Chapter 30
JAYDEN
It’s the last few minutes of play in the third period and we’re down one goal.
Frosty starts to head for the bench for the extra attacker, but then backs up when Calgary gets possession of the puck again.
Bo is on the guy and manages to knock the puck off his stick for Sammy to scoop up.
Sammy pivots and heads toward the Calgary net.
Frosty starts to leave the net again, but hesitates as a Calgary player keeps Sammy on the outside and another guy jumps in to check him.
I’m on the bench watching this, ready to jump on.
Frosty’s still hovering near his net, unsure of whether to go to the bench.
The puck is coming back to our end. Frosty can’t leave now. But we need to get the extra player on to try to tie this up.
Calgary has the puck. The player shoots from the point and Frosty makes the save, thank fuck, giving us a miniscule chance. Bish gets the rebound but instead of heading up the ice, he turns back with it.
“What are you doing?” I shout from the bench.
“Go to the fuckin’ bench!” Bish yells at Frosty, pausing behind the net.
“Fuck you!” Frosty yells.
Bish yells again and gestures to the bench, and when Frosty still doesn’t move, he whacks his stick on top of the net.
“Jesus,” I mutter.
Finally, Bish carries the puck up the ice, passing it to…
not Sammy, as per usual, but to Bo, his left winger.
Frosty’s at the bench now, and LG jumps on the ice and sprints toward the net.
Moose and Rocky come off and Cammy and I hop over the boards to replace them.
I plant myself on the blue line. We’ve got control of the puck.
We cycle the puck a few times now with the extra man, and… the horn sounds, ending the game.
“Fuck!” I shake my head. Another fucking loss. It felt close, though, especially in this last period.
Frosty disappears down the tunnel. We all follow him, wasting no time getting off the ice. In the room, Frosty tosses his stick down and stomps over to his cubby. He looks around and spots Bish. “What the fuck, man?” he shouts. “What the fuck was that?”
“Why didn’t you go off?” Bish demands. “We had ninety seconds left! I had the fucking puck!”
“Don’t fucking tell me how to play my game!” Frosty yells back. “As if you have room to talk. What the fuck was that turnover right in front of me? Jesus Christ.”
The air in the room is blue from their cursing. Also thick and uncomfortable.
“Shut up, guys,” I say. “That’s not helping.”
“Yeah?” Bish glares at me. “What do you think is gonna help, then? Tell us.”
I glare back at him. “Get a grip, man.” Probably not the right thing to say. I take a breath. “Emotions are high right now. Let’s all go home and cool off and talk about this tomorrow.”
The other guys all nod and mumble agreement. Bish undresses with violent movements, practically hurling his gear at the equipment guys.
“Hey,” I say to him with a jerk of my chin. “They don’t deserve to have you taking your temper out on them.”
Bish’s face is red and set. But he calms down a little.
I can’t stand this. I shower in a hurry and get dressed to leave. Maybe I should have kept my mouth shut. Maybe I made things worse. Bish is probably pissed at me now. That’s all we need is him feuding with two players.
Something has to happen. I’m going to have to talk to Bish. Or to Coach. Or maybe we all do. I don’t know. This sucks.
“Coach is pissed,” LG says to me on our way out.
“At who?” I grimace. “Probably all of us.”
“I think Bish is in for some heat.”
“Good.” I shake my head. Maybe I won’t have to go to Coach after all. I really don’t want to. I don’t want to be labeled a “problem” like what happened in junior hockey. Except… there’ve been other things I’ve kept quiet about since then, and I’ve always beat myself up about not saying anything.
The culture of hockey, part of the “code,” is to fit in, get along, don’t stand out. I paid a price for not doing that years ago and since then, I’ve tried to follow the code. But maybe there are times you just have to stand up.
Fuck.
I was in a shitty enough mood before this after what happened last night with Stella. Also, my foot still hurts.
“Want to get a beer?” I ask my buddy.
He slants me a quizzical look. “Sure.”
“Let’s get away from this area. How about Ziggy’s?” I name a place in Gastown not far from here.
We drive there separately. The place is a dark dive bar with worn floors and wooden picnic tables and benches to sit on. On a Sunday night, it’s not too busy so we find a table at the back and order a couple of draft beers.
“You want to talk about the game?” LG shakes his head. “Tabernak.”
“I’m sick of talking about it. What the fuck.” I rest my head in my hand.
“It’s not easy being on a losing team. But there are good things that can come of it. It builds confidence, and creates a stronger connection with our teammates.”
He says it with a straight face and I stare at him for about three second before we both crack up laughing.
“What bullshit,” I say.
“I understand. It’s hard when our teammates don’t give a shit.”
“Yeah. Like why should I block a shot and risk getting injured when no one else cares enough to even try?”
“I know. We can only control ourselves, though. We need to focus on improving ourselves. Making ourselves better.”
“That’s exactly what I’m trying to do.” Right now, it feels hopeless.
“You never know. Right around the corner could be a big upswing. A big break. A new opportunity.”
I eye him suspiciously. “Who sugar-coated your cornflakes with unicorn piss this morning?”
He laughs. “Me. I’m trying to work on being more positive. I’m the leader of this team.” He grimaces. “I fucking hate it when guys are yelling and bitching at each other.”
“Positive is good,” I acknowledge. I gulp down some draft. “I have to tell you about this guy at the wedding. He asked me what was going on with Sammy and Bish. He said there are rumours that they’re feuding over a woman.”
LG’s eyes fly open. “What?”
“Yeah. Crazy, right?”
He rolls his eyes. “People will gossip about anything.” He pauses. “Do you think that’s what it is?”
“No. Fuck. I don’t know. Bish is with a different woman every week.
I don’t think Sammy dates much, though. So I don’t think so.
But after that reporter asked about it, and then this guy…
I don’t go on social media much, but I have the feeling the whole city is talking about it. And probably making shit up.”
“I’ve been thinking about this. I’ve been thinking we should have a players-only meeting.”
My eyes widen. “Yeah?”
He nods. “We need to figure out what is going on.”
I nod slowly. “Yeah. I don’t know if everyone will be comfortable talking about it.”
“Then let’s talk about why we’re not comfortable. You said something that made me think about this. About how we have to be honest with each other, and things will never change if we don’t talk about this crap.”
“Right. Okay. Do it. I’ve got your back.”
“Thanks.” He takes a long swig of his beer. “So. Is that what you wanted to talk about? What’s happening with Sammy and Bish?”
“No.” I drop my gaze.
“What’s up?”
“Stella.”
LG purses his lips. “Uh oh.”
“My sister told me. Fuck.” I rub my face.
“She told you… what?”
“She said if Stella didn’t want anything serious, I should break up with her. She said I’d get hurt if I ended up catching feelings. I figured I could handle it. I guess I thought… maybe… Stella would catch feelings, too. But…”
LG waits.
“Last night, we kind of…” I don’t know what that was.
“Fought? Argued? Fucked?”
“All of the above? It wasn’t really fighting. I told her…” I stiffen my spine. “I’m catching feelings and she was all, don’t do that. She doesn’t believe in love and a wedding is basically a funeral for two.”
“Harsh.”
“But she was crying happy tears because her brother was getting married. I told her I think she’s really a romantic deep down inside. But I guess the pathetic romantic is me.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah. That whole wedding got me thinking stupid thoughts. About love and marriage and forever. Fuck.” I drop my head forward. “I was all moved by her tears. Verklempt from the music. Sappy about the happiness of the bride and groom, who I don’t even know.”
“Yeah, weddings will do that to you.”
“You want to get married someday, right?”
He shrugs. “Sure. I guess.”
“Me too. I figured one day, it would be me up there saying vows to someone. And… lately I’ve been thinking it might be Stella.” To be honest, “might be” isn’t accurate. I’ve been thinking… I want it to be her. “And then she told me marriage is for suckers.”
“That’s cold.”
“I know. I mean, she’s been clear that she doesn’t need a man. But I didn’t know she doesn’t even believe in love. Except she told me she loved Colin Fuckface.”
“Uh… this is an ex?”
“Yeah. She fell out of love with him because he needed a mother, not a girlfriend.”
“Esti!”
I don’t know exactly what that means but I know it’s a swear. “Right? What a dickhead.”
“Her parents have been married five times between them. I guess it’s understandable that she’d think love doesn’t last.”
“Truth.”
“It’s not as if I proposed to her. I was just telling her how I feel.” I blow out a breath.
“You two have only known each other a couple of months.”
“True.”
“Maybe that’s just too fast for her.”
I cock my head. “Huh. Could be.” I pause. “Did I fuck everything up by telling her that too soon?”
“I don’t know, man.” LG sips his beer. “What did she say? She doesn’t want to see you anymore?”
“No. She does. She just doesn’t want it to be serious.”
“Hmmm.”
“I don’t know what to do about this.”
“You want advice from me? Let her go. There are lots of women out there.”
I stare at him. The idea of never seeing her again feels like a dagger twisting in my gut. Anguish squeezes my lung. Fuck yeah. I’m falling for her. The idea of her seeing someone else, maybe falling in love with someone else, makes my insides burn like hot coals.
“I don’t want any other women.”
“Then don’t let her go. Fight for her.”
I snort out a laugh. “You’re a big help. Didn’t you learn that no means no?”
“Did she tell you no? Did she tell you to go away and never come back?”
“No…” He has a point. “I talked to my sister about that, too, how Stella’s so independent and self-sufficient.
Sometimes, I felt I was a third wheel… like she had someone or something else I was competing with for her attention.
But it wasn’t someone, it was just her life.
Her orchids. Her dog. Her…” I pause. “Her friends. Alanna told me Stella wasn’t going to give up her great life for someone who doesn’t make her life better.
And I was all, how do I compete with that? You know?”
“Yeah.” He nods.
“But I decided I couldn’t. I didn’t want to compete.”
LG looks at me as though I just told him I want to strip naked and sing karaoke up on the small stage. “Are you okay?”
“I thought I was being clear that I am not okay.”
“I’ve never heard you say you don’t want to compete for something.”
I sigh. “I know. But a competition implies a winner and a loser. I want us both to win. I want her to want me, too.”
“Ahhh. Okay, let’s think. Let’s be logical. She says she doesn’t believe in love or marriage. But yet she wants to keep seeing you.”
“Right.”
“Why is that?”
“Why does she want to keep seeing me? I’m not that repulsive.”
He laughs. “That’s not what I meant. Why does she want to keep seeing you but she says she doesn’t believe in love or marriage?”
“She’s using me for my hot body.”
He rolls his eyes.
“This is making my head hurt. Okay. Like I said, her parents aren’t a good example of marital longevity.”
“I don’t know… you say you want her to want you, too. It seems like she does. Otherwise she would have ended things.”
Another solid point. “So you think I should keep seeing her.”
“I can’t tell you what to do.”
“Oh for fuck’s sake.”
He grins. “Think about it.”
When I get home and Frank greets me ecstatically then stares at me with his anxious, depressed little face, I say, “I think I fucked things up with our girls.”
He tilts his head.
I reach out and rub it. “Sorry, little man.”
His head tilts the other way.
“You want to see her again, don’t you? You want to see Betty.”
Another head tilt.
“Betty?”
Tilt.
“I wish you could tell me what to do, buddy. LG won’t tell me what to do.” I blow out a breath. “I guess it’s up to me.”
Of course it’s up to me.
I think more about what LG and I talked about.
His statement that Stella was trying to say she didn’t want a serious relationship, but yet she didn’t want to end things with me.
And I remember something else she said that night she told me about that fucking parasitic shithead she was with: how it felt good to be loved.
After feeling abandoned and alone as a kid, finally finding that feeling of love and belonging and connection… it felt good to be loved.
She does want love. She does care about me. I know it. Maybe I can’t compete with her bubble baths, her orchids, and her vibrator. I don’t want to compete with those things. She can have all those things. But she can have love, too.
I’m not giving up.