Hockey Is My Boyfriend: Part One

by Ting, Melanie

  Phil was watching my face and he laughed. “I know when you stick out your chin like that, you’ve got your mind made up. I said I’d be a perfect gentleman, and I will be.”

  “Thanks,” I said happily. “I’m sure it won’t be that long until I’m ready.”

  Phil leaned so close that I could feel his hot breath as he whispered in my ear, “Let me know as soon as you’re ready, Kel. Day or night.”

  Jell-O again.

  22

  Insecurity Blanket

  After school, Charmaine and I walked to my place because we were working on a biology assignment together. Charmaine could have done the whole thing alone and blindfolded, but our teacher liked to assign group work. We were both happy to work together and not with some bozo who wouldn’t do anything other than sign his name to the finished work.

  Although it was December, it wasn’t raining and the fresh air felt great.

  “So, how’s it going? You and Phil,” Charmaine wondered. Phil and I had been going out for a couple of weeks now.

  “It’s good,” I said. “Well, mostly good.”

  She looked at me curiously. “Tell me, Kelly. My whole social life is vicarious.” Poor Charmaine. Dating was out of the question right now. She was really looking forward to moving into residence next year. Her parents wanted her to stay in Vancouver, but at least she’d get some independence.

  “Well, the good part is the two of us together. We have a great time and Phil knows me already, so I can be normal.” Since April had thrown my old clothes out, I still dressed up, but now I acted more like myself.

  “Sound great, so what’s the bad part?”

  “Other people are weirding me out. Some random girl at Shoppers congratulated me on ‘landing’ Phil. And girls I hardly know are warning me not to get too attached, because he’s going to dump me soon.”

  “That’s ridiculous. It’s not their business,” Charmaine agreed.

  “Also, I don’t get why people treat me differently because I’m going out with him. Guys and girls.” It was really stupid, but people seemed to think I was cooler now, just because I was going out with Phil.

  Charmaine shook her head. “You’re asking the wrong person. I know nothing about relationships. I do know I could never go out with a guy like Phil.”

  “What does that mean, a guy like Phil?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insult you.” Charmaine peered at me to make sure I wasn’t offended. “I only meant that I could never date him because he’s so out of my league.”

  “Why not? You’re cute and really smart. What more could a guy want?”

  She started to giggle nervously. “Phil is so good-looking and experienced with women. Dating Phil would be like learning to drive in a Ferrari—way too much car for a beginner.”

  I thought about her remark. Phil did have a legendary rep. There were tons of rumours about him: that he had done it in the girls’ changeroom near the gym, that he got blown under the table during chem lab, and that something wild happened on the bus to the grad ski trip. Phil never said anything, but it was like he had a pervert publicist out there somewhere.

  I knew a lot of this stuff was bull. I remembered one time when he was supposed to be having a three-way in the back of the school theatre; we were actually building a Lego city with my little brother—not that Phil would want that fact to get out. So I never believed a lot of the stuff I heard about Phil, but if even 10% of the stuff were true, then Phil was a frigging sex machine.

  “I wonder if I can drive a Ferrari,” I gulped. A Toyota was more my speed. On one hand, I realized that if we were happy, I shouldn’t be worried about other people’s opinions or warnings. And Nicklas seemed to get off on my inexperience. But on the other hand, I didn’t want to disappoint Phil. I wanted things to work out for more than a month.

  Phil’s idea of giving me space and mine were different. I thought we’d go back to the old buddy days, but Phil was a physical person. So he seemed to think that as long as we weren’t having sex, that was enough of a concession. He wanted to hold hands, he wanted to sit close, and he wanted to kiss and make out whenever. Who could blame him? I wanted to do all those things too, but I wasn’t quite there yet.

  I wondered when I would be ready. My body was more than ready, but my head needed time to adjust. Also, I knew that Nicklas was still upset. I hated hurting anyone’s feelings, and I felt guilty. So many complications.

  “Don’t worry, Kelly. You’re very coordinated, I’m sure you could drive any kind of car,” Charmaine joked. She patted my arm. “No seriously, you shouldn’t worry. I think that Phil feels very differently about you than anyone else. He’s always liked you.”

  But as I was finding out, that made things tougher. The more you cared about someone, the more you worried about everything going right.

  We passed by the garage and we poked our heads inside to say hi to my mom. She had a full pottery studio inside, with a potter’s wheel, a slab roller, and a kiln. My mom made these beautiful vessels that were a cross between a giant vase and a sculpture.

  She looked up from the wheel. She was dressed in a faded denim shirt, a multi-coloured Indian cotton skirt, and old leather boots. Her hair was covered in a fine dust and her arms were muddy, but she still glowed. She loved being in the studio.

  “Hello, girls. How are you, Charmaine dear?” My mom loved Charmaine, all the parents did.

  “I’m fine, thank you, Molly. Are you getting ready for a show?”

  “Yes, I’m having a small exhibition at the District Hall next month. But I have a big order for my gallery in Toronto, so things are hectic.” My mom was always busy though; even if she didn’t have a show or sale, she experimented with glazes, transfers, and new materials. She worked really hard at something that most of her friends saw as a hobby. She rubbed the back of her hand over her forehead and streaked clay across her face.

  I pointed to her cheek, and she nodded. “I’ll get cleaned up before your dad gets home. There are carrot muffins if you want them.” Then she got back to work, and we went inside the house. I could hear that my brother had a friend in his room.

  “Your house is always so nice—full of flowers,” Charmaine commented as she looked around. Our house was done up in a crafty-cottage style. My mom was always adding more pottery, paintings, and natural stuff like seashells or driftwood. This year she had done a Christmas tree all in flowers that looked pretty amazing.

  “My dad brings flowers home for my mom every evening,” I replied.

  “Really? That’s so unbelievably romantic. I know he’s a florist, but still. The two of them fit together perfectly. She makes vases and he brings flowers.”

  I debated whether to tell her the whole story. The way he rushed in to see her as soon as he got home. The way she gushed over the flowers like he didn’t do this every flipping night. They still acted like newlyweds and although it was sweet, it was also embarrassing. I decided not to tell Charmaine, who was already too much of a romantic.

  “Yeah, it’s sooooo adorable. Flowers are okay, but… whatever.”

  The family joke was that my mom wished she had a daughter. Someone who also loved flowers, dresses, and shopping. We admired each other’s accomplishments, but she usually skipped my hockey games, and I never wanted to go to art galleries or watch weepy movies with her. When I was young, she tried to jumpstart my creativity by enrolling me in art, music, and drama classes, but I could not sit still that long. Finally, my grandmother had pointed out that my mom should choose the activities I wanted and not the ones she wished she had done as a kid. That was when I got to start hockey.

  Despite my secrecy, Charmaine had already set sail on the Love Boat. “Flowers every night? I wonder if I’ll ever meet a man that considerate?”

  My knowledge from hockey dressing rooms would have led me to guess: “Not a snowball’s chance in hell.” But I didn’t say a word. Why disillusion someone sweet who was about to help me get an A in Bio?
r />   23

  Near Miss

  Phil

  “Awww, some girl stand you up, Stud?”

  I turned to see Sherry, a girl I had dated last year. She was wearing the tight black dress that seemed to be the uniform at this restaurant. She leaned over the table, tossed back her red hair, and gave me a big smile.

  “Oh sorry, I meant: good afternoon, Phil.”

  “Oh hey, Sherry.”

  “I never thought I’d see the day that Phil Davidson would get hooked. So you do have a heart.”

  I hated it when shit like this happened. “Ouch. Nice to see you too.”

  “Yeah, I’ve been watching you from the moment you walked in, even though you didn’t notice me. I was shocked to see you getting nervous when your date didn’t show. Must be someone really special to get a chill dude like you all lathered up.”

  “Look Sherry, we had a good time together, right? But that was eons ago. I’m sure someone as beautiful as you has lots of opportunities.”

  “You’re as smooth as ever. But then you were always good at pushing the right buttons.” She laughed harshly. “And I don’t mean sex either, although that was legendary.”

  She looked towards the bar. “I’d better offer you a drink or something, so I don’t get in trouble. What are you having today?”

  “I’m good,” I told her. I kept half an eye on the door, but tried not to let Sherry notice. It bothered Kelly when we ran into my ex-girlfriends, so I hoped Sherry would finish trying to rip me a new one and leave. This lunch date was the first real time alone I was going to have with Kelly since New Year’s Day, and I had been looking forward to it.

  “So, who is she anyway?”

  On cue, Kelly walked in. She looked like a drowned rat, with her hair soaked and her jacket dripping rain everywhere. And she looked upset.

  “Kelly. Over here,” I called out.

  Sherry turned and stared. “Really? Colour me shocked.”

  Kelly rushed over. “Oh Phil, I’m so sorry that I’m late. The worst thing happened!” She took off her jacket, spraying us all with water, and then noticed Sherry. “Oh no, I’ve gotten rain all over you. And you have a nice dress on. I’m really sorry!”

  Sherry smiled. “It’s okay, don’t worry. I’ll take your coat and hang it up on the wall.” She held the Gore-Tex jacket at arm’s length and finally took off.

  “Are you okay? Did you have an accident or something?”

  “I’m fine. But when I was driving here, I hit a raccoon! I couldn’t avoid him, he darted onto the Parkway and I heard a thud. But I didn’t kill him or anything, he went scampering back into the woods!”

  “So, why are you all wet?”

  “Well, I couldn’t leave without seeing if he was okay. If he was hurt, I’d have to take him to the vet. So I went into the woods and looked everywhere, but I couldn’t find him.” She sighed. “I hope he’s all right.”

  I grinned, imagining Kelly trying to corral a grumpy and injured raccoon. “If he ran off, he was probably fine.”

  “Yeah, he was a big one.” She held her arms out. “And there’s no dent in the bumper or anything, so I guess I didn’t hit him too hard.”

  Then Sherry returned. “Look—Kelly, right?” Kelly nodded. “Come with me, I’ve wrangled a towel and a blow-dryer from the staff room, and you can get cleaned up in the woman’s washroom.” Sherry motioned toward her eyes, and then I noticed that Kelly had a bit of a raccoon look herself. I think it was still tough for Kelly to get used to wearing makeup, but I could care less. I figured she looked great with or without.

  “Wow, that’s so nice of you,” Kelly said. As they left, Sherry looked back at me over her shoulder and my heart sunk. What the hell was she going to say to Kelly when they were alone?

  * * *

  “By the way, I’m Sherry.”

  “I’m Kelly. Oh sorry, you know that.” I smiled back at the waitress. The two of us in the mirror were a huge contrast. She was beautifully dressed and perfectly groomed, her reddish hair all sleek and smooth. I looked like my cat after a bath, complete with a towel on my head. I noticed there was black under my eyes.

  “Augh, what a disaster. I didn’t even want to wear mascara, but one of my teammates insisted when she heard I had a date after practice.” I rubbed away at it with a tissue until I was back to normal. I usually wore waterproof mascara, but this stuff was something Hilary put on me.

  “Practice?” She plugged in the blow dryer, but I didn’t ever use one. I combed out my hair and tied it back, with Sherry watching me.

  “Yeah, I play hockey.”

  “Really? You don’t look like a hockey player to me.”

  “I know, because I have all my teeth, right?” My top was a little damp, so I took the blow dryer after all and ran it inside my t-shirt. “Woo hoo, that feels good.”

  Sherry started laughing at me, and I laughed along with her. She was really nice.

  “Thanks for doing all this,” I told her. “I think you’ve gone above and beyond.”

  “Not at all,” she said. “It’s been very interesting for me.”

  I didn’t get what she meant, but I was all set so we packed up and left the ladies room. Phil looked a little concerned when I got back to the table.

  “Everything okay in there?” he asked.

  I nodded. “What could be wrong? I didn’t even drop the hair dryer in the sink and electrocute myself.”

  I was starved, so we ordered lunch. Sherry brought me a nice pot of hot tea, and I was feeling much better. I had felt guilty for hitting the raccoon and being late. “Oh, I forgot to ask, how did your soccer game go?”

  “Good. It was pretty shitty out there, but we eked out a win.”

  “You don’t look muddy,” I said. He looked so nice, all neatly dressed in dark jeans and a navy Henley.

  “I showered before I came here.”

  “Phil! You showered? I thought we were meeting here after our events. I didn’t even shower; I came straight here after practice. I get to be the yucky one while you look so good.”

  “You did shower,” he pointed out. “Thanks to Rocky Raccoon. And you look great.”

  I scrunched up my nose. Then I remembered what I wanted to talk to him about. “Hey, I got a follow-up call from the women’s hockey coach at McGill. He saw me at that tournament in Calgary, and he wants me to play for him.”

  “Wow, Kelly. That’s great. Are you thinking about it?”

  “Well, kind of. I mean, I did apply to McGill right away, because he suggested I do that—to keep my options open. But I haven’t even discussed it with my parents. And it’s going to be expensive, right?”

  “So, what’s the team like there?”

  “They’ve been moving up the C.I.S. rankings, last season they were top three. He explained the whole long-range plan to me when I had coffee with him. Later I got a call from this girl, Donna, who plays for them. She says it’s a great team and a good situation. She also said Montréal is amazing.”

  The coach had asked her to call me in case I had any questions. It was all so exciting, except they didn’t have any money or anything for me. But still it was better than U.B.C., where they didn’t even know I was alive.

  “Sounds like they’re putting in a real push to get you.”

  “He said he likes my effort, and he was very interested in the fact that it’s my first year in women’s hockey. I guess he thinks I have more potential, or something?”

  Phil nodded. “You were always the one who listened to Jerry, at practice and during games. Sounds like switching teams was the right move.”

  “I have to admit, playing with the Avalanche this year has been a great experience.” The tournament had been awesome, even if we had only made it to the semis. And I loved playing with other girls who were as into hockey as me.

  “Oh boy, lunch,” I said, as our soup and sandwich combos arrived. “Thank you, Sherry.”

  “You guys are tight now,” Phil observed once she left.<
br />
  “She’s really nice,” I replied and he raised an eyebrow.

  We ate in silence for a few minutes. Then Phil said, “Sounds like you’re pretty excited about this McGill thing. You should go for it. Why don’t you talk to your parents about it and find out if it’s even a possibility?”

  I nodded. My family did not have a ton of extra money. My dad’s florist business did okay, but he had to work a lot of hours. And my mom’s pottery career wasn’t exactly a big money-maker. But he was right; I needed to ask before I got all excited about the possibility.

  I watched Phil as he ate his lunch. It was crazy, but I really liked his hands. He had these long fingers, and I liked to watch him play guitar or whatever. Or even spoon soup up to his mouth. What a weirdo I was. Phil looked so handsome in his navy shirt, and suddenly I felt sad. If I went to Montréal, we would be 5000 clicks apart. Maybe it was time we got more physical. I mean, we couldn’t have sex once I was in Montréal.

  “So, um, Phil,” I began. It was kind of embarrassing to talk about this.

  He finished his sandwich and looked up at me. “What’s up?”

  “I really appreciate the way you’ve given me time and space, you know, and everything.”

  Phil half-smiled. “No problem.”

  “But now….” I didn’t know how to phrase this. I couldn’t come right out and say something like, “Let’s get it on.” Or invite him to start jumping me. “Uh, well, I think I’m ready now.”

  Phil, who was usually so smart, gave me a puzzled look. “For what?”

  Oh man, was he going to make me spell this out? “I’m ready, for you know, you and me to… um, start. Doing stuff.”

  “Stuff?” Phil asked. He wasn’t even smiling, but I was sure he was stringing me along here. Bastard.

  Just then, Sherry came over. “Here’s the dessert menu, in case you’d like to order something.” She cleared away our plates. “Can I get you some more hot water for your tea, Kelly?”