Chapter Five #2
Before I can ask his name, he smacks his palm into his fist and grins, showing a gap in his teeth where one is missing. “I saw you hit that guy. It was so cool! You were like, Blam! And he was like, Augh!” The kid covers his face and cowers, acting out both parts of his one-man show.
“I saw it, too!” a girl pipes up. She doesn’t seem anywhere near as impressed as the boys do. “Why’d you attack that guy? Seemed kinda mean to me.”
I take a deep breath. They’re just kids, but in some ways, that makes my answer feel even more important. “You want to know the truth?”
I could lie. Give them something cleaner, easier to understand. Something that makes me look better. That’s probably what I’m supposed to do. Instead, the truth comes up before I can stop it.
There are at least a dozen kids around me now, all of whom answer in the affirmative. I check to make sure that Remy is busy elsewhere. Fortunately, she’s chatting up some parents, so I don’t have to worry that she’ll overhear more than I’m ready to admit to her.
I drop to one knee and wave all of them into a huddle. “The truth is, I was scared.”
Saying it out loud feels different than thinking it. Heavier. Like I’ve handed them something real instead of the version everyone else gets.
The kid with the missing tooth whistles. “But you’re bigger than that other guy!”
I shake my head. “I wasn’t scared of him. I was scared because my mom was having a hard day, and I couldn’t be there to help her.”
Every single one of those kids gets real quiet. Maybe not all kids understand the feeling, but if the majority of these families are struggling, then they know exactly how I feel.
One of the girls asks, “Is she okay now?”
“Yeah.” I smile. “Thanks for asking.”
“Was she sick?” another kid asks.
Oof. Middle schoolers shouldn’t have to think about shit like sick moms, which makes me wonder what’s going on in that kid’s life. “No, but her house got damaged, and I wasn’t sure that she was safe there.”
Another round of knowing nods passes through the group.
They get it faster than most adults do. No analysis, no second-guessing. Just understanding. It shouldn’t surprise me, but it does.
“My grandma’s power got turned off for four whole days this summer,” a little boy says.
“Ours got turned off for two weeks,” a girl says.
“It’s scary when stuff happens that you can’t control, right? And sometimes you make a poor choice because you feel desperate. Just like I did.” I rise to my feet. “So, who wants to run some drills like we do in the NHL?”
If my teammates could see the enthusiasm with which all these kids respond, they would laugh their asses off.
It’s a big mess, and some volunteers have to step in to control ensuing chaos, but it’s…
Fun? The kids want to show off their skills, so I mostly watch and nod and give them thumbs-up when they pull off a decently cool move.
Mentoring. I actually don’t suck at it. Who knew?
When I glance up, I catch her watching me. Not with that tight, critical look from earlier. Something else. Softer. Like she’s seeing something she didn’t expect.
* * *
When it’s time to wind down, I say good-bye to the kids, dash off a couple of signatures, and stop to pat the goodest boy who accompanied one of the volunteers to the rink today.
“So handsome!” I coo, momentarily forgetting that I have an audience as I rub the golden retriever’s belly. “Look at this pink tummy! Does that feel nice?”
I forget she’s there for a second. Forget the meeting, the clip, all of it. It’s just me and a dog who wants belly rubs and a moment that doesn’t require anything from me.
A muffled laugh makes me look up. Remy has her hand over her mouth, pretending to clear her throat. I give the dog one last pat. Listen, I have my pride, but Mister Bean is a very cute pupper.
On our way out, the rink’s owner comes over to personally thank me for visiting. “We’re a really small establishment. It’s an honor to have you here. The kids loved meeting you.” He pumps my hand like a used car salesman. I’m not sure what he’s trying to sell me, since I already did the event.
“Thank her.” I nod to Remy.
“Oh, believe me, I already have.” He follows up his monster handshake with a lung-rattling thump on my back. “See you around!”
“Um.” Did Remy tell him I’d be back? Is this going to be my thing now?
I mean. I guess it wouldn’t be terrible. Adults can be overwhelming, but the kids were alright.
Remy doesn’t speak to me directly until we’re in the car and headed back into the city. “See?” she asks in the privacy of the rear seat. “You survived.”
“Uh-huh.”
She brushes a few loose hairs out of her face. “You’re pretty good with kids. I was surprised.”
That wasn’t what she expected. I hear it in her tone like she’s recalculating something she thought she already had figured out.
“Because I’m a monster?”
She rolls her eyes. “Because you talked to them. You had quite the team huddle going at one point.”
“Mm. Yeah.” I don’t want to repeat our awkward ride from earlier, but if I don’t talk, she’ll assume I’m sulking again. “Kids, you know. Don’t judge.” I rub my nose with my thumb.
Remy’s only response is to stare at me, her head tilted to one side, wearing the same expression Shutout does when he wants something from me. Not that she’d appreciate the comparison.
She studies me for so long that I start to squirm. Earlier, she dismissed me. Now, she’s looking deeper. Her green eyes cut right through me.
I don’t like being looked at that way. Not because it’s hostile, but because it isn’t. Because it feels like she’s getting closer to something I haven’t decided whether I’m willing to give her.
Things were easier when we were squabbling. Now, with my defenses down, I let myself study her, too. Her freckles extend down her neck, into the collar of her jersey. Her lips are full and pouty. There’s a floral smell that accompanies her everywhere. Jasmine, maybe?
Whatever it is, I like it.
Which is a problem, considering she’s here to pick me apart.