Crying was hugely overrated. It wasn’t cathartic at all. The morning after I had my biggest crying jag ever, I felt even worse. Now in addition to feeling bad about my relationship with Jimmy, I had embarrassed myself in front of all my friends, and then cried on the shoulder of the last person in the world I should be leaning on. After Phil had spilled his guts to me and I had tried to ignore the whole thing, I’d taken advantage of his kindness and caring even though I had a boyfriend. That was user-behaviour at its worst.
What bothered me most was how I didn’t like myself right now. I was like some lame-o version of me: getting props for dating such a big deal player, moping because her boyfriend was away, crying on her ex-boyfriend’s shoulder. This was all the kind of behaviour I despised in girls, and now it was mine. Maybe that was why seeing those silly puck bunnies on TV had triggered something in me.
My first experience with puck bunnies was at an away game in Squamish, back when I played with the boys’ team. I think we were all about sixteen. Phil had a tremendous game, as usual, and scored three goals. After getting changed, Phil and I were heading down the corridor outside the dressing rooms to meet his dad in the lobby when these two girls stopped him.
“Hey, Fifteen,” they called out. That was Phil’s number.
“Great game. That was an awesome hat trick,” said one of them. The girls were kind of pretty. They wore skinny jeans, puffy jackets, and a ton of makeup.
I paused, not sure if I should wait for Phil or keep going. But then one of the girls boxed me out of the conversation, so I went on to the lobby.
“Where is he?” Phil’s dad asked impatiently after we’d been waiting a few minutes. Phil and I usually came out together.
“He’s talking to some girls back there.” Frankly, it was weird that they were being so nice to Phil when he had almost single-handedly defeated the home team. Shouldn’t they be cheering for the Squamish guys?
Mr. Davidson wasn’t the world’s most patient guy, and after a couple of minutes he headed off to get Phil himself. The two of them emerged through the doors, and Phil had a strange expression on his face. We packed our gear into the back of the SUV and took off.
“Did you know those girls?” I asked Phil from the back seat.
Mr. Davidson cleared his throat and started talking about the game, so I never found out what was going on until the next day at school. Marcus was the one who clued me in. He had come out of the dressing room and overheard what was going on.
“Those chicks offered to blow Phil. They said he deserved it because he scored a hat trick.”
“Both of them? How is that even possible?” I wondered. I mean, physically it wasn’t really possible because there was only one of him and two of them.
“Oh, for Chrissakes, Sparky, use your imagination.”
“Well, what I really don’t understand is how they even know him.”
“They don’t know him! They’re puck bunnies. When do we play Squamish again? I am getting a hat trick if it fucking kills me,” vowed Marcus.
Puck bunnies? Well, I had heard they came out for the rep teams, but I hadn’t ever seen any at a house hockey game before. But Phil was cute and a good player, so that totally made sense. Although it was pretty gross to think about doing something that intimate with someone just because he could put the puck in the net. There certainly weren’t any guys offering to have sex with me after a good game. Well, maybe that wasn’t strictly true, but any offers had nothing to do with how I had played hockey.
Ever since that day, I never heard anything but scorn for puck bunnies, from both guys and girls. The players might even hook up with them, but they’d always make fun of them later. But I tried not to diss them along with everyone else because I had a strange empathy for them. How could you not be turned on by hockey and awesome hockey players? Watching Jimmy play was what attracted me to him in the first place.
Maybe that was why I felt so bad when I saw those girls with the signs. I had become a puck bunny. I couldn’t support Jimmy with my advice or enthusiasm, and I had been reduced to a sexy distraction. I knew I was different, but it was the inequality in our relationship that was bothering me. I wanted to argue with him about this whole break, but I couldn’t because he had so much on his plate. He was on a bigger stage, so whatever I wanted came second. And of course, I wanted to be with him. While I understood what was going on, I resented it.
But there wasn’t any point in dwelling on all this crap. Our break was a chance for me to see more of my friends. I hung out with April and Karen. Charmaine was now home from a trip to Hong Kong, so I saw her too. The only embarrassing part was that news of my crying jag seemed to have spread far and wide, and nobody mentioned Jimmy, hockey, or relationships. And it was killing April not to pass judgement on all three of those things.
Phil was refreshingly different. Despite having to launder my tears and snot from his wardrobe, he treated the whole incident like a big joke. We went for a run and a workout together. Afterwards he asked me, “So are you coming over to watch the final tonight, or are you going to have another crying fit?”
“Oh, screw off, Davidson. It’s not like I cry all the time. Of course I’ll come over, it’s no big deal to me.” When I glanced over, he had a slight smile on his face. I realized he had goaded me into coming over. And I could also tell he was pretty happy Jimmy and I weren’t together, even if he didn’t know whether it was permanent.
Ben and April came over too. We all watched the game for a bit, but the first period was flat with no goals. April wasn’t interested at all, and even I was a little bored. So we left the game on and played some pool and air hockey, only pausing to watch the goal replays. I felt distanced from the whole tournament. I wanted Canada to beat the Russians, but I wasn’t going to go all crazed fan. Let the little girls cheer Jimmy on. Of course he played well, and scored the ultimate game winner on a power play, but whatever. The bigger Jimmy got, the less he was the guy I knew. Or was I protecting myself from further drama with all this detachment? I had no clue, but I wasn’t about to explore my emotional state, just in case. No more tears.
About an hour after the game, Ben was telling us a story about getting mugged in Shanghai when my cell rang. It was Jimmy.
I walked over to the sliding glass doors, for better reception and a modicum of privacy.
“Hey, Kelly, it’s so good to talk to you again. I missed you so much. So, what did you think of the game tonight?” He sounded like he was on a post-victory high and totally hyper.
“Congratulations. Great goal.” I told him. There was a distance, like we were back in separate countries, and our only connection was on the phone.
“So, we’ve got a couple of celebrations lined up for tonight. One’s at a private party room, and then we’re headed out for a club later. It’s gonna be great. You can come and meet me at the hotel, and we’ll head over.”
I had this odd moment of clarity where time stood still. As usual my body and my brain were arguing. My body missed Jimmy so much and wanted to see him and touch him. It would be a fun time and a new experience to party with the winning team. But my brain, and maybe my heart, were more cautious and even afraid. My defences were certainly up.
As I gazed out into Phil’s jungly backyard, I realized I could see the reflection of the room. Ben was still talking, but April and Phil were watching me and both of them were looking worried. I could see my good friends were afraid I was going to get hurt again.
I closed my eyes. I could imagine the whole evening, me clinging to the side of the team’s big hero, while everyone congratulated him and partied like drunken eighteen-year-olds. I’d get to be arm candy or chaperone. Frankly, neither role appealed to me.
My moment of suspended time ended, and I spoke into the phone, “Sorry, Jimmy. I’ve got plans with my friends tonight. I’ll catch you later.”
I hung up before he could say another word. Then I turned and smiled at everyone.
“Did somebody mention Twister?”
The evening turned out to be a lot of fun, and I didn’t regret my decision for one second. As the designated driver, I took everyone home. Ben first, even though he lived farther away, and then April. They actually sat together, giggling in the back seat and leaving me to feel like a chauffeur. I was happy to see April enjoying herself though. When I stopped at Ben’s place, I tried not to look in the rear view mirror. She hopped in the front after, and her lipstick was smeared.
“Well?” I asked.
“He’s… nice.”
“So descriptive. No wonder you almost flunked English 11.”
“I believe that was more due to excessive absenteeism,” she remarked with a snooty English accent.
“So, are you seeing Ben again?”
“Yes, we’re going out this weekend. A nice restaurant downtown. Ben’s been everywhere cool.” She smiled happily. Ben was nice-looking and a nice dresser; he met all April’s boyfriend criteria. But he was a really nice person as well, so I approved too, if anyone cared.
“2007 is starting off well.” She yawned.
That was debatable. It wasn’t until I pulled into my driveway I noticed I didn’t have my cellphone. I remembered placing it on the side table after I hung up on Jimmy. Maybe Phil would still be up and I could grab it. I went back to his place, walked around the back and peeked in the glass doors. Phil was sitting there, and he got up and opened the door as soon as I tapped on it. It was like he was waiting for me.
He sat back down on the couch, and I perched on the arm of it.
“I forgot my cell.”
“I know. I found it.” He pulled it out of his pocket and handed it to me.
“Thanks.” I paused. “And thanks for tonight and the other night. It was really nice, like we were all back in high school again.” When things were simple.
“You know, things could be simple again.” Was he reading my mind? I made a face.
“It’s easy to tell what you’re thinking, Kelly. You’re this optimist who wants things to go right. But you have to face facts sometimes.”
“What facts?”
“Not every guy may be as nice as your high school boyfriend.”
“I told you how nice you are. Let’s not get into the other stuff now.”
“Whatever.” Phil looked like he had a lot more to say, but for once he shut up. But he still had one more zinger as he handed me my phone.
“Oh, and James called.”
“What?”
“Yeah, and I spoke to him.”
Uh oh, this was not good.
“Phil, it’s not for you to—” I glared at him. “What did you say?”
“I told him to man up and be nice to you.”
“You don’t need to do that, I can protect myself.”
“Really, ’cause on Tuesday night I got the feeling you weren’t doing such a shit hot job of that.”
“You know, I’m pretty sick of guys telling me what’s best for me. I can decide what I want to do for myself. And right now, I don’t want to see you or talk to you.”
Phil had a funny expression on his face, like he was totally expecting this. I turned and left.
Jimmy
Around midnight, I decided to call Kelly again. I had been drinking, which probably affected my judgment, but I really wanted to see her. It was incredible being out with the guys after a huge win like tonight, but there were a lot of chicks hanging around and I couldn’t help thinking about Kelly. Maybe she would be done with her friends or sulking or whatever, and we could meet up.
Her cell rang quite a few times, and I wondered if she had gone to bed.
“Hi, James.” It was a guy’s voice!
“Who’s this?”
“It’s Phil, remember? Kelly’s friend.” He put an odd emphasis on the word friend. “Great game tonight,” he continued. “Really nice goal in the first. Yeah, you’re certainly a world class hockey player.”
“Uh, thanks.” This was a little weird, “Is Kelly—”
“Too bad you’re such a jerk as a human being.”
“What?”
“Yeah, Kelly hasn’t said a word, she’s too loyal for that, but from what I can see, you froze her out because she was interfering with your game day concentration. You let her know where she stands with you—that’s she’s not important to a big hockey star.”
“Look, you don’t know anything about us. And I can tell you’re jealous.”
But he kept on in this calm, cold voice. “Oh yeah, I do think I’d be better for her, but that’s because I don’t hurt her. I care about her.”
“I care about her,” I declared. Nobody cared about Kelly more than me.
“Wanna know something? I’ve known Kelly for ten years, and I had only seen her cry once. Back in Bantam, this big idiot from Sechelt came and checked her from a mile away. She crumpled up and lay on the ice. When I skated over I knew it was serious because she was crying. Turned out her arm was broken in two places. Shit, anyone would be crying.” He took a breath. “But on Tuesday night, I got to see her cry again. And that was thanks to you. Way to go, asshole.”
Kelly had been crying? Man, that was hard to imagine.
“You know something else? Kelly’s going to be furious when she finds out I told you off. She may even decide not to talk to me for a while, which would suck. But I’m still going to tell her, because I’m a man and men own their crap. They don’t blame it on their girlfriends like a little baby.”
Then he hung up. And left me holding my cell and feeling like the world’s biggest loser.