Phil
Fuck, Kelly would never stop surprising me.
She was impulsive, but she usually had good judgment. Sure, it was tempting to think about us being together at university. There was nobody I’d rather talk to or hang out with. Sleeping together regularly, like we had at Whistler, would be incredible. Our relationship was for real. I loved her—that was it—plain and simple.
But what felt good right now might not be the best thing for the future. Kelly followed her instincts, but that didn’t make her right.
If she did go to U.B.C., it wouldn’t be a total disaster. It was a good school, we’d know tons of people, and we’d be together. She’d make the women’s hockey team, no problem. However, the hockey wouldn’t be as good as McGill. If she went to Montreal, she’d get better coaching, better teammates, and a chance. A chance to win games. A chance to win championships. Maybe even a chance to get noticed by Team Canada?
She probably wasn’t good enough, and I was pretty sure she knew that too, but she still dreamed about it. While most girls had posters of Zac Efron or Adam Brody, Kelly had the women’s national hockey team on her wall.
She had confessed that this season had been a revelation for her.
“It’s fun to win a lot of games, to know that when you go on the ice, you’re the good team that everyone is gunning for. I like that. And playing with the Avalanche—getting to be one of the top players instead of only a good player, it’s great. I’ve always been a team player, but being the person that can make a difference, or even be the game-changer, has been huge for me. I guess you’re used to it, because you were always the best player.”
Yeah, but being good wasn’t a big deal to me, because I didn’t love hockey the way Kelly did. A few guys I knew had been drafted, but nobody around here was a first round NHL draft choice. That only happened once in a decade. A hockey career was a crapshoot, even for really talented guys, and it had no payoff at all for girls.
Kelly was different. Inside she was younger than everyone else and full of innocent optimism. If she gave up on all her dreams, would she change? Would she regret going out with me, because she missed out on her opportunity? Maybe she wouldn’t make Team Canada, but she could win a university championship at McGill. And once in a while, dreams did come true—one guy from our school got taken in the last round of the draft and still made it to the NHL.
I loved her and wanted to protect her. Kelly always hated when I did that during games, but if I didn’t watch out for her, she could get hurt.
Back in Bantam, she had gotten badly injured after a big hit. I could never forget how shitty it was seeing her lying helpless out on the ice. When I had skated over, her eyes were closed and she was making this weird whimpering sound. I pleaded with her, “Get up, Kelly. C’mon, get up!”
She had looked up at me, her brown eyes filling with tears, and said in this little voice, “I’m trying, Phil, but I can’t. It hurts too much.” They had to get a stretcher and an ambulance and everything. The game was called because it took so long, but I couldn’t have played again anyway. I felt like throwing up. I should have protected her. Afterwards, I waited around her house until she came home. I wanted to say sorry, but Kelly jumped out of the car and ran up to me.
“Look, Phil, I got a cast!” She held out her arm. “They let me choose the colour, so I got yellow. Nice, eh? Do you want to be the first one to sign it?”
She smiled at me and I felt so much better. Kelly didn’t blame me of course, nobody did. But I blamed myself.
After that, keeping an eye out for her stopped shit from escalating. And now, I had to keep an eye out for her too. To stop her from doing something dumb that she would regret later. And she was so stubborn, I’d have to do it in a definitive way.
Kelly was the only girl I felt completely relaxed with. She never played stupid head games or tried to change me. I never had to watch my words or actions, or be anything except myself. I could see us being together for a long time. But not right now.
She was probably nervous about going to McGill. Kelly was up for any physical challenge, but she wasn’t big on change. She liked her routine, like running the same route every morning. And Kelly was loyal to a fault. She had stuffed toys from when she was a kid. She was still best friends with April, even though they had grown in completely different directions. And she had refused to break up with Nicklas when it was clear he was not the right guy for her. If we went to the same school, it was tough to imagine what would break us up.
But it was bullshit to pretend that all my concern was for her. To be honest, I panicked as soon as Kelly told me she was staying. As good as things were, it was too soon. The longer we went out, the more pressure and ridiculous assumptions were made about us, and that bothered me. Kelly wasn’t like that; she never seemed to expect anything but a good time. But everyone, from my mother to our friends, had a lot of expectations.
Kelly and I had already agreed on everything. We’d split up now, and it wouldn’t be anyone’s fault and we would stay on good terms. No bullshit guilt or blame. And then, after we both had time to do our own thing, we could check back in. We could even get back together in the summers.
We were way too young to get tied down. I had been looking forward to having fun at university, the kind of stupid fun you didn’t have when you had a girlfriend.
But if she stayed here, there was no way it could end well. It wasn’t like I wanted to break up with her, but going out for the next four years straight was downright scary. Sure, it would be sweet in a lot of ways, but my gut reaction was that it was wrong.
So, for Kelly—and for me—I’d have to figure out a way to get her to go to McGill.
In the morning, I went over and waited on her front steps for her to get back from her run. I saw her coming up the road. She slowed to a jog and stopped at the end of her driveway. She wore a yellow singlet and black shorts, and there was a sheen of sweat on her arms and shoulders. She rested her hands on her hips, then she tilted her head up towards the light—like a sunflower.
When Kelly opened her eyes, she saw me sitting on her front step. She broke into a huge smile and I grinned back. For a moment, I wanted to forget my whole mission. We could be together now, stay together at U.B.C., and I’d never have to worry about seeing her with another guy.
“Phil! I didn’t know you got up this early when you weren’t working. Oh wait, you are working today, aren’t you?”
She ran up to me, huffing a little from the exertion of her run. “Do you want a sweaty hug and kiss?” She hugged me without waiting for an answer.
“You’re a yucky mess,” I told her, pretending to fend her off, but grabbing her arms and pulling her closer. We kissed, and I let my mouth linger on hers, tasting the salty sweat and feeling the warm softness of her lips. “I love you, Kel.”
“I love you too.” Her familiar scent made me reconsider once more. I was going to miss her so much. She pulled back and brushed at the sweat stain she had left on my t-shirt. “Sorry. So, why are you here? Not that I mind. You want to have breakfast? My mom made her yummy granola. I’ll have to shower first though.”
She grabbed the hand towel she had left on the step, and dried off her face and the back of her neck. We went and sat down on the bench in their front garden while she cooled down.
I swallowed. It was show time. “I wanted to talk to you about McGill. I think you should go there.”
Her face took on a familiar obstinate expression.
“Phil, it’s not up to you. You’re not the boss of me. I want to stay here. Don’t worry, it’s not all about us. I want to see my other friends too, like April and Charmaine. And it’s less money.”
“It better not be about me,” I told her. “Because I’m not going to be here. I’ve decided to go to Calgary.”
“Calgary? What are you talking about? You said you didn’t want to do that, you said your dad was pushing you, you said it wasn’t as good a school. You said….” Her voice trailed off, and she frowned at me in bewilderment.
“I had another talk with my dad. He thinks that having a big scholarship on my résumé would help me get a job when I graduate, even if it’s Vancouver. And he sweetened the deal by offering me a car to use in Calgary or when I drive home. It’s late, but since his best friend is the dean, there’s no problem slotting me in.”
Kelly didn’t reply. She kept staring at me, stunned. I continued, “I think it’ll be fun—an adventure to get away from Vancouver. That’s why you should do it too.” Her expression began to shift—her eyes wide and liquid and her mouth turning down at the corners. I felt so shitty for bringing her down, but once she got her head around the idea of going to McGill, everything would be okay.
There was a long silence as Kelly twisted the towel in her hands, torturing it into a pleated snake. Finally, in a tiny voice, she asked, “What about us?”
“We’ll still keep in touch. We can talk and see each other at Christmas, Reading Week, and in the summer—like we planned before. It’ll be fine.” I reached for her hand, but she pulled it away. She abruptly ducked her head, and I couldn’t see her face. She wasn’t crying, was she? Kelly wouldn’t react like that, she was always so cool and reasonable—but I had clearly underestimated how much she cared. I was an idiot. I needed to explain things better, to make her understand it wasn’t the end for us—it was only a transition.
She shook herself and then straightened her back. Her eyes narrowed and her voice was firm. “I get what you’re doing here. You decided to go to Calgary as soon as I said I wanted to stay. Commitment sucks, right? You always run a mile whenever your girlfriends pressure you. I guess our relationship had a built-in ending—when I went away to school. So you could relax and not worry. Sorry I tried to screw that up.”
“No, Kel, that’s not true at all. We are different—you’re the only one I’ve ever loved. I just think this is the best thing for the both of us.”
How much should I tell her about my plans? I didn’t want to lose sight of the real objective, which was to get her to go to McGill and have her chance. She hated feeling manipulated, so telling her the whole truth might completely screw things up. But seeing her sadness, pain, and now anger was so fucked.
“Don’t, Phil. Shut the fuck up. I can’t believe I fell for your bullshit. I knew exactly what you were like! I never told you how I felt because I was afraid you’d end us and I didn’t want that. When we were in Whistler, and you said you—” She paused, unable to get the word love out. “Then I relaxed and let myself feel everything. Big mistake. Well, thank you, asshole. It wouldn’t be the full Phil Davidson experience without getting dumped out of nowhere.”
She tossed her ponytail and stood up. I reached for her, but she backed away.
I tried desperately to explain everything. “Kel, it’s not like that. I do love you. I want us to be together. I can’t imagine being with anyone else. But it’s better if we split up in the meantime, to pursue our dreams. You can play hockey at McGill, like you really want to. Then you can move back to Vancouver again, and it’ll be us again. As sweet as it is right now, but for real.”
She smiled at me, and for a moment I thought everything was okay. But her smile was fake, all brittle and tight.
“Yeah, this is the other part I wondered about, how you got them to be such saps afterwards, to keep hoping to get back with you. You’re even slicker than I could have ever imagined. But you’re right—I am different. I’m not listening to your stupid lies anymore. In fact, if you come one step closer, I’ll kick you in the nads!”
Knowing exactly how capable of that she was, I backed off. She turned and ran into the house.
I had fucked that up majorly, but I wasn’t sure what to do now. The only thing I was sure of was that I couldn’t go on with her hating me like this. I’d give her a little time to cool off and then tell her the whole truth. I shouldn’t have tried to manipulate things. I’d look like an idiot undoing all the Calgary stuff my dad had happily put into motion this morning, but I’d do it. If she still wanted to go to U.B.C. once I’d explained why I thought she should go to McGill, so be it. All I knew was how much I had hurt her, and how much I wanted to undo all that. Meantime, I had to get to work.
Not surprisingly, she wouldn’t talk to me on the phone all day, but after work I went straight to her house. I’d camp out on her doorstep if necessary. When I rang the doorbell, Molly answered.
“Oh hello, Phil,” she said in a slightly stiff voice. Obviously Kelly had told her we had broken up.
“Hey, Molly. I’m sorry to disturb you, but I really have to talk to Kelly. She totally misunderstood what I was saying this morning, and we need to straighten things out.”
Molly broke into a wide smile. “That’s what I told her! That it must be a mix up, and she shouldn’t fly off the handle. But you know Kelly.”
I nodded and waited for her to invite me in.
Her mom sighed. “Sometimes Kelly has too much energy and not enough common sense.”
“What do you mean?”
“She’s gone—gone to Abbotsford. One of her teammates is from there, and she’s driving to Montreal and had offered Kelly a ride a while ago. Originally, Kelly wanted to stay home as long as possible. But today she decided she would go, and the whole day was a whirlwind of packing and phone calls. Tak drove her out to Abbotsford.”
Molly looked at her watch. “They should be there by now, and then she’s leaving early in the morning.”
“Can you give me the address?” If she wasn’t leaving right away, I could still get there and talk to her. Abbotsford was only an hour and a half away. She couldn’t leave with things messed up between us.
Molly shook her head. “I’m really sorry, Phil. She doesn’t want you to know where she is.” She let out a puff of air. “In fact, she wouldn’t even tell me the address. She said I’m the weakest link around here.”
I could wait around for her dad, but I was pretty sure he wouldn’t tell me anything either. I wanted to kick myself for screwing this up so badly. I guess I could be happy that she was going to McGill, at least. But I felt unbelievably shitty. Now I’d have to wait until she got to Montreal to get in touch with her, and I didn’t even know exactly how I was going to do that.
“Molly, she was talking about getting a cellphone before she got to school, Did she?”
“No, she’s getting one in Montreal, so I don’t have a number for her yet.” She lowered her voice, “As soon as I hear from her, I’ll tell her you were here and how much you want to talk to her. I’m sure she’ll call you right away.”
Yeah, unless she spent all her time between now and then hardening her heart against me. Crap, how could the world be so technologically connected when I wasn’t able to talk to the one person I loved most for a week? But I was sure it would be okay. Kelly and I were really connected, and you couldn’t break a connection like that in a few days.