by Claire Adams
It was amazing that we could drive and drive and drive and somehow still seem to be so far away from the campus. We joked about Johnny’s tactic of going as far away from home as he could without leaving the state, and I told him that I was selfishly glad that he hadn’t left the state, since it would make it much harder for me to chase after him. “Not to mention that if I went out of state, and you didn’t, it’s not like we’d have ever met.” I had to agree that that was right.
I had a lot to think about as Johnny and I made our way up the highway. I had to wonder if the news had already covered the extraordinary press conference that Johnny and Mr. and Mrs. White had given; I wondered if everyone at the school was aware of the facts now. I could only hope that it would have already become old news by the time we got there. Of course, I couldn’t hope with any real confidence. I had no idea how many journalists there were in the Whites’ lawn, but I thought that even if CNN had been there, the campus would take a long time to stop talking about it. Johnny and I would just have to deal with that. We both knew the facts, and we both knew the reality of the situation. I thought I could bear the lingering interest in Johnny with a little better fortitude than I had without him. I hoped so, at least. “You could let me drive,” Johnny pointed out when I complained about how far we still were from campus. It was less that I had an issue with the distance and more that I was concerned that Johnny would miss suiting up for the game and it would be all my fault.
“My dad is already going to kill me for going on TV without a lawyer present or his say-so,” I said. “Forget the fact that I didn’t even say anything, he’s going to be pissed I was even there.” I grinned. “If I told him I’d let you drive the car on top of that? He’d cancel my card for sure.”
Chapter Seven
After what seemed like an eternity, Johnny and I finally arrived at the stadium, and I pulled right up to the front entrance to let him out. I was exhausted, but I knew that there was absolutely no way that I could avoid seeing this game — I had to support Johnny. “You should have some seats at the front reserved at the box office,” Johnny said to me as we approached the huge building.
“You didn’t even know if you were going to be playing,” I pointed out. “You didn’t make any calls other than to your coach and your mom.”
“I put you on the list for all of the home games, with a guest. I figured Gigi is cultivating her interest in the game, too,” Johnny said. I rolled my eyes and told him to hurry up and go in. Johnny reached out and gave me a quick, passionate kiss, unbuckling his seat belt with one of his hands. “I love you, Becky,” he said, and I found myself smiling like an idiot.
“I love you, too,” I said, blushing more than a little. I watched Johnny immediately close the door and head into the stadium, raising his hand to the security guard as he dashed through the door. I chuckled to myself, thinking that anyone who could go from being that upset to running like a kid into the stadium to get ready for the game was more resilient than I was.
I wandered around the stadium parking lot at a crawl, trying to find somewhere to park. I knew that Johnny and I had cut it close. He was only barely going to have enough time to get his gear and jersey on before the team had to go out onto the ice. I shook my head, thinking about the fact that Johnny had always seemed to be able to get away with anything — showing up to classes late, skipping classes, cutting out early to meet me to walk me back to the dorms. I was actually looking forward to the game for the first time since I had met Johnny; I had just accepted that hockey was going to be part of my life for as long as I dated Johnny, but I was starting to appreciate that it was a major part of his life. I wanted to understand it better. I wanted to understand him better every day.
I finally found a parking spot way in the back of the lot and sighed. There wasn’t anything closer. There was no way I’d be able to get away with walking less than a mile to get into the building. I was so tired from all the driving I had already done that it didn’t even seem fair. But I reminded myself that it was the college championship; the game would be extremely popular. People who hadn’t come out for games before in the regular season would come for a championship game. I got out of my car and hoped that I at least would have a chance to get something to eat; I realized that the only real meal I had had so far that day had been breakfast. Gor lunch I had only grabbed a quick bag of chips from the gas station I was filling my tank at. I walked stiffly, wondering how Johnny had been able to spring out of my car so fast and started up the long walk to the entrance once more.
I was relieved when I saw that Georgia was waiting for me; I had texted her updates just as she had asked me when I’d embarked on this harebrained scheme to find Johnny, and I had told her we were coming to the Championship. I had already been so exhausted, but I knew that I couldn’t possibly let Johnny down, not after everything he had been through. Georgia was leaning against a stanchion, and as I approached, she waved, grinning at me. “So, you look happy,” she said, putting her arm around my shoulders.
“I have driven I think a hundred miles today. I am not happy. I am exhausted. But it should at least be a good game,” I said, staggering alongside Georgia.
“It’s always a good game when Johnny plays,” Georgia said. I rolled my eyes.
“Don’t you go chasing after him, too.” Gigi shook her head.
“Nope. He’s all yours. I don’t know if I could have dealt with all that crap as well as you did.” We went to the box office and I gave them my name; true to Johnny’s word, they had seats reserved for me — right behind the glass, where Johnny loved to see me watching him play. Georgia and I stopped at the concession stand, which I knew was mostly a rip-off, but I was starving and tired. I got coffee and a couple of hot dogs and fries, and decided that that would keep me afloat while I watched the game.
Georgia and I got to the stands and started talking about the whole crazy trip. “I caught part of that press conference!” she said. We were careful to keep our voices low, since there were so many people in the stands behind us.
“It was intense,” I said, shaking my head.
“It’s obvious Johnny really loves you,” Gigi told me, nodding solemnly.
“I know he does, but what brought you to that conclusion?” Georgia grinned.
“I could see him looking at you every few minutes, like he needed to see you to keep going. He’s totally gone on you. You’re so lucky. You met the love of your life the first day you moved in.”
“Hold up, hold up,” I said, laughing and shaking my head. “We don’t know that he’s the love of my life. We’ve only been dating for a couple of weeks!”
“Oh, please. You’ve been through hell together and you didn’t run away.” Georgia poked me in the ribs, nearly upsetting my large coffee. “If you can do that after only dating a few weeks, you’re going to be together forever.” I rolled my eyes.
“Don’t jinx it, okay? We’ll just take things how they come and see how it all plays out.” I thought about everything that had gone on between Johnny and me; I had been so scared so many times since we had first met. I had not known what to think about Johnny — whether he was a good guy or some kind of sociopath, whether he was a player or someone I could trust. I had gone from being convinced he would never truly be interested in me to having a fight with my parents over him and standing at his side at what had to have been one of the most difficult moments in his life.
I had told Johnny about the fights I’d had separately with my mom and dad about what they had done. He had laughed at the fact that I’d cursed both of them out, telling them that I would never forgive them. I told Georgia as we sat waiting for the game to get started; she had known I was upset, and she had known that I had expressed my upset at both of my parents, but she hadn’t known the details. It felt good that it was all behind me, though I knew that it was likely that my parents didn’t look at it that way. They probably thought that I had been absolutely terrible and that I should apologize to them over and
over again for how I’d “overreacted.” But they had very nearly ruined Johnny’s life. I didn’t feel any regrets over what I had said to them.
I was so tired, even as I slurped down coffee, that I wanted nothing more than for the game to be over. I was gradually starting to appreciate hockey, but I didn’t think I would ever fully love it for the sake of the game. I would enjoy it because it was something that Johnny loved. I just wanted Johnny to get out there and score points, and I wanted the game to come to an end with us winning, and I wanted to go back to the frat house with Johnny — or maybe sneak him up to my room in the dorms — and make up for all the lost opportunities of the past several days. I fidgeted in my seat; as tired as I was, the prospect of sleeping with Johnny was definitely a powerful one.
I looked around and saw that there seemed to be an awful lot of journalists covering the championship. I knew that championship games tended to merit more attention than regular in-season games, but this seemed like a lot of reporters for any kind of college game except for at best, one of the major college football rivalries. I knew that Johnny’s press conference, the whole situation with Claire White and the resolution that that had come to, had a lot to do with it. I could only hope that the reporters minded their manners.
As Georgia and I sat and talked and ate, we pulled up more information on hockey and she started quizzing me. “I don’t even know why I have to go through with this,” I said. “Johnny knows I’m not some, like, hockey super-fan.”
“But you need to be able to talk to him about something he loves. Come on, he’ll appreciate it, I promise.” I knew Gigi was right, but that didn’t make me any more interested in learning things about a sport I’d only recently developed a passing interest in. As long as Johnny was on the ice I’d be into it, but I didn’t think I’d ever really know the differences between any of the professional teams unless Johnny went pro. And I didn’t think I would particularly care. I would cheer for whatever team Johnny liked and devote brain cells to something else that actually mattered in the grand scheme of things.
But Georgia was right; Johnny had done so much for me — he had loved me passionately, he had been so wonderful to me on so many occasions, he had tried to protect me from the pain that he was dealing with. I could afford to learn at least to know what he was talking about at any given time when it came to his favorite sport. It wouldn’t kill me to know more about Johnny’s position on the ice or what he might get fouled for. I was so tired and so ready for the game to start — we had sped down the highway enough to make it so that we got to the stadium with apparently more time than we had expected for Johnny to get ready. Or maybe they’d delayed for another reason. I wanted to curl up in Johnny’s arms and press my cheek to his chest and feel that safe, warm feeling once more. I had no doubts in my mind at all that Johnny and our team would win; they had won every game I had ever seen them play before. The possibility that they might even struggle a little bit hadn’t really occurred to me. “Ah, here they come. Come on, Becky, let everyone see you cheering for your man!” I laughed at Georgia, but went along with it; I cheered for Johnny as he came out, and he glanced up at me, a happy look in his eyes once more. That look was worth every bit of the fatigue in my bones.
Chapter Eight
Within moments of the team taking the ice, I realized that this was not going to be the great, winning game that I had believed it would be. The reporters were shouting for Johnny, taking pictures, and I heard some of them turning to camera and making statements about Johnny’s past — about the rape and suicide of Claire White, about the press conference he had given a few hours earlier. On the ice, Johnny looked like a spooked horse at the sight of the reporters and photographers.
When the team started to play, it was difficult for me to watch; where normally Johnny was all aggression and focus on the ice, he didn’t seem to be able to concentrate. I remembered that he’d floundered just a little bit on one previous occasion — when everything had been great between us and he’d kept looking up at me in the stands. Some of the students watching the game shouted jeers, and I shivered; I would be even more distracted than Johnny was, and he was pretty distracted. I looked around. It wasn’t fair — it wasn’t right. There out to be rules against press trying to hound a player at a time like this. “What’s wrong with him?” Georgia asked me as quietly as she could.
“It’s all the hounding. Some of it’s even people from the school,” I said, pointing out one or two girls from the campus who were waving signs proclaiming Johnny to be guilty. I shook my head. Johnny had explained what had happened. Claire’s own parents had come out with what had happened in that horrible incident. It didn’t make sense for people who want Johnny, and the team, incidentally, to lose.
One of the other team’s players hooked Johnny’s skate with his stick, and I yelped in dismay and surprise as the man I had seen evade dozens of hits on the ice sprawled on his front, moving several feet before he gathered himself up. It wasn’t right — there was something wrong. What could anyone do for Johnny?
“It’s like before,” Georgia said, “when he was too busy paying attention to you to pay attention to the game, only it’s worse.” I nodded, chewing at my bottom lip. I didn’t think they could kick Johnny out for not winning a game, but they could find other reasons, I was sure, if he was off his game. And it would not do his reputation any good to lose a game just now. I cheered for Johnny with all my heart, trying to overcome the jeers, trying to understand what was going on. I thought that maybe Johnny was still shaken up by the press conference, but he had seemed so on top of everything, so confident. He didn’t exactly look unconfident now. He looked distracted.
I was shocked as the other team scored its first goal a few minutes into the first period, followed quickly by another. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Johnny’s team always won — he had said so. But Johnny kept missing his shots or kept getting intercepted. I grabbed onto Georgia’s hand and held tight, watching in amazement. All of the guys were struggling. None of them knew how to deal with the game with Johnny not on the top of his strategy. They had counted so much on Johnny being able to out-play everyone they ever went up against that they floundered around, always a minute — a second — late to where they needed to be, hesitating just a moment too long.
Of course, the fans for the other team were thrilled; they had expected at best an exciting game and a loss by one point. By the end of the first period of the game, the other team was up by three points. I couldn’t believe it. I wanted to be angry at the goalie, but I knew that it was the whole team that was struggling to deal with the situation, especially Johnny. If he had been scoring the way he normally did, if he had been acting like his usual brash, impulsive, aggressive self, he would be keeping the other team so harried and confused that they wouldn’t have any idea of how to get in to score. “What the hell is going on with him?” I asked Georgia in confusion. “It doesn’t make any sense at all.” Georgia shrugged. I looked around me in disbelief, and I saw the girl who I’d been having so many problems with — the redhead from the dining hall, who had had no success with getting Johnny to herself. She caught my gaze and smirked, looking directly at me.
I frowned. I looked at Georgia. “Do me a favor,” I said to her. Georgia looked at me in confusion.
“What do you need?” I pointed to the redhead.
“Hold my seat. I feel like I might get kicked out for a little while.” Georgia laughed as I stood up, walking slowly and deliberately over to the redhead. As I walked towards her, more of the people in the stands noticed I was there in the first place; I guessed not all of them had been paying attention. I took a deep breath. I didn’t want a fight, but I was good and tired of the girl. I wanted to have it out with her once and for all; and as I had told Georgia, there was a good chance that it would get me kicked out, though I was pretty sure I could convince them to let me back in since I was Johnny’s girlfriend. I hoped so, anyway. “Hey!” I said, calling to her before
I walked up the couple of levels to her seats.
“How’s your loser boyfriend treating you? Has he done you like he did Claire White yet?” I crossed my arms over my chest and held the redhead’s gaze levelly.
“You know,” I said, looking her over, “I would think that if you really believed that Johnny had had anything to do with that, if you thought he was capable of hurting and driving a girl to suicide, you wouldn’t want anything to do with him.” The redhead blushed. “So I gotta think that you’re of the belief that it’s more important to get rid of me than it is to do something that might actually be good for Johnny. Sort of a ‘if I can’t have him, no one will,’ am I right?” I spoke loudly enough for the people nearby to hear, a few feet away from the girl. Someone giggled.
“You’re not woman enough for him!” the redhead said. “Besides, I don’t want him anymore.” I snorted, rolling my eyes.
“I think you want him bad. But here’s the deal, sweetie: you don’t get him. In fact, even if he left me tomorrow, you wouldn’t get him because he doesn’t go for backstabbing rumor-mongering bitches with a jealousy complex.” Someone — I thought it was one of Johnny’s frat brothers — hooted appreciatively. “So I’m going to warn you this one time: you ever say anything to me about Claire White, if I even hear her name from you again, I am going to make you regret it.” I turned on my heel and went back to my seat, shaking. I wasn’t a very violent person, but in that moment, I was more than willing to punch that stupid girl out if I had to.
As I sat down again, the game went into the second period and I sighed. It was starting to look hopeless, absolutely hopeless. Johnny made one goal and then the other team pulled ahead again by another point. We were a consistent two or three points behind, all the time. It wasn’t good. Normally by this point, we were at least keeping the other team from scoring any points, even if we had only a one or two point lead. It was unheard of for us to be behind. It never happened — at least, that I knew about, and everyone else seemed to be almost as shocked as I was, if not more so.