Puck Buddies (23 page)

When we leave Vienna for France, I
check my phone on the plane as we land.

I have sixteen missed calls and over a
hundred messages.

All the calls are from Matt but I have
messages from other people too. I start to get worried about all those calls
but check the messages first.

Matt has sent most of them so I got to the
one from the person I don’t know.

I click on the conversation, my jaw
dropping when I see the photo. He’s in some industrial-looking shower, his face
is beaten to shit like it just happened, and a girl in a costume is sucking his
cock. There’s no text with it, just a photo. He’s got his hands in her hair and
his eyes closed.

My insides tighten.

“What the ever-loving fuck?” I whisper.

Who sent this?

I check the number and press call,
confused. I get up and walk to the bathroom as it rings. I sit on the toilet
and wait.

“Hello?” a girl answers.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” She pauses. “Who is this?”

“Why did you send me that picture?”

“What picture? Who are you?”

“THE FUCKING PICTURE YOU SENT OF MATT!”
Tears fill my eyes as rage overwhelms me.

“I never sent a picture, just a sec.”
She still sounds chipper. She pulls the phone back, there’s a difference in her
voice as she switches me to speakerphone, “Oh shit! I don’t even know who sent
that, sweetie. We were at a party last night and I wasn’t paying much attention
to my phone.”

“Did you suck his dick? Is that real?”

“Now that’s none of your business. What
happens between me and Brimstone is our business.”

“Who the
fuck are
you?”

“Tandy. Who is this?”

“No one.” I hang up, collapsing into
the wall of the bathroom to sob. My entire body heaves as I’m blinded by rage
and hate and pain. With trembling hands, I turn my phone off. I don’t care what
he has to say.

My heart falls out of my chest,
smashing everywhere.

Of course this is how it ends. Of
course this is my life.
Of course.

Because why not?

I’m cursed.

I’m worthless.

I’m undeserving.

Bros before hos

Matt

January 15, 2015

“She won’t see you, bro. She’s in Paris
drinking with friends anyway.”
Carson’s eyes narrow.
He’s judging me and I don’t care.

“I have to see her.” But I don’t have
time. I have a game tonight and then one in two days. It’s like that for the
next two months.

“She told me she never wants to see you
again. She never wants to see you or hockey or any of it again. I don’t know
what you did to her, but that photo has sent her over the edge. My mom said
Sami’s even told her dad he can pick someone for her to marry when she
graduates. I think you were on the list but the hockey thing is killing you.”

“She’s Sami, she won’t let him pick her
husband.” I can’t believe that.

“I don’t know. She’s also switching her
major from art history to business.”

“What?” The dull ache inside me has
been going steady for the two weeks since she stopped talking to me.

“Your side dish sent her a fucking
picture of you getting a blow job after the game, dude. What did you think would
happen? Of course she’s done. She’s Sami Ford. She doesn’t let guys treat her
that way.”

“Tandy didn’t send the photo. I don’t
know who did.” I want to slam things and kill people and destroy worlds. I want
to fly to where she is. I don’t want to board a plane for another city to play
another game with someone who betrayed me. “I gotta go.” I wave at Carson and
walk off, headed for home.

I dial Bev.

“Hey, skid mark. What’s going on?” She
sounds distracted and hollow.

“Are you playing a video game?”

“Yeah.” It takes her a second to
answer. “Why?”

“Can you stop?”

“How serious are we talking?”

“Turn the game off, please.”

“Yup.” She’s silent for a moment and
then she’s back. “What have you done?”

“Nothing. Everything. I’m fucked.” I
climb in the elevator at my building and close my eyes. “She saw a picture of me
and another girl.”

“A PF?”

“Yeah.”

“You fucking idiot.” Bev says it
quietly, like it’s worse in a low tone. It
kinda
is.
“What were you doing?”

“It was after the game where I got in
the fight and the girl was on her knees in front of me. Sami and I weren’t
dating. We still aren’t. I don’t know what we are, but she saw the photo and
she won’t talk to me.”

“Oh my God! You are a fucking moron. If
your dad saw that, you’d be disinherited. Are you that fucking stupid?
Seriously? For a
blow job
? And then that pic goes to
the one girl you’ve actually liked for years? Wow! You’re a douche and I don’t
even know what to tell you.” She’s lost it now. I almost relish the lashing. I
deserve every hit. “I can say you need to leave this girl the fuck alone.
You’re probably killing her. She might be a dipshit rich bitch but she doesn’t
deserve this. She deserves way better than you. You’re a fucker.” She hangs up
on me.

I look at my phone, lost. When I get
into the hallway it rings. It’s Bev again.

“Hey.” I assume the hang up was for
effect. It worked.

“And another thing, jerkwad, I’m
telling Gran what you did.” She hangs up again.

I enter the house
,
certain
everyone knows everything
. Benson smiles and nods at my packed bag. He
doesn’t say anything. He won’t. He gave me that speech and I had my chance to
come clean to Sami before she found out on her own. I blew it and now I’ve
blown this.

“I was just about to send the bag down
to Charles. He’s waiting in the car out front. Have a good game.” Benson offers
something resembling a smile.

“I blew it, Benson. I ruined everything
with her.”

“I knew you would, sir. But almost
anything can be cleaned up with some effort.”

Effort.

There’s that word again.

Effort.

I never have time for effort. I met her
at the wrong time.

My chest is aching. My entire body
hurts as I grab the bag and head back to the elevator.

When we get to the airport, the team is
there ready to board.

Coach gives me a look. His eyes narrow
and he nods to the side of the large hallway we’re in. I don’t put my bag down
with the others. I head for where he is.

“I heard some bullshit, Brimley. I need
it to be cleared up that this event didn’t happen. I don’t allow for betrayal
of one’s brothers. Normally, I wouldn’t ask you to tattle on someone, but this
is the worst crime ever committed in my fucking locker room—you hear me?”

I nod, scared of what I’ve
done.

He lifts his phone, flashing the photo.
I grimace and look away.

“Did you ask someone to take this
photo?” He asks the wrong question.

I pause and stare, not sure how to
answer. “No.” Is that the crime, asking someone to take a photo of Tandy?

“Good enough for me.” He shoos me off.
“Go drop your bags and don’t worry about it again.

“I don’t understand, Coach.”

“That’s what’s saving your bacon, kid,”
he growls and walks off.

Evil Canadians

Sami

“Were you dating?” Carson asks,
spreading some clotted cream and lemon curd on the scone in his hand.

“No. It was just a thing. We
were—I don’t know.” I hate that he’s still asking me this a month later.
I’ve avoided talking about it as much as I can but he’s relentless. “It was
like we were together but not exclusive. I guess.”

“But you’re pissed he got his—”

“Don’t!” I wave my hands in his face.
“I don’t want to talk about this, Carson. Please. Just stop. I’m not mad he got
it on with someone else. I’m mad he wanted to. Like I wasn’t enough.” I say it
before I realize what I’m saying. We both look shocked that I’ve just shared
something so intense and personal. Something I haven’t even shared with Nat. I
don’t know why but I’m still protecting Matt from her hatred.

“That’s fair.” He brushes the
confession off. “So did you hear it was the Canadian he always hung out with,
Laramie, who took the pic?”

“No. Canadians are nice. He wouldn’t
have. It had to be someone else. Maybe Matt wanted the picture taken.”

“No. It was
him
.
Matt and Tandy had no idea he took it or shared it. He’s the one who sent Tandy
into the shower. I think he was trying to sabotage your relationship from the
start.”

“Why?” That doesn’t make sense. “And it
wasn’t a relationship.”

“I think he’s crushing on Mattie. He’s
being traded. Their coach is pissed. Taking photos in the dressing rooms is a
total thing.”

“Wow, fuck Canadians.”

“I know, right? He’s lucky Matt doesn’t
sue.”

“I don’t know about that. It’s just a
picture and Matt is a dirty puck.” I roll my eyes.

“It’s not just a pic. Imagine if it were
you. His dad doesn’t like hockey any more than yours does. If he sees that pic,
Matt’s fucked. He’ll be out of hockey or disinherited.”

“Well, he should have thought of that.”
I’m still angry. We might not have been dating; we might not have been anything
more than me standing on the road telling him I liked him. And maybe he doesn’t
know how hard that was for me to do. But I can’t let it go. I wish I could let
him go.

“I heard you told Daddy Dearest he can
pick your future husband.” Carson laughs.

“I never said that.”

“Is it
me
?”
His eyes shine a little too much for there to be only humor in his words, but I
have to assume he’s joking.

“Stop, oh my God. No.
I only said I understood the need for advantageous marriages and I
wasn’t against them anymore.
I’m never going to fall in love. So who
cares who I marry? And I only said it to appease him. He was all over me last
week about Matt. I told him it was honestly nothing. He didn’t believe me. I
gave him that to end the conversation.” I narrow my gaze. “And no, it wasn’t
you we were speaking about. You just want me to be your beard so you can swing
every way possible.”

“Better friends than forced, Sami. You
should think on it. I’d be game if you were.” He lifts his eyebrows. “Lord
knows we’re in the same boat. Neither of us is free to do what we want so why
not control the game?”

“I guess.” He has a point.

“I heard your dad had been talking to
Zach Palfrey’s parents about his future. He’s way worse than I am.”

“Doesn’t he play hockey too?” I scowl,
almost annoyed that Dad would allow Palfrey but not Brimley even though they
both play hockey.

“Yeah. He plays college. And he might
farm team out for fun. But he won’t go to the NHL. Palfrey’s agreed with his
parents; he’s finishing school and going into the family business. This is like
sowing oats and nothing more.”

“Yikes.” I glance at the tray of sweets
between us. We both love high tea and it always looks like we’re on a date,
which makes our parents happy. “Zach’s hot but I don’t know about anything
else.”

“If we’re not married by thirty, we
marry each other?” Carson lifts his tea, offering me a dazzling smile.

“I don’t know.” It’s only a tea deal but
it feels too mature and too far away to agree to this.

“You don’t want to be alone for the
rest of your life.”

“Fine.” I say it to shut him up. I
won’t ever marry him or anyone by force. I don’t want to talk about this
anymore. “Anyway, Nat and Will broke up again. I hate him.”

“Huge shocker there. Even I’m getting
tired of Will’s antics. Nat is too nice. I don’t know how to solve this issue.”
He glances at me through his lashes. “Or any of the issues we seem to have.”

“Whatever.” I take an entire tart and
stuff it in my mouth, not caring
who
’s watching. I
close my eyes and chew. Food tastes so much better when you’re shattered and
broken and devastated. It’s soothing. The sugary lemon curd melts on my tongue
as I chew and moan.

“That was a touch erotic, watching you
take that whole thing in your mouth. No wonder Mattie boy misses you.”

I flip him off but the words “miss me”
sting.

After tea we part ways. I go home with
Vincenzo and play chess with Nadia, sending texts back and forth with a bummed-out
Nat, trying to cheer her up with random gossip and the positives of being
single and how boys suck.

Eventually, she wants to nap, which
actually means game and block out the world, so I head up to my room.

My phone rings as I reach the stairs.

“Hey, Linda,” I answer, wondering if I’ve
missed an appointment.

“I wanted to check on you. How are
things?”

“Sucky.
But whatever.
How’s it going with you?” I don’t think I’ve asked her that before.

“I called to check in on you. I want to
be sure you’re okay.” She ignores my question.

“I’m fine. I mean I’m sad. I am human.”
I think I have to remind her that just because I don’t show my emotions doesn’t
mean I don’t have them. Or maybe that’s me I have to remind.

“Are you angry?” she asks carefully.

“I don’t know. I guess.” I sit on the
stairs and really think about how it all makes me feel. Being honest with her
hurts and makes me hate everything I’ve said aloud, but then I feel better. But
it’s always later, after I’ve said it. In the moment, it sucks.

“Can you talk about it? Like why you’re
angry.”

“I think the thing that pisses me off
the most is that I did what you said: I put myself out there. I was vulnerable.
And it backfired. It didn’t work at all. I told someone I have worth and they
didn’t agree with me.” Tears build in my eyes as my voice turns to a whisper, “He
broke my heart but the worst part is he took away the worth I showed him.” I
heave a little, unable to speak for a moment. “I felt something I’ve never felt
before.”

“What’s that?”

“Agony.”

“I’m sorry this happened to you. You
must know you are worth so much more than how he has treated you.”

“No. I don’t know that. I’ve never
known that. You always say my cruelty and cockiness are armor. You’re the one
who says I don’t believe in myself or value who I am.” I sniffle, wiping my
cheeks. “And now everything hurts because of it. The kind of hurt you can’t get
rid of. It aches all the time. You said he liked me back.”

“I’m sorry, Sami. I really thought he
did.”

“I should have just kept playing with
him. I was in control. I got him and I got to say how and when.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“My chest broke, it tightened and I
couldn’t breathe.” Tears stream my eyes, and I see everything I want to say,
but I don’t know how so I force the words out, “I think my heart fell out on
the floor of my parents’ jet. And when I picked up the pieces it didn’t become
whole again. It’s a mosaic and not a normal heart. It’s fractured like
patchwork.”

“Amazing imagery, Sami. You have a
gift. I hope you’re still writing these down.”

“I don’t care about the imagery. I
don’t care about anything. Can’t you see that? You broke me! I was doing fine
before.” I finally lose it.

“No, Sami. You were miserable. You came
to me and asked me to help you and I did. You’re better. I like you better.
You’re crying for God’s sake.”

I don’t answer. I can’t speak. I’m
crying harder than I can keep up with while still breathing. I hate her. This
is all her fault. She convinced me to play by rules I wasn’t comfortable with.
I didn’t see it until this moment but I do now.

“The important part of this story is
that you felt something for someone and you told them.
It’s a
start
,
kid
. Feeling something bad is better
than not feeling. You live in the zombie world of prescription drugs and
detachment. So feeling destroyed isn’t entirely bad for people like you.”

“It feels bad. This all feels bad.”

“It feels terrible. But I have been
there too. I was heartbroken once and my heart was in a patchwork of bad
things. But over time I healed. I fell in love again. And I loved more because
of it. I understood the value of love.”

“I will never love someone, ever.”

She sighs. “You’ll get over this. You
did the right thing, ending it. He clearly was still not as into you. But that
doesn’t mean there won’t be a boy who is. There are a million fish in the sea
who would consider themselves lucky to love you.” She says all the things I’ve
tried to point out to Nat, only I was subtler. “He hasn’t even tried to see
you, has he?” She goes for the gut with that one.

“He came by the house a couple of times,
but I told the staff I was busy and I never wanted to see him again.”

“Sami, if a guy needs to see you, your
staff isn’t going to scare him off. He’s going to sit outside your house. He’s
going to camp in a car on your road. He’s going to stalk the places you go.
This one mistake shouldn’t have scared him off, not if he loves you. You need
to cut the ties. Any further involvement is only going to hurt you. That’s my
opinion.”

She has a point.

Where is he?

Why isn’t he on the street below,
screaming for me to see him?

Why is my curse “Stubborn Love”?