Hockey Is My Boyfriend: Part One

by Ting, Melanie

“So, what are you really doing here?” he wondered.

  “I need to talk to you,” I explained. “It’s really important.”

  “Is everything okay?” he asked with a worried note in his voice.

  “Yes, better than okay. But maybe we can talk somewhere more private?” People kept walking by and checking us out.

  “Sure, I’ve got the SUV, so why don’t we just throw your bike in the back? I’ll drive you home and we can stop someplace on the way back.”

  We ended up at Harbourview Park, which is a crazy little park where you can watch ships being loaded and unloaded. It was a place hardly anyone knew about and usually empty. This time there was a mom and toddler in the observatory tower. Phil and I sat down on a bench, and he finished his drink.

  Phil still had sunglasses on, so I couldn’t really tell if he was “lighter” or not. Charmaine was right about his mouth being a straight line. However, when I looked at his mouth, all I wanted to do was kiss him.

  “So, what’s up?” he asked me.

  “Well, I came to a big decision last night. I don’t want to go to McGill.

  “What? What are you talking about?”

  “I want to stay here. I can always play hockey here. I’m sure I’ll make the U.B.C. team.”

  “But you wanted to play for McGill, that’s what you’ve been excited about all summer.” Phil sounded shocked.

  “I know. But I was thinking about things, and I don’t really want to leave. Everything is so good here, and it’s what I’m used to. I’d be dumb to leave Vancouver.”

  “Everything was good here yesterday, and you were ready to go.” He sounded like a lawyer or something. I couldn’t understand Phil’s reaction. I thought he’d be ecstatic, as happy as I was that our end wasn’t looming anymore.

  “Yeah, well, April challenged me to think about what I really wanted. And the more I thought about it, the more I realized that what I wanted was….” I paused because the first word that came to my mind was “you,” but I got the uncomfortable feeling that in his irritated mood, Phil would not want to hear that word. “Um, staying here, with my family and um, friends.”

  “But the McGill team is way better,” Phil continued. “Remember we talked to Elliot about the problems at U.B.C.?”

  “I don’t get this, Phil. I thought you’d be happy that I was staying here with you.”

  He kept frowning, but responded automatically. “Of course I’m glad we’ll still be together. But it’s August. How can you get into U.B.C. at this late date?”

  I sighed. “Yeah, that’s true. But you know me, I’m pretty determined. If there’s a possibility, I’ll get it done. Of course, I’ll have to live at home, but that means less money, which is good. And if I can’t get in this year, I could work for a year.”

  “Man, you’ve really thought a lot about all this,” Phil looked at me, and finally he put his arm around me and pulled me close.

  “Phew. I thought you were upset,” I said, snuggling into his chest. “I can’t deny that everything that’s happened with us lately made this decision easier. I love you, Phil.” It felt so nice to be able to say that whenever I wanted.

  “I love you too, Kel.” But instead of a real kiss, Phil only kissed the top of my head. We sat there in silence for a while. I could feel his warm chest rising and falling through his t-shirt. He smelled like chlorine and sunscreen.

  Phil lifted my chin and kissed me properly this time. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him back. I felt so happy with him, so sure that I was doing the right thing.

  “That’s more like it,” I told him with a laugh.

  “Kelly,” his voice was serious. “I have to go home now. We’ve got a family thing on. Would you do me one favour?”

  I nodded.

  “I know you have to start talking to U.B.C. or whatever.”

  “I’ve already started,” I confessed. So far, only brick walls, but it was early days.

  “Just don’t do anything permanent yet—like turning down McGill or sending money to U.B.C. Give it 24 hours.”

  “Okay, but why?”

  “I don’t know. You should really sleep on this. And I’m sure you haven’t told your parents yet. You have a tendency to go off half-cocked. I still don’t get why something so important to you is suddenly inconsequential.”

  “What thing?”

  “Well, hockey. You’re willing to give up a good hockey opportunity to stay here?”

  I nodded. Phil was right, I was trying hard not to think too much about the hockey part, and frankly it was easier to reject the unknown option. I mean, I could still play hockey—it was only that the team wasn’t as good.

  My mom used to say that someday I’d find something more important than hockey. I always knew what she was hinting at; she was ridiculously romantic. But then, she got the fairy tale she wanted. It wasn’t only the flowers my dad brought her each night, but the way they acted together. When I was home, I could hear her delighted laughter and his low tones as they got caught up on each other’s days. Good thing I couldn’t see them, but I could still hear the rise and fall of their voices. Still, it was comforting to know how happy they were.

  Once, when we were younger, Phil was there when this whole flower routine happened.

  “Is it their anniversary or something?” he asked me.

  “Nope. That’s what they do.” I said. At the time, I figured everyone’s parents did something similar. Phil’s dad did something in finance, so maybe he brought home money. Flowers were okay, but I wouldn’t have minded getting a shiny gold loonie every night. “What do your parents do?”

  Phil shrugged. “They fight. That’s what they do.”

  I thought that was weird. I was over a lot, and I had never heard them fighting. But maybe it was something they did at night. That was when I realized that not everyone was like my parents.

  And now, it wasn’t that I figured, like my sentimental girlfriends, that Phil was my forever boyfriend, and we were going to end up married. No way. It was only that I felt like good stuff didn’t always last forever, so why screw it up if I didn’t absolutely have to? I knew I’d never felt so happy before.

  41

  Insensitive

  Phil

  I spent that evening and a lot of the night wondering what to do.

  Kelly was impulsive, but she usually had good judgment. I had to admit, it was tempting to think about us keeping things going at university. Sleeping together regularly, like we did at Whistler, would be incredible. Having Kelly around to talk to about stuff, or to hang out with would be great. I knew enough about relationships to know that what we had was special. I loved her—that was it—plain and simple.

  But if I really cared about her, I’d have to think about what the best thing was for her. Kelly followed her instincts, but that didn’t make it the right thing to do.

  If Kelly did go to U.B.C., it wouldn’t be a disaster. It was a good school, we would know lots of people, and we’d be together. From what I could figure, she’d make the women’s hockey team, no problem. However, it wouldn’t be as good as McGill’s team; that was clear. If she went to McGill, 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?

  I didn’t think she was good enough, and I was pretty sure she knew that too, but I knew it was still something she dreamt about. While most girls had posters of Zac Efron or Adam Brody, Kelly still had the women’s national hockey team on her wall.

  She had confessed to me 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. It’s crazy, because I’ve always been a total team player, but being the person that can make a difference, or even be the game-changer, th
at’s been huge for me. I guess you’re used to it, because you were always the best player.”

  I knew what she meant, but it wasn’t a big deal to me, because while I liked hockey, I didn’t love hockey the way Kelly did.

  Sure, it was getting to be time to give up on that stuff, to grow up, and start planning for the future. I knew a few guys who had been drafted, but nobody around here was a first round draft choice who was going right to the N.H.L. A hockey career was a crapshoot, even for really talented guys, and it had no payoff at all for girls.

  But Kelly was different; she was so innocent and naïve. It was like inside she was younger than everyone else and full of childish 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? Would going to U.B.C. mean giving up her hockey dreams? Maybe she wouldn’t make Team Canada, but she could win a university championship. If McGill was already the third-ranked team that sounded very possible. And there was one guy who went to our school, he got taken in the last round of the draft and he still made it to the NHL. You couldn’t ever give up

  I loved her and I wanted to protect her. Kelly always hated when I did that during games, but I worried that if I didn’t stand up for her, some asshole would really hurt her.

  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. I had skated over and 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 I let her down, that I should have prevented that hit somehow. 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 see 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, I figured 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 I’d have to do it in a way that she’d accept, that she couldn’t be all stubborn and insist on staying here.

  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 together for a long time. But still, it was all too much, too soon.

  I was pretty sure she was scared about going to McGill. Kelly was up for any physical challenge, but she wasn’t big on change. She liked to run at the same time every day; she liked her routine.

  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 since grade four. And then, there was the way she had refused to break up with Nicklas, even 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 had felt 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 kept getting 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.

  Of everyone I had dated so far, Kelly was the only one I could even imagine being with for real. But we were way too young to get tied down now. 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 not the right thing for right now.

  So, for Kelly—and for me—I’d have to figure out a way to get her to go to McGill.

  I didn’t have any time to waste; knowing Kelly, she’d be cancelling and re-applying first thing.

  I went over to her place in the morning. Kelly ran most mornings at the same time, so I waited on her front steps. I saw her first: she was running at top speed, she slowed down to a jog, and then stopped. She was wearing a yellow tank and black shorts, and there was a sheen of sweat all over her. She rested her hands on her hips, then she tilted her head up towards the sunshine. Her eyes were closed and her face was serene.

  Then Kelly looked up and saw me sitting on her front step and broke into a huge smile. For a moment I felt like giving up on the whole idea. We could be together now, stay together at U.B.C., and I’d never have to worry about seeing her with another guy. But I knew that wasn’t the right thing to do.

  “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 right 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 told her.

  “I love you too,” she told me, her beautiful face turned up to mine. “So why are you here? Not that I mind. You want to have breakfast? My mom made her yummy granola. I 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 wanted to talk to you about McGill. I think you should go there.”

  Her face took on a stubborn expression that was very familiar.

  “Look Phil, it’s not up to you. You’re not the boss of me. I want to stay here. You don’t have to 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 in confusion as she stopped talking.

  “Look, Kelly, I had another talk with my dad. He really thinks that having a big scholarship on my résumé would help me get a job when I graduate, even in Vancouver. And he sweetened the deal by offering me a car, so I could drive there and back, and drive around the city when I’m at school. 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 good—an adventure to get away from Vancouver. That’s why I think you should do it too.”

  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 can still keep in touch. We can talk and see each other at Christmas, Reading Week, and in the summer. It’ll be
fine.” I tried to reach for her hand, but she pulled away.

  She sat up straight and looked me in the eye. The sweet joy was gone now, replaced by a steely anger.

  “I get what you’re doing here. You decided to go to Calgary when I said I wanted to stay here. You’ve always been afraid of commitment. I’ve seen you run a mile when your girlfriends pressured you. I thought we were different, but I guess the real difference was that our relationship had a built-in ending: when I went away to school. So you could relax and not have to worry about things getting too serious. But like an idiot, I fell for you and I wanted to keep things going. So now you’re running scared. I get it all.”

  “No, Kel, that’s not true at all. I meant it when I told you I loved you—that you’re the only one I’ve ever loved. I just think this is the best thing, for the both of us.”

  I didn’t know how much to tell her. 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 always wondered what the magic word was that made you break up with all those girls. I actually worried about it. I used to hold back on showing you how much I felt, because I was afraid you’d end it and I didn’t want it to end then. So 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 tried to grab her, but she backed away.

  “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 maybe we’ll have to split up in the meantime, to pursue our dreams. You can play hockey at McGill, like you really want to. Then you’ll move back to Vancouver again, and it’ll be us together. As sweet as it is right now, but for real.”