“So, explain to me once more why you’re not actually going to the game?” April demanded as we walked down to the Raven to watch the game.
“He has to focus on the games,” I explained. “So right now, he can’t have a social life.”
April’s expression was skeptical. “I guess he’s not allowed to see his family or teammates either then?”
“No, of course not. It’s just me.” And she was getting too close to why I had been pissed off when Jimmy had told me. It was like one minute, I was so important to him because of my superior hockey understanding, and the next minute I was a distraction.
She made a derisive snort. “Sex. That’s the real problem, right?”
“Actually, they’ve done research that proves that sex the night before a game has no effect on athletic performance.”
“How about sex right before a game?” April snickered. “And did you quote that research to him? Because if that’s true, you guys could still be screwing your brains out.”
“April!”
“What? You know you want it. That’s probably why you’re so cranky, because someone took your boy toy away.”
“It’s not Jimmy’s decision, it’s his coach’s. No sex before a game is old-school and bad science, but lots of things in hockey are like that. The morning skate for example—”
April held up a hand. “I’m going to watch the game with you, and that’s all the hockey I can take for one night. In any case, a boyfriend who turfed me because someone told him to would not be my boyfriend for long.”
And that was the real issue. When you dated someone like Jimmy, who was so important to Team Canada, you had to swallow your normal reactions. I couldn’t argue about this whole issue because he’d end up getting upset and distracted. And besides, there was no argument when your coach wanted you to do something, as long as it wasn’t unethical or immoral. I understood that. Yet I also understood April’s position, as a girlfriend it was upsetting to be told you were a distraction. It was doubly upsetting for us because we had so little time together. Long distance sucked.
The Raven was the local pub. It suited our purposes tonight since it had big TVs and we could drink and walk home. We sat at the bar, and the bartender came over. He was Ben Cho, a good friend of Phil’s from swim club. I introduced him to April.
“What are you two lovely ladies doing at a dive like this?”
April pointed her finger. “She’s here to watch the game, and I’m here to keep her from looking like a desperate hockey fan.”
“I’m surprised you’re not at Phil’s place. I think he’s having some friends over, and he has that big 40-inch TV.”
“Not tonight,” I replied. Phil did have a nice TV with surround sound. He had invited our whole tournament team over, but I had decided that going there would be too awkward, since I didn’t want to have to explain everything to everyone.
Things were getting off to a slow start. There was a lot of end-to-end action, but surprisingly little scoring for a junior game. A bit of a goalie duel. It felt weird to see Jimmy up on the screen, and they zoomed in on him a lot when he was taking the face-offs. April was busy talking to Ben and seemed to be having fun. The first period ended with no score.
Five minutes later, the door blew open, and Phil walked in.
“Oh hey, Phil.” I started getting my lies in order.
Phil nodded at Ben. “Thanks, man.” Had he called Phil to tell him we were here?
“April, Kelly,” Phil began. “I hear you’re taking up valuable bar real estate and not drinking much.”
I made a face at Ben, and he gave me a palm up.
“We’re watching the game,” I said. When in doubt, stick to a limited version of the truth.
“And is there some reason you’re not actually at the game?”
“Well, it’s complicated.” That was true too.
“Ahh, that explains everything. I guess Captain Wonderful didn’t come through with tickets.”
I didn’t even deign to answer that remark, so Phil continued. “Do you think you might find it more comfortable watching the game at my place? Some of the team is there, and… we’ve got snacks,” he finished lamely.
“Snacks?” I asked, “Like those almond cookies your mom makes?”
“Pfeffernuesse? Yes, dozens. Unless I left them next to Dillon.”
“Chips? BBQ chips?” I continued.
“Actually that’s why I came out, to pick up more BBQ chips.”
“Well, we might be persuaded to come over, right, April?”
She was in some sort of Matrix eye lock with Ben. “Hmmm, I’m liking the scenery here quite a bit.”
“Don’t worry; Cho’s coming over after his shift. I’ve already made that deal,” said Phil.
So off we went to the place where I had watched hockey games for years.
Phil
<Hey PD, Kelly Tanaka is at the Raven>
The text came from Ben Cho when I was already feeling Kelly’s absence. We were watching the semi-finals of the World Juniors and celebrating our victory at the Christmas reunion tourney with a little get-together. Last night, Kelly and I had combined for a pretty sweet goal in the third that helped cement the win. My rec room was already full of our old hockey teammates and a couple of their girlfriends. I wasn’t the only one who was thinking about Kelly.
“Where’s Kelly?” asked Marcus. “She’s going to miss the whole first period if she doesn’t get here soon.”
“Haven’t you heard?” asked Lisa, who was going out with our goalie Derek. “She’s dating the captain of Team Canada and going to all the games in person.” Girls always knew these things; they must be psychically connected.
Most of the guys were surprised to hear this and also shot glances at me to see how I was taking the news.
I shrugged. “Yeah, she took me to the game on Sunday, and I met him. No big deal.”
“No big deal? Frechette was a first round pick. He’s probably going straight to the NHL next year. How did Kelly meet him anyway?” Marcus always barged in where normal people with an ounce of tact wouldn’t go.
“At a hockey camp.” How fucking wonderful it was to have to explain stuff I tried not to think about at all. That’s why I was happy to have to pick up Ben’s text message and leave the room.
Ben Cho was a good friend of mine. He was a year older, and we had met in swim club and bonded because his mother was even more intense than mine. Ben lived nearby in a big house on the waterfront, but hardly anybody around here knew him because he had gone to a private school in Vancouver. Ben had met Kelly while we were dating. He was an interesting guy and more sensitive than most of my friends, and that’s probably why he texted me about Kelly. I called him right back.
“Hey, Phil. I can’t talk long ’cause I’m at work.”
“Okay. Kelly’s there?”
“Yeah, she’s watching the game here, with her friend April.”
“Weird, did she say why she’s not at the game?”
“No, no idea. But she’s actually watching the game, she’s not here to socialize or anything.”
“Okay, I’ll come by and see if she wants to come over here instead. Thanks for calling, man.”
“Uh Phil…”
“Yeah?”
“If April goes, I wouldn’t mind dropping by too.”
I laughed. Poor Cho, April Lachance was a heart-breaker crossed with a ball-buster. But I was sure the ride was fun while it lasted, and who was I to deny him his opportunity?
“No probs, Cho. Come over after work.”
I knew Kelly wouldn’t move during the game, so I left just before the first period ended and pulled up in front of the Raven. She wouldn’t explain why she wasn’t at the game, but she looked upset. Was there any chance they had broken up? But would she still be watching the game then? I got a sense it was more complicated than that and also that this whole thing wasn’t Kelly’s idea. She and April agreed to come over though, and that was a big step in the right direction.
What the fuck was it about Kelly that turned me into such a moron? Never in my life had I pursued an ex once she found someone new, but Kelly was different for me. I had a sense we were meant to be together, that it was the way the universe should unfold. I had spilled my guts to her, and she never said a word. Okay, so she had a new boyfriend, but still she could have called me and said something, anything. He certainly hadn’t been that impressive when I met him, he seemed young and immature. And now something had gone wrong. If he didn’t get how fucking amazing she was, he didn’t deserve her.
I kept an eye on Kelly during the game. Outwardly, she seemed normal, joking with Marcus and Hoff and critiquing the play, but I could tell something was bothering her.
There was no denying that Frechette was on fire tonight. He scored the tying goal, and the game went into overtime. Then he scored the winner in a shootout. Kelly didn’t react at all—not a cheer or even a smile. I saw Marcus say something to her and she shrugged. Something was definitely wrong, and I felt the most hopeful I had all Christmas Break.
There was a postgame interview with the asshole. Kelly was watching everything, again with an expressionless face. Then the program switched to a shot outside the arena. All these young girls were cheering with signs like “I ♥ Freshy” and “Go, Captain Crunch!” They spoke to the girls, and they were all giggly and silly, saying things like “James Frechette is such an awesome player. And he’s so cute.” It was nauseating.
Kelly abruptly stood up and moved away from the couch. I was shocked to see a tear roll down her cheek. I had only a glimpse before she quietly slipped out the sliding door. Nobody noticed but me, and for a moment I couldn’t even move. Anger was coursing through my body. What had that asshole Frechette done to Kelly to make her cry? I grabbed some tissues and my shoes, and I slipped out after her.
I finally found her in the woods, shivering as she sat on a log. She didn’t even have shoes on for fuck’s sake. Tears were streaming down her face nonstop. I had never seen anyone cry like that before. And it was only the second time I had ever seen Kelly cry—ever.
“Here,” I handed her a tissue. She grabbed it and wiped off her face.
“I feel so—” Kelly began, but everything ended up garbled in sobbing. She was shivering, so I sat down beside her, unzipped my sweatshirt and wrapped it around her. She tried to say something else, but I couldn’t understand a word. I put my arm around her, and she leaned her head against me. Her familiar body trembled against mine. I stroked her hair and felt her tears hot and wet against my chest. I didn’t know exactly what was wrong, so I just kept saying, “It’s okay, it’s okay,” over and over.
Finally her crying eased up. She turned her tearstained face up to me and said, “I’m not like those girls.” It took me a beat to realize that she meant the stupid puck bunnies on TV.
“Of course you’re not,” I reassured her. She was so far above girls like that.
Poor Kelly, she was hurt and unhappy. It was completely frustrating. I was helpless to fix the problem for her, and it was beyond me to make her feel better. If there was anything worse than holding the woman you love while she cries for someone else, I’d like to know what the fuck it is.