25. Amelia
TWENTY-FIVE
AMELIA
DECEMBER, FOUR SEASONS AGO
GE
I’m bored. Tell me a secret.
Something no one else knows about you.
Me
Aren’t you playing a game in an hour?
GE
Yeah. Keep me occupied until I take the ice.
Me
Let me think. You go first.
GE
Hudson has a new personal chef, and her daughter is Deaf.
He’s learning sign language so he can communicate with her, and I’m going to some of his lessons in between practices.
It’s hard, but really rewarding.
Me
That might be the most precious thing I’ve ever heard.
How kind of him to do that, and how nice of you to join him.
GE
We’re brothers. That’s what we do.
*Attachment: 1 image*
From our lesson last week
Me
Your nails are painted!
What’s the story behind that?
GE
Girls’ night with Emmy, Piper, Lexi, and Madeline!
(that’s Hudson’s personal chef and the new addition to their group)
(he has such a crush on her lol)
Me
I like the red polish. That’s my favorite color.
GE
Is it?
Good to know!
Okay, Green. Hit me with your secret. I have a game to play!
Me
You’re going to think I’m a horrible person when I tell you this.
GE
*Attachment: 1 image*
I’m literally on the edge of my seat in the locker room.
Me
Your skate is untied.
GE
Shh. Don’t mess with my rituals, Amelia. It’ll get tied when it gets tied.
And stop trying to deflect. I’m nosy, and I want to know.
Me
Strap in. It’s kind of a long one!
My college boyfriend was also a hockey player. The cocky type, who has never been told no. I mentioned that the women’s hockey program would benefit from additional funding, and he said we’d get more money if we drew the same kind of crowd the guys did.
GE
Oh no. I see where this is going.
Me
You should know something about me, Everett. I’m VERY passionate about the things I care about.
And, shocker, I care a lot about hockey.
Anyway. We were at a Mexican restaurant for dinner, and he was eating nachos. When he saw some of his buddies at the bar, I flagged down the server, asked for a side of jalapenos (he hated spicy food), and hid them on his plate.
He ate half before he complained about the food being too hot.
An hour later, he was in the bathroom with diarrhea, and I never told him what I did. I blamed it on food poisoning.
GE
Oh my GOD.
Goddamn, you’re a badass.
I’m literally laughing so hard I’m crying.
Five minutes before I have to take the ice, and I’m about to pee my pants.
Better than shitting myself like your horrible ex did.
Me
I’m not a violent person, but he deserved some sort of punishment for his comments.
We didn’t date much longer after that.
GE
If I play horribly, it’s because I’m too caught up in wishing I had seen that happen in real life.
You win the secret of the night.
Me
Thank you very much! What do I get as my prize?
GE
A gold star.
Me
I do like positive reinforcement.
Are we going to keep doing this?
GE
Could be fun. One secret a day until we run out.
Me
Sounds like a plan to me.
Have a good game, Grant.
GE
Thanks, Amelia :)
“Why are you smiling?” Lainey asks.
“No reason.” I turn my phone so the screen is down on the restaurant table and focus on my friends sitting across from me at happy hour. “It was a stupid meme that made me laugh.”
“You’re such a liar.” Sienna narrows her eyes. “That’s not a meme laugh.”
“It was funny!” I wave them off and pick up my menu, giving it a scan. “I’ve heard great things about this place.”
“We had to pick somewhere new after Lainey broke it off with that chef of hers.”
“It’s not my fault he was married with two kids and living a secret life.” Lainey finishes off beer and scoots the bottle to the edge of the table. “Men really have the audacity to try me.”
“You have a face that makes people think they can get away with anything,” Sienna says. “But I say that with love. We all have our faults.”
“I didn’t know this was going to turn into a forum where we aired our flaws.” I shut the menu and lean forward, smirking at my best friend. “Please tell me what our faults are.”
“Mine is thinking I can fix a man. Someone broken? Someone who has been through hell but refuses to go to therapy and get the help they need?” Sienna holds out her arms with a grin. “I can make them brand-new… until they revert to old behavior, and I’m left picking a new patient.”
“That’s scarily accurate.” I laugh. “We all like to believe we can be the problem solver, but we never are.”
“Your self-awareness for knowing your downfall is admirable, Si.” Lainey lifts her chin in my direction. “Do our girl Amelia next.”
“Easy. Amelia never lets a man get too close because she’s afraid of two things: One, that the media will call her a slut for having a personal relationship.
Which we know is bullshit, seeing as they don’t label the men in the league the same way.
” Sienna arches a sardonic brow, then shakes her head.
“And two, that she’ll give up too much of herself, and he’ll take away the things she’s worked so hard for. ”
“Damn.” Lainey whistles. “You’re good.”
“I hate that you’re right,” I say. “I hate that I’m called names while guys out there are sleeping with half the goddamn city. And I am worried that a man will take too much from me, and I’ll lose everything.”
“I’ll be here all night, folks,” Sienna jokes. “Next we’re going to talk about how my inability to pick the right men stems from my daddy issues.”
“I need another round for that.” Lainey pops to her feet and heads for the bar to grab us more drinks. “Back soon.”
“I hope one day you find someone who’s worth being a slut for.” Sienna reaches across the table and takes my hand. “Men don’t bring us happiness, but maybe there’s a guy out there who you would endure those rumors for because he’s perfect.”
“Aw, sweetie. It’s cute you think a man could be perfect.” I squeeze her fingers and laugh again. “None of them ever are.”
“Okay, let me amend it to someone almost perfect. Who would make the scathing social media comments worth it.”
“I’ll find him the day you find your fixable man.” My phone chimes, and I pull my hand away. “It’s probably best we keep dreaming.”
There’s a new message from Grant, and I slide my thumb across the screen.
GE
Check out my souvenir from the first period.
*Attachment: 1 image*
Me
What the hell happened to your nose? Did you get in a fight with the boards? Are you even allowed to be texting right now?
GE
I did get in a fight, and the boards won.
My ass took a bruising too.
And nope, not supposed to be texting, but I had to document my injury. Don’t tell Coach!!
A laugh sneaks out of me.
“What’s so funny?” Lainey asks, returning with a wine and two beers. She doles out the drinks and drops in her seat. “Amelia Green. Are you blushing?”
“I’m not blushing.” I tuck my phone in my purse. “I’m acknowledging something funny.”
“Another meme?” Sienna draws out.
“It’s not important.”
“Is it a man?” Lainey squeals. “Oh my god. I’ve been waiting for this moment.”
“Okay, yes, it’s a man,” I say, resigned. “But we’re friends. Just friends. And all we’ll ever be is friends.”
“You’re friendzoning him already? That’s harsh, Amelia,” Sienna says.
“He’s off-limits. And not because he’s married like the last guy Lainey was with,” I explain. “He’s in the league, and I’m trying to be careful about boundaries and making sure our friendship isn’t misconstrued.”
I’ve found myself stuck in a cycle; glad I have someone I connect with so easily while gripped with guilt that I’m going to have to walk away from this friendship one day. There’s no way two single people can continue down this path.
Grant is an attractive athlete who will meet a woman and start dating her.
Talking to me as much as he does will cross another line, and our communication will taper off.
Five years from now, he’ll be married with the family he wants, and I’ll be right here: aware I should’ve stopped things sooner, but I didn’t.
“This is when being a woman in sports is bullshit,” Sienna says.
“If we worked in an office setting, friendships with your colleagues would be expected. Hell. People would label you as a bitch if you actively avoided talking to them. But on the court? On the field? On the ice? The second we laugh too loudly at a joke, we’re perceived as desperate or trying to get ahead.
And if we look at a guy for a second too long, people assume we want to fuck them. It’s so obnoxious.”
“I agree. I want to burn the patriarchy down too, but I know I can never, ever cross the boundary I’ve established. That’s why I’ve made it so clear to him that this is platonic.” I shrug. “He’s been okay with it so far. No making passes, no flirting.”
“Is he a nice guy?” Lainey asks. “If you worked in finance and he was someone in, I don’t know, banking or some other boring-ass job, would he be someone you’d go for?”
“I’m not sure. He’s younger than me. There are eight years between us, and that’s a lifetime.
And he’s so goddamn nice. Too nice, almost. I keep waiting for him to drop the act, but he doesn’t.
It’s frustrating,” I say. “I’ve been around so many shitty guys that any man who says please and thank you on a regular basis seems overly absurd. ”
“But he makes you smile. What’s that about?”
“He’s fun to talk to. Interesting, you know? It’s not the same generic conversations about jobs and families and where I see myself in ten years. It’s… easy,” I supply.
“You work too damn hard not to have any fun off the ice,” Lainey says. “If this guy is someone who can help you blow off some steam without it impacting your job, why not keep talking to him?”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” I grab the wine waiting for me and sip it slowly. “It’s something to consider.”
I’m able to restrain myself from checking my phone until I get back to my apartment. When I do, I’m not surprised to find three notifications from Grant.
GE
FYI, if I knew you when you were in college, I would have kicked your ex-boyfriend’s ass for shits and giggles.
I also would have given you another serving of jalapenos to put in his food.
What are friends for?
What are friends for, if not for making you smile even when they’re not around?