey, do you? It’s true, though. Strategic thinking and problem-solving are a huge part of my job as a defenseman.”