Chapter 14
JAMIE
“Jamie, you’re making me feel bad,” Sebastian says. “I might have to start taking it easy on you.”
I just grunt in response. Grunting is mostly how I’ve been communicating since this afternoon.
I stayed up all night with Carmen. We drove back while the sun slowly filled the sky with the colorless light of a winter morning.
All morning, I felt great. Riding on a natural high. Not paying an ounce of attention to any of my classes because I was too busy replaying every minute of the night I spent with Carmen.
Just after noon, I crashed.
If this is how Carmen’s trouble sleeping makes her feel most days, it’s no mystery why she’s standoffish.
I don’t feel like myself at all. I’m irritable and in a bad mood. I can’t concentrate. And here at practice, my performance is in the toilet. Sebastian’s been wiping the ice with me in our one-on-one drills.
Do I regret staying up with Carmen? Not for one fucking second. I’m more than happy to pay the price.
One person who isn’t happy, though, is Coach Torres.
“Jamie! Get your ass over here!” he calls to me from where he sits on the bench.
A weak growl rolls in my throat. I skate to him, ready to be chewed out.
Coach’s brow is pulled low above his eyes. “O’Donnell, I didn’t start coaching yesterday. I know what it looks like when a player’s been up all night doing who-knows-what.”
“Coach, I …” my brain fails me before I can even think of anything.
Coach tilts his head. “Yeah, O’Donnell? I didn’t say anything, so you can go ahead with whatever bullshit you were about to serve me.”
All I can do is sigh. “Sorry.”
Coach’s eyes assess me. “Your record is squeaky-clean, so I won’t ride your ass too hard about today.
I’ll just assume you pulled an all-nighter studying.
Even though, in my experience, every player who uses that excuse is full of shit.
Just remember, you’re not just any player on this team.
You’re the captain. You have responsibilities no one else does.
This time of year, everyone’s going to be tempted to cut corners and take it easy.
You need to lead by example and not do that. ”
I know he’s right. I feel a twinge of guilt, but there’s no way I can bring myself to regret staying up all night talking with Carmen on the hood of my car.
A question flashes in my mind: would I sacrifice a hockey game to do it again?
The answer arrives quickly: Yes.
Would I sacrifice the championship to do it again?
That’s a question I don’t dare answer.
“I know, Coach. You’re right. It won’t happen again.”
Coach nods guardedly. “Most of the time when someone has to use those words, it’s wise not to believe them. But with you, I do. Don’t make me regret it.”
Back in the locker room, stripping off my pads feels like more effort than a session in the weight room. I’m gonna crash when we get home.
“You look knackered, Jamie,” Veikko says.
Carter guffaws. “Knackered?”
Veikko seems puzzled. “Is that not a common English colloquialism for tired?”
“Yeah, it’s English English,” Sebastian says. “They say it in Britain. It’s not an American thing.”
Veikko nods. “I see. Colloquialisms are difficult. I have been making an effort to study and use them. In fact, I came across one obscene colloquialism that I found very distasteful.”
Felix’s face lights up with amusement. “What’s that?”
“This expression, I wouldn’t fuck her with your dick. Used to speak about a woman that a man very much does not want to sleep with.”
Veikko’s deadpan delivery has everyone around us cracking up. As tired as I am, even my lips are curled.
“You would imagine a man would say this to one of his friends. Not only does it display a toxic masculinity and vulgarity that I don’t appreciate, but does this not betray a shameful disregard for their friend, implying that he would be more reckless with his friend’s dick than his own?
” Veikko shakes his head in disapproval.
“This is no way to treat a friend’s anatomy. ”
“It’s like borrowing a friend’s car,” Sebastian says. “You need to be even more careful with it than you would your own.”
“Exactly,” Veikko pronounces.
“So you’re saying you’d take real good care of my cock if I gave it to you, Veikko?” Felix asks. There’s a gleam in his eye. I can’t quite put my finger on how, but there’s something different about it compared to his usual look.
Veikko seems caught off guard, his lips puckering in a way I’ve never seen before.
As amusing as this conversation is, I’m too tired to stick around and laugh at it. I drag myself to the shower and try not to doze as the hot steam wraps around me.
I try to remember Coach’s words. I’m the leader of this team. I agreed to that role and the responsibilities that come with it. I need to hold myself to the highest standard.
But if I get another chance to stay up all night talking with Carmen—I’m doing it again.
Two days later, the guys and I are at Pasqually’s, a local pizza place. We’ve all been good at sticking to our diets lately, so we decided that a little cheat meal wouldn’t hurt.
Not that there’s anything little about the grease-drenched and cheese-piled portions at Pasqually’s.
The guys and I are talking about our upcoming game against New Hampshire, when Dave, the owner of Pasqually’s, groans. “Aww, dammit.”
“What’s wrong, Dave?” Carter asks. Dave’s a huge Black Bears fan, having operated the restaurant here in town for over thirty years. Oftentimes after a meal, he’ll surprise us by insisting it’s on the house, though we try not to take advantage of it.
“My delivery driver left early, but I forgot to turn the online delivery ordering off,” he says. “My car’s in the shop, and the two cooks on shift right now take the bus in from out of town. I don’t wanna cancel on a good customer, though. I guess I could walk it over …”
“How far is it?” Sebastian asks.
Dave sighs. “Other side of town. Not that it’s a big town here or nothin’. But still, my knee’s been acting up, and the cold weather doesn’t do it any favors …”
“One of us could deliver it for you,” Felix says.
Dave leans against the order counter, thinking. “You sure you wouldn’t mind? If you did it, meals would be on the house tonight, of course.”
I wave my hand, dismissing the offer. “You’ve been doing that too often, Dave. We don’t want to feel like freeloaders.”
“Right,” Sebastian says. “We’ll do it out of the kindness of our hearts.”
Dave ponders. “If you’re sure.”
“We’re sure,” Veikko says. “We will play rock-paper-scissors for who has to go.”
Dave chuckles. “You’re all good boys. I don’t care what the owner of Pizza Paradise says.”
“Stop slandering the competition, Dave,” Sebastian replies with a grin.
“Alright, alright. It’s a small order, so it’ll be done before your food. The address is …”
Dave rattles off the address—and it’s one I recognize.
A jolt of electricity rockets up my spine. I straighten like a rod in my seat.
“I’ll go!” I blurt out.
Eyes turn to me. Suspicion swims in Sebastian’s. “Why so eager?” he asks.
I hesitate. “Well … just realized I could use the exercise.”
The guys understandably aren’t buying it. Luckily, Dave saves me from more grilling by announcing, “It’s ready.”
“That quick?” Carter asks as I eagerly leap to my feet.
“Yep,” Dave answers. “Just a soup and a salad.”
I don’t waste a second snagging the bag and hurrying to the door. The last thing I hear is one of the guys asking, “What’s his deal?” as I close the old wooden door behind me and step from the warm and cozy pizza place into the freezing night.
Two nights ago, when Carmen and I went stargazing, we were enjoying a brief respite of milder weather. But since yesterday, the full force of Vermont winter has stormed back with a vengeance.
By the time I’m a block away from Pasqually’s, a hard, harsh rain is starting to fall. It only lasts a couple seconds, though, because it turns into something more than rain.
It starts to hail.
Slowly at first. Then faster. The clumps of ice grow at an alarming rate, and soon I’m running along the sidewalk with my head down and my shoulders hunched as I get pelted by hailstones.
The sound of hail smashing against the ground has grown to a steady roar by the time I arrive.
I hurry past Cindy’s house to the back apartment where Carmen lives.
I breathe a sigh of relief when I’m up the stairs and underneath the short awning in front of her second-story door.
At least I don’t have hailstones smashing into me.
I knock on her door. The noise of the hail pummeling everything only grows. I think I hear a window shatter somewhere nearby.
The lock of the door clicks open, and anticipation wells in my throat. I jumped at the excuse to deliver this just to see Carmen, but now I’m second-guessing myself. What if she sees me and immediately thinks I’ve turned into a creepy stalker, even after I explain the situation?
But I don’t have much time to live in my head. The door quickly swings open.
My heart twists at the sight of her in an oversized sweater and shorts. I can’t stop my gaze from ticking down. Her shapely, tanned legs and the fluffy socks that go halfway up her shins scramble my brain. The base of my cock aches with a sharp, hot throb.
I quickly pull my eyes back to find her brow pinched with surprise and bewilderment.
But unless I’m being too optimistic … it’s not pinched with displeasure.
“Jamie?” she asks.
With a nervous smile, I hold up the order bag. “Bon apetit.”
A guarded grin tilts on her mouth. She slants her head, looking dumbfounded. “You’re a delivery boy now?”
“It’s a long story.”
She looks over my shoulder. Her expression pulls with worry as the rumble of the hailstorm grows. Another sound like shattering glass pops over the din.
“Come on,” she says, stepping back to make room in the doorway. “You’d better tell it inside.”