Cat
“I could really go for a change in the weather,” Vada grumbles when she meets me by my locker this afternoon.
I shove my math textbook into my backpack as I look past her through the windowed doors. Rain is falling in sheets. “Me, too. It’s so depressing.”
It’s been exceptionally dreary these past few days. Wet and cold and not at all uplifting.
Tori rushes toward us through the crowd of students filling the hallway. “Hey!” She skitters to a halt in front of us, taking two huge gulps of air as she catches her breath. “I need to up my cardio, jeez,” she gasps, making me laugh.
“Oh, I’m sure Shay would be more than willing to help you with that,” Vada teases, rubbing Tori’s back while she’s bent over and resting her hands on her thighs.
“I can always count on you to make things inappropriate,” Tori laughs, then straightens up. “Okay, so, Shane just texted me. He got the evening off. We’re on for the movie!”
“Movie?” I ask, zipping my backpack shut.
Vada nods. “Yeah, remember I was telling you about that horror movie? Man, I don’t remember what it’s called. The one where the mom dies but then comes back to life, but, like, as a demon or something?”
“Oh, right. That’s tonight?”
“I had suggested it to Stevie. We need a date…” Vada trails off, a frown passing over her brow. “You’re obviously coming.”
I look at Vada, then Tori. “So, you two, Stevie, and Shay?”
They nod. “Uh-huh.”
I consider the idea, and that consistent ache in my chest—the ache caused by Ronan’s absence—flares up. “You know, I think I’m going to bow out.” Despite my efforts to keep my voice neutral, I don’t think I’m successful at hiding the sadness.
“Aww, no, you should come,” Tori says, resting a hand on my shoulder.
“No, really. You four should enjoy your double-date. Honestly. I’m sure you’ll be cuddling with Shay, and Vada’s probably going to end up giving Stevie a blow job during some slasher scene,” I say with a grin at Vada.
Tori giggles. “Wow, you’ve been hanging out with Vada too much.”
“And how exactly is that a bad thing? But, yeah, ’s probably right. Stevie could use one of those,” Vada says, nodding to herself.
“Please don’t,” Tori groans, shaking her head. It makes me laugh.
“Are you sure you don’t want to tag along though, Kitty ?” Vada asks.
“Yeah, I’m—" I’m interrupted by Drew walking up to us.
“Hey guys,” he says, his ginormous hockey bag slung across his back.
“Hi Drew,” Tori says while Vada smiles.
“You guys coming to the game tonight?” he asks.
Vada finally pulls her bag over her shoulder. “No, Tori and I are going to the movies with Shane and Stevie.”
“Oh, you guys seeing Mommy Dearest?” Drew asks.
Vada snaps her fingers. “That’s what it was called. Yeah, have you seen it yet?”
He shrugs, unimpressed. “Yeah, I saw it over break. It’s alright. Couple good jump scares, but pretty vanilla otherwise,” he says before turning his attention to me. “But you could come to the game,” Drew says, a lopsided smile on his burly face.
“Oh, uhh…”
“Come on,” he says with a chuckle. “Should be a good game. We’re playing the Knights. Long-standing rivalry.”
“You’re not planning on scoring an own goal tonight, right?” Vada mocks.
“Funny,” he says dryly. He faces me. “Come!”
Oh, why the hell not. “Okay, sure,” I say with a small shrug. I have nothing better to do, and it could be fun to go watch a game. Better than sitting at home alone, dwelling, wallowing.
“Sweet. Game starts at six.” Drew adjusts his hockey bag and trudges off.
“Hockey will be fun,” Tori says, clearly relieved I won’t just be sitting around all alone tonight while she, Vada, and their guys are out on a date when it’s so obvious how much Ronan’s absence weighs on me. “If only you had been here when it was Shay, Ran, and Stevie on the team. So damn sexy,” she sighs, while Vada nods vigorously.
I giggle. “So I’ve heard.”
“You know the coach would refer to them as the ‘Irish triple threat?’” Vada tells me as we make our way toward the front doors.
“Really?”
“Oh, yeah. The announcers, too. They were so good together.” Tori swoons, then pushes the front doors open and frowns at the pouring rain. “Ugh, I’m over this weather.”
***
As soon as Vada drops me off at home, I get started on my lengthy list of homework assignments. Seems my teachers have decided to make senior year count rather than let us coast through it because the well of projects, reports, and presentations seems positively bottomless. I spend at least a couple of hours each day with my nose in my textbooks. Admittedly, it’s a pretty good distraction from my heart’s longing for Ronan, with whom I’m sure I’d be spending most of my afternoons and evenings were he still in New York.
I’m about to tackle one of my least-favorite subjects—calculus—when my phone buzzes on my desk.
“Hi Dad,” I answer his call, continuing to flip through my thick math book to find the pages I need to complete for class tomorrow. “This is actually great timing. I’m doing homework and I could really use you talking me through this problem I’ve had trouble with today.”
He chuckles. “Ah yes, my chance to flex my math superhero skills.”
I giggle at him. My dad is such a dork. I truly wonder how he landed a badass boss babe like my mom in high school. My mom has it all—the brains, the looks, the career. I mean, my dad holds his own, I guess. He’s obviously smart and he’s not bad looking by any means. He’s always been tall and trim, even in high school, but he was certainly no Ronan. He was nowhere near as conditioned and built as Ronan, nor does he have those distinctly masculine facial features, even now at twenty years Ronan’s senior. Ronan has the most amazing jawline with strong, hard lines, the most perfect lips—soft and full, a beautifully shaped cupid’s bow—and the most intense eyes that I swear have a way of looking directly into my soul. And don’t get me started on the rest of him. Ugh.
I inherited my dad’s height and blonde, wavy hair, but that’s about it. My grandparents often comment how I’m like my mom’s seventeen-year-old twin.
“Uh, sure, if that’s what you want to call it,” I say into the phone, smiling to myself.
“You deny my genius math skills?”
I laugh. “Not at all, Dad. I’m just not sure I’d call them ‘superhero’ skills.”
He snorts a laugh. “Yeah, okay, maybe that’s a bit pretentious. Alright, hit me with this math problem. We’ll walk through it.”
I spend the next twenty minutes working through various math problems with my dad. He really is great at this—always has been. I was actually in his AP math class when I was a sophomore and have always appreciated his ability to make even the most complex math concepts understandable to anyone. He was awarded teacher of the year a number of times, even on the state level. He’s accomplished in his own right, even though he doesn’t make nearly the kind of money my mom does. But whenever anyone asks if it bothers him that his wife makes more money than him, he laughs and waves them off. “My wife isn’t my competition. She’s my equal in everything. She chose a career she loves, and I chose one I’m passionate about. The money is secondary. Do what you love with the person you love by your side, and most everything else will fall into place.”
I’ve always loved how supportive he is of her. I only wish he was as supportive of me. Or maybe he is?
I shut my book and stretch my arms over my head, cracking my back in the process. “Thanks for the help, Dad. That made a lot more sense than when Ms. Brooks tried to explain it in class today.”
“Anytime, Kitty. Glad I could be of help. But you know there was an actual reason I called today.”
“Oh,” I giggle. “You didn’t just call to do my math homework for me?”
“Not entirely. So, I reached out to an old college buddy of mine, Vincent. He’s an English lit professor at Duke. He was obviously stoked to hear that my soon-to-be college freshman applied to Duke, and he agreed to give us an exclusive tour of the campus, maybe make some introductions with some folks who might have a little bit of input in acceptance decision-making?”
My brows knit together while my lips pucker. “Dad,” I just groan, letting my head fall into my hands.
“What? Connections only hurt those who don’t have them,” he says with a self-important chuckle.
“This… it’s so much pressure, Dad.”
“No, it’s not, Kitty. Your application is already in. You have the grades; you have the legacy; there’s no reason you wouldn’t get into Duke. I just want you to get the Duke experience without having to endure a freshman orientation tour,” he says, sounding decidedly lighthearted.
I submitted my application the day after my mom and I returned from North Carolina and it noticeably boosted my dad’s overall mood.
“Why are you so intent on me going to Duke? Every single one of the other colleges I applied to are great as well. Or are you going to try to tell me that Columbia doesn’t measure up to Duke?”
He’s silent. I know he’s trying to remain calm, to choose his words wisely. “, I’m just not convinced you’ll do what’s best for you when the time comes. I worry that, if given the choice, you’ll go to some college because of your boyfriend. I don’t want you to regret your decision.”
“And any decision that would involve me wanting to stay close to my boyfriend can only be wrong. Is that what you’re saying, Dad?”
“No,” he growls, “that’s not what I’m saying, . But I want you to at least consider all your options.”
“Sounds more like you’re trying to make the decision for me.” I’m annoyed. I’ve been annoyed by my dad a lot lately.
“, this is not up for discussion, and I would appreciate it if you stopped having such a terrible attitude. You’d think I’m trying to ship you off to boarding school. All I’m doing is providing you with opportunities. Great ones at that. You know how many kids would kill for one-on-one introductions with some of the admission decision-makers at Duke?”
Guilt sweeps through me. He’s right. “Yeah,” I say, my voice small. “And I appreciate that, Dad—”
“Doesn’t sound like you do. You sound exceptionally ungrateful, and quite frankly, , it hurts my feelings. I’m your dad. I never want anything but the absolute best for you.”
Yeah, except that we seem to have different ideas of what’s “best for me.” Or maybe my idea of what’s best for me is misguided? It was in the past, whereas my dad has never steered me wrong. But then again, isn’t that part of growing up? Being allowed to make mistakes, to make my own decisions and fail knowing my parents will be there to pick me up without making me feel like crap for making the mistake in the first place? My dad obviously doesn’t see it that way.
“I’m sorry, Dad. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful. I just… I—”
“You what, Kitty?”
I shake my head. “Nothing. So, when is this visit scheduled for?”
His voice instantly takes on a happier note. “Well, Vincent thought it might be a good idea to do it in March, when the weather is nice. That way you can get your first whiff of college campus life.”
His excitement at the idea of me attending Duke puts a smile on my lips, and I decide to make more of an effort when it comes to my dad’s well-meaning advice and his attempts to make sure I stay on the straight and narrow. I can obviously use it. It’s not like I’m not hiding some terrible secrets right now…
***
I get to the ice center at a quarter to six. Throngs of people are already in attendance. Drew wasn’t exaggerating when he told me about the rivalry between our school and the opposing team: many are wearing Knights hoodies and similar gear showing support for their home team, while many more have donned the dark-blue and black Warriors colors of my own school. Maybe I should’ve worn something to signal that I’m rooting for the Warriors, too—my school and Ronan’s hockey team. Man, how I would have loved to see him play, see him in his Warriors hockey gear, the letter C on his jersey signifying his captain title—a hard-earned and well-deserved ascension on his varsity team.
Drew was named captain in Ronan’s stead, and I can only imagine how Ronan must have felt when he got the news. He’s never talked to me about it—much like he doesn’t really talk about anything uncomfortable or painful with me, or anyone for that matter—and maybe losing his rank on the team was only a tiny upset in the grand scheme of what he’s had to live through these past few months. Maybe he hasn’t spent any time thinking about it, but then again, maybe he has.
I spot Cheyenne in the crowd and make my way over to her. She smiles when we make eye contact. “Hey ! I didn’t know you were going to the game tonight.”
“Drew finally wore me down,” I joke, and Cheyenne laughs. She’s been so much friendlier to me these past few months. I knew she had a thing for Ronan, knew they had had casual sex before he and I met, and she was obviously not fond of me. But ever since Ronan was in the hospital, Cheyenne has been a lot more cordial, even warm. Occasionally she’ll even seek me out at school just to chat or check in. It’s been unexpected but nice.
“Nice! Just you, or is everyone else coming, too?”
“Just me. Vada and Tori are on a double date with their guys. Not sure what Summer and Zack are up to.”
“Alright, well, come sit with me then.” Cheyenne hooks her arm under mine, leading me to a row of seats right behind the goalie’s net. I spot Drew immediately, dressed in his bulky hockey goalie gear as he warms up in front of the net. He likewise spots me and motions for me to come to the boards. We’re walled off by thick plastic or plexiglass, and Drew has to shout for me to understand him.
“A few of us are grabbing food after the game,” he hollers. “Wait for me and join us! Cheyenne’s coming, too.”
“Okay, sure. But my curfew is nine!” I shout back, making him chuckle.
“I’ll drop you off in time. Promise!”
***
I never knew how thrilling hockey is until I met Ronan and saw him at practice, saw him move about the ice at incredible speeds, moving the puck so effortlessly. And even though my heart aches with his absence, I do enjoy my time at the game, especially because the Warriors take home the win with a score of 3 to 1.
“So? Did you enjoy yourself?” Drew asks me once we’re in his Camaro to meet Cheyenne and the others to grab a bite to eat.
“Yeah, I did. Hockey’s definitely… action-packed. I had a hard time keeping track of the puck to be honest; I kept losing it.”
“You get used to it,” Drew says with a laugh.
“Is that hard as a goalie?” I ask him. “To just keep your eye on it the entire time?”
“In the beginning, yeah, but not anymore. You’re just so focused on it, it’s really all I pay attention to—who has the puck at any given time. What did you like the most about the game?”
“How quickly the game can change. It’s not like softball or football, where you have, like, offensive periods or whatever.” I shrug. “I like how quickly the game can take a turn in hockey. Keeps you on the edge of your seat. You’re a pretty good goalie!”
Drew did great; there were definitely a few shots I thought would make it into the net, but Drew blocked them or caught them in his gloves.
“Thanks, . You can tell Vada no own goals tonight.” He chuckles, smiling at the road ahead of him. “And, yeah, I like that about hockey, too.” Drew glances in my direction. “You should come to more games. It was really nice having you there. A beautiful face in the crowd.”
“Oh, I—”
“Nobody’s been coming to the games now that Shane and Steve have graduated, and Ronan’s probably not going to be able to play again.” Drew throws me another side-glance.
My face falls, but I nod. “Probably not…”
“Do you… Can you tell me what happened to him?” Drew asks. “I just, you know, it all kind of happened so fast. Like, he was at practice one day—got the C, too, made captain, I mean. And then he was just…” He motions his right hand like leaves blowing away in the wind. “And it’s been, like, silence and rumors and just a bunch of gossip, you know? And then he was back, but like, he was obviously hurt and… I don’t know. It’s all so shrouded in mystery. And you guys aren’t doing anything to clarify things, you know?”
I nod but clamp my mouth shut because even though Drew does hang out with us occasionally, he’s not a true “insider.” He doesn’t know what happened to Ronan, where he is and why. And I’m not about to disclose that.
He moves his hand to my leg as if to get my attention. “Hey, you know I’m your friend, right? You can talk to me about stuff. I’m here for you.” He gives my leg a little squeeze, then withdraws his hand.
“I appreciate it, Drew, but…” I trail off, searching for the right words. He raises his eyebrows but doesn’t look at me, focusing instead on the road. “It’s not my place to talk about what happened to Ran. He’s… he’s really private, and—”
Drew expels a dismissive huff. “Not so private when he hooks up with every other girl at school.” I feel a sting in my chest. My face must give me away because Drew does a quick double take. “I’m sorry. That came out wrong. I didn’t mean to upset you. I just…”
“You don’t like Ran,” I say dryly.
There’s no doubt that Ronan and Drew don’t have the warmest feelings toward each other.
“No, it’s not that. He’s… Ran’s a great forward and, I mean, he’s obviously got the brains and the looks,” Drew relents with a sigh. “He just…”
“He what?”
Drew hesitates. “Well, he kind of stole a girl from me.”
I knit my eyebrows together. As far as I know, Ronan has only ever had casual sex before me—with the exception of his relationship when he lived in Montana, I guess—so this information is surprising. I don’t know why Ronan would have withheld something like this from me.
“What do you mean he stole a girl from you?”
“Okay, maybe stole isn’t exactly the right word,” Drew says. “He… I was talking to this girl a couple of years ago—Cami. I was really into her. We had gone on a couple of dates but then… but then Ronan hooked up with her at one of Shane’s parties. And that was the end of Cami and me,” he finishes with a stony expression.
I don’t speak for a moment, allowing Drew’s words to sink in as I nod to myself. “That’s… yeah, that sucks.”
“Yep.”
“But did Ran know about you and Cami?” I would have to admit that, if Ronan knew and still did what he did, that would be a shitty thing.
Drew shrugs. “No idea. Maybe not. It doesn’t matter. It happened years ago, so…”
“It obviously still matters to you, or you wouldn’t hold this grudge, right?”
Drew shrugs again.
“Drew, I bet Ran didn’t even know about your feelings for Cami. Ran’s such a good guy. I know he’d never want to hurt anyone. If he really did what you say he did, I’m sure he didn’t do it knowing your history with her.”
“You really only see the good in people, .” Drew chuckles, but falls silent again quickly. “I like that about you.”
“That’s because Ran really is good.”
“Okay, whatever you say,” Drew says and turns into a small parking lot.
I recognize the restaurant immediately. It’s that little Italian place Ronan took me to for lunch on his birthday, before we decided to “give this a shot,” before I officially became his and he mine. We came here to eat several times this past summer and the owner, Benito, always made it a point to stop by our table and chat with us or make us try his newest creations.
I smile, feeling more strongly connected to Ronan in this moment, like the universe just wanted to send me a quick wink, a “Hey, I know you were defending your guy just now, so here’s a little trace of him for you.”
“I love this place,” I say when I open the passenger door.
“Oh, you’ve eaten here before?” Drew asks in a tone that makes me think he’s a little disappointed this isn’t some new culinary experience for me.
“Yeah; Ran and I eat here a lot. He actually took me here on our first date.” I smile from what seems like ear to ear.
“Right,” Drew grumbles and holds the front door to the restaurant open for me.