Chapter Nine Jamie
(I Waited Outside His Door)
This time, I'm the one to take Harper on vacation after the school year ends.
The two of us start with a week in New York City.
Our trip is loaded with incredible food and incredible shows and incredible museums. I'm only met with a small amount of attention from the hockey world when I stop by the NHL store in Manhattan.
When we move on from there, we spend a week in Boston.
We visit a few old acquaintances of mine, eat more amazing food, and explore historical landmarks until Harper tells me she's tired.
I know she's giving me a reason to rest my leg.
In both cities, we tour universities that would like her to commit to playing soccer for them. Harper isn't sure she wants to go to college so far from home, and I'm going to struggle with her going anywhere. She has a little more time to decide, and I’ll support her regardless.
While we're gone, she calls her new boyfriend—Zaiden has been replaced by a swimmer named Dean—as often as she can. I send Mateo dozens of pictures, but he and I don't talk, and I miss his voice more than I should. He sends me dozens of replies and tells me he misses me, too.
Harper and I get back to California at the beginning of July, but by then, Mateo has gone with Sophie and a couple of other teachers up to Lake Tahoe for the holiday. I watch fireworks from my backyard.
After that, though—
After that, we have some of the best months of our lives.
For the rest of that summer, we keep Harper in the dark, just like we'd planned. The bar remains a relatively safe place for us to go, but we’re ready to try spending time anywhere else, however cautious we are at first. I hold excuses for the public on the tip of my tongue the night I’m finally introduced to Sophie, but Mateo’s favorite Mexican restaurant does me the favor of serving great food under shitty lighting.
From a table in the corner, the three of us get tipsy on the same happy hour margaritas he tells me he once ditched for a sad batch of his own.
We catch an outdoor concert after sundown, and most people around us are too drunk or high to care who we are.
We wander further from potentially curious fans or students, and drive up and down the coast for miles and miles.
Sometimes we find something to do in either direction, and sometimes we're happy simply talking to each other or singing along with somebody's favorite songs. When we stay close to home, we meet at the mall or the pier and walk around from there, prepared to explain it away as a happy accident when we run into anyone we know. If we’re captured in a stranger’s picture, the space between us will fit a few denials.
In between it all, we talk. Sometimes I keep him up too late on a weeknight because it's hard to say goodbye. Sometimes he wakes me early on a weekend morning, when my voice is still gravelly and Harper is sound asleep.
It's nice to tell the truth more often. I enjoy getting my way. It's also nice when Mateo gets his, and he holds me.
When we want to be close to each other, we do it on the nights Harper is at her mom’s or out with friends.
My house is obviously larger and fancier and full of high-end bullshit as far as the eye can see, but I almost always go to Mateo's apartment just in case she returns unexpectedly.
And it's fine, really. He and I mostly end up wrapped around each other, so I'm not sure it matters how big the couch is. His queen bed is fine, too.
I still react too strongly when he touches me, but I'm not sure that matters either.
"I love it—knowing how I make you feel," Mateo murmurs against my skin before he pulls back to be friends again. "I’ll want to know for the rest of our lives."
It's unfair how much I want to kiss him for that, and I bite his shoulder instead.
In the middle of the summer, Harper gets a part-time job because she wants to save her own money for when she moves out. I tell Mateo about it on another one of our nights together.
"She's a hostess at a restaurant on the water, and she loves it so far. Gets along with everyone she works with. Chats with everyone waiting for a table."
"I'm not even a little surprised."
I laugh. "No, I didn't really figure you would be."
"And I'll probably hear a lot about it from her throughout the school year."
"Juggling a job, a boyfriend, and soccer should be interesting."
"Juggling a job, a boyfriend, soccer, and class with the new AP English teacher," Mateo smiles.
Vaguely, I remember a conversation in my kitchen, when Harper had gone on and on about her first week of high school and someone she’d called Mr. Z.
She'd said something back then about him taking over the AP class when another teacher retired.
I was busy being head over heels for a guy named Mateo, and so much of that time was lost to daydreams. I blink hard now and push bittersweet memories away.
"Does that change things?" I ask. "Between us, I mean."
He reaches for me, gentle and honest. "I don't think anything could."
Closer to the start of the school year, he gets busy again, and I'm swept up in Harper's excitement.
She's close to deciding about college, and she’ll be reuniting with friends she hasn't seen much over the summer, everyone comparing schedules as soon as they're released.
She squeals, of course, when she sees that she'll be in Mateo's class again.
She has an entire school year ahead with her favorite teacher and coach.
And I hadn't thought about it before, but because he's her teacher again, I see him at a back-to-school night. I'm prepared for his gorgeous grin in a way that hadn't been true three years ago.
"Mateo Zavala," I say almost teasingly, my hand outstretched. "It's been a little while since my first visit to your classroom."
"It has been, but having Harper in class is as much of a pleasure now as it was back then. Fewer surprises, though—among all the kids in the AP class, I mean. I taught a lot of them as freshmen, and now I'll be getting them ready for graduation."
"Ugh, I can't wait," Harper says. "Not to be, like, rude about school or anything.
But once I get through all of this, I'll have so much freedom and chances to do so many new things, and I'm just really freaking out about it?
In a good way? So, yeah, this class will be cool and soccer will be awesome, and then I'll graduate and everything will be sooooo—I just can't wait. "
"Be careful about wishing away time, pixie," I warn, as hypocritical as anyone has ever been.
"Okay, yeah, I know."
I tug on her ponytail once, then turn my attention back to Mateo.
"Speaking of time, if you have some to spare, I may be looking for someone to go with me to a hockey game or two this season.
I know Harper offered you my autograph the last time we stood here, but I always get tickets.
She's busier than ever, so I'd be happy to take you if you're interested. "
"I am. Unless it's weird for you?" he asks, his eyebrow raised in Harper's direction.
"It's very mildly weird, but not like, weird weird?" she answers. "And he's right that I'm busy. Plus, he should get used to me not being around, for next year when, you know, I won't be around. So, yeah. It's good. Go to some games."
She nods. I nod. Mateo nods. And it's as easy as that.
Mateo and I go to a game the second week of the hockey season.
It's probably sooner than we should, but it feels like a step we could've taken a long time ago. I tell myself I’ve been to games with Kai, and with lesser-known ex-teammates, and this shouldn’t look any different.
Still, on our way to the arena, I remind him it'll be the first time we're surrounded by people likely to recognize me. I offer him the chance to turn around and know he won’t take it.
He chuckles, and when he points out that he'll have to get used to it eventually, I silently count the months ahead.
Eight. There are only eight months left before a crowd just like tonight's sees my name in a headline and asks questions about my future I once never expected to answer.
We go to another game in November. We've each got a beer in our hands and L.A.
is up two, but my focus has been drawn to where Mateo sits next to me.
He's chanting something with the rest of the crowd, but my eyes follow the sexy stubble on his jaw up to the strands of hair falling free from his ponytail.
I'm in love. Then, just a few minutes before the third period starts, I remember an afternoon on the soccer field when we were just learning how to talk to each other without naive promises making it easy.
"Has anyone taken you skating and put a stick in your hands?"
Mateo's smile is subtle, but I can see it in the tiny crinkles next to his eyes. "Not yet."
"Somebody should."
"I hope somebody does."
So, that's our next date. With the high school soccer season and Thanksgiving weekend complicating our schedules—not to mention the precious time I spend with a daughter who has several better things to do—it's mid-December before we make it happen. It works out though, because Los Angeles is on a four-game road trip, and I’d always made nice with employees at the practice facility.
We get the place to ourselves for an hour I'd be willing to pay for ten times over.
I stand back to watch while Mateo laces up his borrowed skates.
He glances up at me. "This really won't mess with your leg?"
"You think I'd be doing this if it would hurt me?"
"Yes."
I shake my head, but don't argue when we both know he's right. "Come on. Time for me to steady your wobbly ass."