Chapter 15 Collette
COLLETTE
My phone buzzes while I’m on the couch in my underwear, eating cereal out of the box because I had one too many glasses of champagne last night, and I no longer live with my brothers, so freedom is reigning supreme in my apartment.
Fish: Thanks for coming last night.
Collette: Congrats again. It was a great party. You should be proud.
Three dots appear. Disappear. Appear again.
Fish: Did you have fun?
Collette: I did.
Fish: Good. What about after? Saw you talking to one of the guys from the campaign.
Collette: Alton? He was a nice distraction for the night.
Fish: Just the night?
Collette: Are you fishing for something?
Fish: Clever and yes.
Collette: I went home alone, unlike you. I saw you leave with that model.
Fish: You did?
Collette: I’m surprised you are messaging me, thought you would be preoccupied.
Fish: She didn’t stay.
Collette: Her choice or yours?
Fish: It was mutual. What are you doing today?
Collette: Nothing. Currently eating cereal for lunch. What about you?
Fish: Gym, then chill out as we have a game tomorrow. What cereal?
Collette: Why does it matter?
Fish: You can tell a lot about a person by their cereal.
Collette: That’s not a real thing.
Fish: It absolutely is. Tell me.
Collette: Cinnamon Toast Crunch.
Fish: Okay, I respect that.
Collette: I didn’t ask for your approval.
Fish: You got it anyway. That’s a top-tier cereal.
Collette: What’s yours?
Fish: Frosted Flakes.
Collette: You eat Frosted Flakes. A professional athlete eats Frosted Flakes.
Fish: Tony the Tiger didn’t become an icon by being healthy.
Collette: You’re a child.
Fish: With milk or without?
Collette: Straight out of the box.
Fish: Collette St. Pierre. I am shocked. Eating dry cereal out of the box with her bare hands on a Saturday afternoon.
Collette: When you say it like that, it sounds bad.
Fish: It sounds unhinged.
Collette: Says the man who kisses his hockey stick before every game.
Fish: That’s a ritual!!!!
Collette: It’s weird.
Fish: It works. I score goals.
Collette: You also lost a shooting contest to a girl.
Fish: Because I didn’t kiss my stick.
Collette: Ew, that sounds dirty.
Fish: Get your mind out of the gutter.
Collette: You’re the one who said it.
Fish: Not to be dirty. You’re the one with a dirty mind.
Collette: That is true.
Fish: Hold on. Back that comment up a bit.
Collette: No. Okay, I’ve got to go.
Fish: Liar. You’re not going anywhere, you are eating cereal out of a box.
Collette: I can just stop responding to your texts.
Fish: True, but you won’t.
Collette: Cocky much?
Fish: Yes, and you know this already. So, tell me more about dirty Collette.
Collette: Get your mind out of the gutter.
Fish: You put it in there so spill.
Collette: I’m not telling you shit.
Fish: Please?
Collette: Fine. I’m bored. You’re entertainment. Don’t read into it.
Collette: What do you want to know?
Fish: Are you saying I can ask anything?
Collette: Yes, only if I’m allowed to.
My phone rings, and I look down to see Fish’s name.
“Why are you calling me?”
“My fingers were getting sore from typing.”
“Guess Reddit was wrong then, you don’t have magic fingers.” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I regret saying them.
Fish bursts out laughing. “My fingers work their magic when I want them to.”
“Guess they’re overworked from last night.” Again, I can’t believe what I am saying.
“Collette is spicy today.” He chuckles.
“I have a hangover,” I grumble.
“I like hungover Collette, there’s no filter.” He’s not wrong. “Anyway, you said I could ask you a question.”
“Yes.”
“First question is … have you been on a date since arriving in New York?” That is tamer than I thought it would be.
“Nope. I’m in a drought,” I confess as I shovel another handful of cereal into my mouth. This is probably why.
“Drought, as in you haven’t gotten laid?” he asks, not quite believing what he is hearing.
“Yes, we mere mortals don’t have people throwing themselves at us at all times of the day.”
“But you’re a hot woman,” he declares. “Shit, do you think your brothers heard me say that?”
I giggle. “Wouldn’t put it past them to have hacked my phone.”
“Okay, back this train up. You haven’t gotten laid in months since arriving.”
“Don’t you dare pity me, I have a great vibrator that does the trick.”
“I feel so bad for you,” he declares.
“Fuck you. I don’t want your pity. Now that I’m not living with my overbearing brothers, I can get laid,” I tell him.
“So why didn’t you take Alton home then?” he asks.
“Because he’s a Mavericks fan.”
“Oh,” he says.
“Yeah. It wouldn’t have been the first time a guy has slept with me to get close to my brothers or the team.”
“What the hell?” Fish says angrily. “What kind of low-life scum would do that to a woman?”
“It’s no different than a puck bunny sleeping with you for clout.”
Silence falls down the phone line for a couple of moments. “Yeah, but I know they are sleeping with me for clout, there’s a difference.”
“Don’t you get sick of sleeping with women who want the superficial things about you, and not the real you,” I ask him.
“I do.”
I still. I wasn’t expecting him to answer like that, I thought I was going to get some stupid answer. “Then why do you do it?”
“It’s stupid,” he says, suddenly not sounding like the cock sure hockey player he is.
“I’m sure it’s not, but if it’s personal, you don’t have to tell me,” I say.
He lets out a heavy sigh. “CliffsNotes version. My high school girlfriend cheated on me in college. I thought I was going to marry her. She married someone else.”
“Oh, Fish, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t pity me.”
“I’m not pitying you. I get it. My high school boyfriend did the same thing to me. I chose to be faithful to him in college, he did not.”
“He’s an idiot,” Fish adds.
“So is she,” I tell him. “But fuck them.” This makes Fish laugh. “Look at my brothers. Both had their hearts destroyed, and both found their person. Maybe there’s hope for us idiots, too.”
“Maybe,” he says quietly.
“I guess it’s just made me realize that I’ve been closing myself off because I don’t ever want to feel that hurt again,” I confess as tears well in my eyes. “Shit, I can’t believe I just told you all that.”
“No. I needed to hear it. I feel the same way,” he says. “Evan’s been psychoanalyzing me for years. He’s always said I choose bunnies because I know they won’t hurt me, and maybe he’s right,” he confesses. “I’d never tell him that he is, that’s between you and me.”
I laugh. “Secret’s safe.”
“Good. He would never let me live it down.”
“Well, why don’t we change that then,” I tell him excitedly.
“What do you mean?” he asks.
“Open ourselves up again. I’m turning thirty next year, and I feel like I should have my shit together by then. You’ve got a couple of years till you feel that.”
“I’m only twenty-eight,” he grumbles.
“You’re just a baby,” I tease him like the meme.
“Fuck you. Want me to come over and show you how much of a man I am, help break that drought,” he throws at me.
“Um …”
“Shit, sorry. I let the banter run away with me. That was inappropriate.” He backtracks quickly.
“To be fair, if I didn’t think it was a terrible idea, I would ask you to help. All those Reddit comments can’t be wrong.”
“Aw, Lettie, that is the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” he says, mocking me.
“Screw you.” I giggle.
“You wish, but it’s a terrible idea. Go have fun with your vibrator,” he teases.
“At least he’s never let me down, unlike so many men.” I sigh.
“Oh no, my dick can’t hear this. It’s like you’re sending up the bat signal for bad sex, and he feels like he needs to rescue you,” he jokes.
“Oh my god, you’re crazy,” I say, cracking up laughing. How the hell did we get here?
“Takes one to know one,” he bites back.
“Just so you know, this conversation never happened. I will deny its existence,” I warn him.
“And so will I,” he says in agreement.
“Well, maybe we should give this wing person thing a shot. You sucked last night, you promised me all these single guys.”
“There were heaps of single guys at the event. It’s not my fault you found the one super fan out of them all,” he argues. He’s not wrong, I guess.
“Fine. But look, maybe we need each other to find the right person for each of us,” I tell him.
“I guess, I’m game.”
“That’s the spirit,” I tell him enthusiastically. “I bet you’re regretting texting me now.”
“Kind of,” he grumbles.
“Boo hoo. Don’t you have to get going to the gym anyway?” I remind him.
“I do. And don’t you have a box of cereal to finish?” he adds.
“I do.” I shovel some more cereal into my mouth.
“You’re a loud chewer. Anyway, have a good day, I’ll see ya tomorrow at the game.”
“I’ll be there, annoying the shit out of you.”
“As you always do.” He chuckles as we say our goodbyes and hang up.
That was totally unexpected but made my day.
I hold up the mini mic. “Game day fit. Talk me through it.” Fish stops, adjusts his collar for the camera, and gives that grin. “New season, new look.” He starts listing everything he’s wearing by the brand he’s working for.
“Looking good, Big Fish!” Billie calls out from behind me. The girls erupt with laughter.
Fish stills. “What did she just call me?”
I watch his face, the confusion, the flicker of something underneath, and I think about yesterday, about the Reddit stuff, about the way his voice changed when he said he hated it.
About a man who told me his most intimate moments are rated by strangers on the internet, and how it makes him feel like he’s not a real person.
“Ignore them, come with me,” I say, grabbing his arm and pulling him down the corridor away from the girls.
“What’s going on?” he asks, letting me drag him. “Why did she call me that? What’s a Big Fish?”
I stop when we’re far enough away that no one can hear us. “You’re Big Fish,” I tell him as I pull out my phone, find the campaign photo of him in gray sweats, and hand it to him. “The athleisure photos from your campaign went live this morning.”