Chapter 26
As soon as Amber ends the FaceTime, I click on my mom’s name. It starts calling her as I place her on speaker and throw my notebook on my desk.
“Hey, Matty. My son, how are you?”
“I’m good, mom. How are you feeling about the date coming closer?”
I can hear her smile in her tone. “I’m excited.”
“That’s good, so I was calling because I have to warn you before the weekend. I promised my girlfriend I would, so I’m calling to tell you.”
“Okay. What is it?” she asks.
“Before I say anything, you have to promise not to freak out.”
She snickers. “Come on, Matt. We’re past that stuff. We’re both adults.”
“You’re right, but I need you to promise.”
“Okay,” she agrees. “I promise. Are you pregnant?”
“Mom, don’t start assuming things, please. I am about to tell you. Okay, so do you remember the girl that attacked me in high school?”
“Of course, I remember her. What about her?” Her tone is flat and annoyed. She’s not going to like what comes next.
“I’m bringing her this weekend.”
“That’s your girlfriend?” she asks. “Matthew.”
“I know what you’re thinking, but it’s far from what you’re thinking, mom. She’s great. We had a rough patch when we reconnected, but she apologized. I apologized–”
“What did you apologize for?” she scoffs. “Do you have any idea what this girl is about?”
I nod. “I provoked her, so I apologized for the mean things I said. It takes two to tango, mom. I wasn’t innocent even though you insisted I was, but we’re past that now. She’s coming this weekend, and I need you to be nice.”
“Nice? You expect me to be nice?”
“Yes. It’s in the past. I want to keep it there. She means a lot to me, mom.”
My mom is laughing, and I’m staring at my notebook.
Maybe Amber was right. There are seven billion people in the world, and why did I choose her to be my fake girlfriend for the weekend?
She’s the perfect distraction, I admit. Amber was right about our relationship summing up to competing and pranking.
And maybe I don’t know her as well as I should, but this weekend is going to change that.
“Matthew, you have so much to learn about life and love, but if that’s the kind of person you choose to be with, I have to warn you.
I’m not happy about what she did to you in high school, and you’re right, I’m not happy to hear that she’s your girlfriend.
Well, I guess that story’s for another day because I have to get off the phone in a minute.
Do you swear that she won’t start anything at my wedding? ”
“Mom, it happened like five years ago. You’re going to love her, I swear. But I need you to have fresh eyes. She’s good for me. You’ll see.”
“I hope so, Matt. I will see you this weekend. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
She hangs up the phone and I’m left staring at my desk. She never remembers about my hockey games, and it’s a shame that a big part of my life is easily forgotten by her. Whatever though, I exhale. Nothing new. Same shit, different day. So much for being a mommy’s boy.
Matt: I have a game tomorrow if you’re free
Amber: You broke our streak of simple texts.
Amber: (Screenshot)
Amber: I was enjoying that
Matt: I had to break it to invite you to my game tomorrow
Matt: I told my mom you’re my girlfriend. Everything’s good. She’s okay with it.
Amber: (Laughing emoji) There’s no fucking way she was okay with me being your girlfriend
Matt: She actually laughed, but she said if I’m happy then she’s happy
Amber: And are you happy?
Amber: In this fake relationship?
Matt: The happiest I’ve ever been, baby
Matt: Come to my game tomorrow
Amber: I can come to your game tomorrow, baby
Matt: I would love that
Amber: Okay
Matt: See you after the game, baby
Amber: (Laughing emoji)
Amber: I can come to your game, but I didn’t say anything about seeing you after
Amber: Pfft. As if
Matt: I know where you live
Amber: Stalker
I smile at her text as I push off the chair I’ve been glued to and get ready for bed.
The game is in full swing. 2-0. We’re fucking winning, thanks to me and Grey working like real brothers on the ice.
He should be counting his lucky stars I’m not stealing his shine because I may have hesitated ten minutes ago during the first period.
But that hesitation is what bought us the time to score.
Our defense is pushing hard tonight, so I feel the win is already in our pocket.
In third period, I’m fully invested in keeping our winning score.
But one wrong fucking move, too close to the opposing forward, and pain radiates through my cheek.
The warm liquid pools on my face. I tilt my head back, trying to race for the puck.
The guy tries to hit my face with the end of his hockey stick again.
Motherfucker! I skate ahead of him and drop my stick.
I pull off my helmet, feeling the blood drip down, as I make eye contact with him.
He chucks his stick and takes off his helmet, nodding his head at me.
The crowd roars. I’m already in his face with a good hold of his jersey, releasing my pent-up energy with every punch to his jaw.
Adrenaline is rushing through me. When he hits me back, the cut he gave me two seconds ago hurts like a fucking bitch.
The ref is already pulling us apart. Grey has his arms around me with all his strength.
“Come on! You’re fucking bleeding everywhere,” Grey says in my ear. “Come on!”
“Pearson!” Coach calls as I skate to exit the rink. “What the hell are you doing!”
I walk off, fucking off my helmet but taking my hockey stick to the locker room to get seen by the trainer. Meanwhile, the social media manager – I don’t know her name – is filming me walk off. I roll my eyes.
“Took a pretty hard hit out there. You might need stitches,” Browning says, handing me a towel.
I take it from him and press it against my cheek. “Might need stitches my ass. I need to get back out there, Browning.”
I follow him into the locker room.
“Let me get a better look.”
“I can’t get stitches, Brian. I have a wedding tomorrow.”
“A wedding?” he says, pointing at the bench so I take a seat.
“Yeah, this pretty face can’t have any stitches.”
He tilts my chin up to look at the gash. “Does it hurt?”
“Like a bitch.”
He nods. “It might bruise.”
“Like a black eye?” I ask, searching for the nearest mirror. “Can I get back out there?”
“If he goes after you again–”
“I’ll kick his fucking ass is what.”
“Pearson, you’re done tonight. You can watch from the sidelines.”
“Fuck it,” I say, irritated. That was all the permission I needed to remove my gear.
Meanwhile, Brian leaves to get supplies. The towel he handed me is soaked with my blood.
“Can you glue it?” I ask. “Much better idea.”
“Yeah,” Brian says, sitting next to me. “I think we can do that.” He starts working on the gash and says, “It’s been a while since we’ve done this. You’re getting better out there with fewer fights.”
“Yeah. Tunnel vision focus.”
“You and Grey are no longer at each other’s throats.”
“Yeah, that era is done.”
He presses the cut. “Okay, this is going to hurt. Try not to move.”
Adrenaline rushes through me. I can handle pain. Brian releases the gash, and puts something inside of it, causing it to burn like a fucking bitch. I sit still until Brian leans back and says, “Done. Now I need to clean you up.”
He takes a cotton swab with liquid on it and wipes my face, running it over the gash. They all fill with blood, so he has to do it a few times. He lifts my chin again. “If it doesn’t stop bleeding,” Brian begins.
I stand, walking over to a mirror. It’s dripping from the middle. “Bring that stuff you used.”
Brian walks over with it. I tilt my head back and say, “You won’t hurt me. Put more.”
Brian says, “I can’t put too much of this stuff.”
“My mom’s going to kill me if I have stitches on my face. Please try.”
Brian is reluctant but he does it anyway. I look in the mirror after he’s applied it and force it shut. It feels exactly like what he was doing earlier. But I hold it there longer.
“I think that should do it, Browning. Thank you. My mom thanks you.”
Brian grabs my shoulders. “Let’s bandage it. Then you can take some ibuprofen when you get home. Get good rest.”
The guys come strolling into the locker room shortly after Brian puts a Band-Aid on it.
Harvey sits next to me. “You all good?”
“Yeah,” I say as he stares. “All good.”
Crew walks past and says, “Did he glue it?”
“He wanted to give me stitches, but I have my mom’s wedding tomorrow.”
“Shit.” Harvey says, going to his locker. “That’s right.”
Dylan waltzes in with Ace. “Good game.”
Knox and Grey are behind them. They all briefly glance at me.
Ace walks up. “You kicked his ass out there.”
“Yeah, because look at what he did to my face.” I peel the bandage off to show the guys. They all look over and wince.
Ace taps my cheek, and I flinch.
“Fucker,” I spit as he laughs. I cover it back up. “What the fuck?”
Grey says, “You’re going to look good in those wedding photos.”
“Yeah, my mom will be ecstatic.”
Grey shrugs. “You kicked his ass. Jokes on him.”
I nod at Grey and grab my bag from my locker.
“Are you coming out tonight?” Harvey hollers.
I shake my head. “Not tonight. I’ll be gone all weekend.”
The guys say good night as I leave.
As soon as I enter my room, I dig through my drawer for my bottle of ibuprofen. I should have left sooner to take medicine because my cheek is fucking throbbing. I swallow the pills and lay in bed.
When I wake up, it’s because I rolled onto my cheek and it’s hurting like a motherfucker. I check the time on my phone and see I’ve missed a text from Amber.
Amber: I saw you get hit. Are you okay?
Hmm, she didn’t bother to text me more than that. That’s a first from a girl. Usually, it’s text after text. I like her style. Only one text to keep it simple.
It’s past midnight, but I write back anyway.
Matt: I’m good. Pick you up at 8
I swallow the medicine, drink water from my flask, and take a hot shower. When I look in the mirror, the bandage is soaked in blood. The gash is oozing blood, and my face is bruising. Shit. I switch out the bandage.
Dylan: (TikTok)
Dylan: Why is it so hot when hockey players fight
Dylan: I would let him fight like that for me
Matt: Find a new victim
I lay in bed, but this time I don’t fall asleep as easy.
By the time my alarm clock goes off, I’ve barely had any shut-eye time.
I drag myself out of bed and grab the bag I packed a few days ago for the weekend.
And I don’t forget to pack a bottle of ibuprofen and my emergency kit that has a few bandages.
One must always be prepared as a hockey player.
I grab my iPad, my phone charger, my toothbrush, and my deodorant.
I think that’s it. I change out the bandage again, noticing that it’s still bleeding bright red. It’s sensitive too.
Matt: I’m heading over to your house now
Amber: Ok
When I pull up to Amber’s house a little before 8 AM, I text to let her know I’m outside. I scroll on my phone, watching the guy’s posts from last night. It looks like they had a good time celebrating our win.
The passenger door opens. “Hi,” Amber says, meeting my eyes. And then she glances at my cheek. Seeing her face this morning is what I needed. I finally relax.
“Hi,” I say as she gets in. She puts her bag in the backseat and leans in.
“That looks…big. Can I tap it?” she asks.
I tilt my chin up to look at her.
“I’m just kidding,” she says, sitting in her seat and putting on her seatbelt. “It’s a good thing you can take a hit.”
“Are you ready?” I ask, enjoying her teasing.
She nods, looking into my eyes. “Ready.”
“So, you came to the game last night?” I ask, pulling away from her house and onto the street.
“Mhm,” she hums. “It was good until I started cheering you on to kick that guy’s ass.”
“You saw that,” I state as I focus on driving. I need to get on the freeway from here and then it’s an hour away. It could be longer with Saturday traffic.
“Do you have beef with him?” she asks.
“Yeah, he hit my face with his stick.”
“Is that why you play hockey? I was surprised to see you throw down like that. I mean…you kicked his ass.”
I glance over at her with a knowing expression. Of course, that’s why I play hockey. That and other things. “Did I look good doing it?”
“Yeah, kind of hot,” she presses her lips together. “No, but it was also kind of liberating. It made me feel better for what I did to you back in the day.”
I shake my head and ask, “So, did you enjoy the game?”
She shrugs. “I’m pretty sure the Honey Badgers won.”
I laugh. “Yeah, we won. Did you see my score?”
“Oh. That was you?”
“Come on, Hughes. Of course, it was me.”
She rolls her eyes at my arrogance, but I smirk. I don’t think I would mind being with someone who knows nothing about hockey. But it was one of the reasons I was attracted to Maddie. She knew pretty much everything there is to know, but I don’t care about that with Amber. It doesn’t matter.
“Do you want me to explain it to you?” I ask sarcastically.
Her brows furrow. “Not really–”
“I hold a thing called a hockey stick, and I use that to slide the puck into the net. The puck is that black thing we’re passing around.”
“Okay,” she scoffs, rolling her eyes.
I look over my shoulder at the traffic while I merge. Finally on a straight road to our destination. I say, “I’m just kidding. It’s cool you know nothing about hockey.”
She smiles widely while shaking her head. “You hate it.”
I smile. “No, I don’t, but I think my girlfriend should at least know what position I play.”
“What position is that, Matt?”
“Center, but when Grey plays that position because we play the same position, I play left wing.”
She opens her mouth to say something and then doesn’t.
“You have no idea what that means,” I state by the look on her face.
She shrugs, but she’s so beautiful with that unknowing face that I don’t care.
She finally says, “And please don’t call me your girlfriend.”
I glance over at her and give her the face of I can call you whatever I want. “You’re my girl for the weekend.”
“I’m serious,” I say, leaving my hand on the center counsel to make her nervous. “It starts now. I know a diner that’s about fifteen minutes away. Are you hungry?”
She nods. “Yeah. I could go for a bite.”
“My treat,” I say.
As I look over at her, she’s scowling at me.