by Sophia Henry
“That’s right. I forgot,” I said, snapping my fingers. Casey just rolled his eyes.
“Thanks for coming, man. It’s great to meet you.” Casey shook Aleksandr’s hand. “I’m sure Auden told you all about the program.”
“No. The only thing she tells me is I cannot teach English to these kids,” Aleksandr said in his fake broken English.
“Well, I guess she has a good point.” Casey laughed, deep and loud. “What we do here is provide year-round, free activities for children who can’t afford to pay for programs in the community. We have volunteers to tutor, to play, or just to talk with them. We try to make the environment fun. We want the kids to enjoy coming here, so they stick with it and don’t turn to the streets. During the school year, it’s homework first, and they know that, so don’t let them sweet-talk you into going into the gym and shooting balls around until they’re finished. Right, Jessie?”
“I’m working, Casey. I’m working.” Jessie, a nine-year-old boy who’d been part of the program since we’d started it, held up a halfway-completed math worksheet as proof.
Casey winked at Aleksandr. “They’re all good kids. Some of them come from messed-up situations. Unfathomable situations. A few of them eat breakfast and dinner here. It’s something we didn’t offer at first until we saw a need for it. There were kids who were eating one meal a day, the lunch they got at school, because their parents aren’t around.”
Aleksandr’s face went from amused interest to concern and sadness within seconds. Though I knew the situations of most of the kids who utilized the club, every time Casey or I told someone new, it upset me all over. I couldn’t imagine not knowing when I would eat next. I couldn’t imagine my grandparents not coming home for days on end. I couldn’t imagine going to school through it, laughing through it, and playing through it.
The kids attending the Central Club amazed me with their resilience and tenacity in the midst of their everyday struggles. It was a good feeling knowing that the club gave them a place they could get help with homework, have fun, and be safe. And, judging by the record number of people who’d signed up to volunteer, these kids finally had people who cared.
Aleksandr and I took seats across from each other, in the middle of the table where the kids were working on homework. Within seconds, we were both bombarded. Aleksandr might have gotten more attention than I did because he was fresh meat. The kids loved to show off for new people. All at once, boys and girls came up to us, shoving drawings, math problems, and stories in front of us.
Sean, one of my favorite little boys, climbed into my lap and put his arms around my neck, giving me a tight squeeze. I smiled and hugged him back.
“I’m glad you’re here, Miss Auden,” he told me. “I missed you a lot.”
Come on, how could anyone not melt from that?
After Aleksandr and I helped with homework, we walked into the gym that was attached to the church. For over an hour, we played every game imaginable, from basketball, dodgeball, and kickball to jump rope and hand-clapping songs. It was past noon when we said our goodbyes to the kids and to Casey.
“How did you get involved in this?” Aleksandr asked. He stopped to light a cigarette before he got into the Jeep.
“I did a study about after-school activities for kids in my community for one of my first classes. The findings gave me the idea to start the Central Club. The attention and positive reinforcement they get here is something some of them may never have at home.”
“Wait. You started this group?” he asked.
I nodded.
“How did you pay for the building and all the equipment?” Aleksandr asked.
“I applied for a grant. I did fundraisers. It was an insane time, especially with soccer and all my other classes,” I said, shaking my head in remembrance of how stressed and stretched I’d been. “But I wouldn’t change a thing. I learned so much, and since I’ve done everything as part of my major, it’s been really beneficial. My advisor said I probably won’t have to take my capstone class next year. All the work I’ve done on this program would take its place.”
“That’s awesome, Audushka.” Aleksandr squeezed my hand. “I can tell you love those kids.”
“I do. I mean, I can relate to them in a way. I see what could have been if I didn’t have a family that cared about me. They need to know there are people who care. There are people who want to help, want to see them succeed. Maybe if they see that now, they’ll make good decisions in the future,” I answered, blinking a few times to stop the tears. They weren’t angry tears. They were fighting tears. I needed to fight for those kids.
“You are amazing,” Aleksandr told me. “You are an amazing person.”
“I’m not amazing.” I shook my head. “I’m a human being who doesn’t want to see more kids messed up because they were born into a situation that was out of their control.”
“Back to my amazing-girl comment. When we go to service projects in the community, some of the guys on the team complain. They don’t see how helpful even a few hours can be to someone.”
“That’s sad. Those kids help me just as much as I help them.”
“Can I invite some of the guys to come with me next time? Landon would love it.”
“Of course.”
“Want to come over and nap with me today?” Aleksandr asked, squeezing my knee. My body tingled, a reflexive response to his touch.
“You probably need to learn the English words for nap and bed. As your tutor, I don’t really have a choice.” I winked though I knew I should say no, because he needed to rest and mentally prepare for the game.
“No, you don’t. I need you.”
How do you say no when someone says they need you?
“Of course, I’ll come over,” I said, because deep down, as much as I’d tried to deny it, there was one specific reason I wanted to join him for a nap.
I loved him.
And it scared the hell out of me.
—
I was on the edge of my seat for a completely different reason later that night at the Pilots game. My grandparents had seats next to me, as Aleksandr and his teammates took on the Chicago Wolves. I wondered when Grandpa would attend a game to critique me on my translating skills. He’d be in the locker room tonight, standing among the reporters.
After I’d led my grandparents to the locker room, Grandma waited in the hallway, while Grandpa came in after me. I felt like this was some major test. Grandpa was an intimidating figure in general, but I now understood the sheer terror his students must have felt stepping into his office for the oral part of a Russian language exam. My palms were clammy, and perspiration kept beading up on my forehead no matter how many times I wiped it away.
It’s your grandfather. He’s not going to skewer you, I told myself. I just wished I could believe it.
The questions were almost always the same, and I’d gotten into a good rhythm with Aleksandr by now. Thankfully he played it straight and came up with different but similar-sounding responses every time.
The reporter with John Lennon–style spectacles held out his tiny recording device and spoke. “You’ll play your first game in the NHL tomorrow. How do you feel about being called up to Charlotte?”
The world around me stopped. I couldn’t speak, stunned into silence. The only thing I noticed was the reflection of the overhead lights in his stupid, outdated glasses.
Aleksandr was leaving. Leaving Detroit. Leaving me.
Chapter 16
Aleksandr touched my hip, bringing me back to the task at hand. I translated the question for him, hoping my voice wouldn’t shake or crack. He nodded halfway through to let me know he’d understood.
“I am, uh, excited about this, yes. I do not like seeing any guys hurt, but, you know, is chance for me. I get in Charlotte and, uh, do this work hard and I try get my shot.”
I shifted my gaze from Aleksandr’s mouth, which seemed to be silent and in slow motion to the floor, which seemed loud and dizz
ying.
“Thank you. This is all,” Aleksandr dismissed the reporters in English. Shaking my head from the fog, I looked up and caught Grandpa leaving, as the reporters who’d been waiting for Aleksandr moved on to another Pilots player.
Stumbling over a question. Falling in love with my client. Two very good reasons for my grandfather to never let me translate for a human again.
“I’m gonna catch up with Grandpa and see what he had to say,” I told Aleksandr, grabbing my messenger bag from the floor next to his locker and hurrying away.
“Audushka—” Aleksandr called after me.
But I didn’t turn back.
“Nothing is forever,” Pavel Gribov hissed in Russian as I rushed past his locker. I didn’t give him the satisfaction of acknowledging his comment. Mostly because he was sure to see the tears in my eyes.
I exited the locker room and searched the hallway for my grandparents. I found them huddled near an exit door.
“Thanks for coming.” I hugged Gram. Then inched over, hovering near Grandpa, but unsure if I should move in for a squeeze.
“You did very well, Audushka,” Grandpa said. Then he took me in his arms and hugged me tighter than he’d ever hugged me before. “Very well.”
When Grandpa finally let go, Gram reached for me and pulled me into her arms again. “I know it’s hard,” she whispered into my hair.
The relaxing smell of her rose-scented lotion used to be all I needed to calm down, but not this time, not even coupled with being wrapped in her arms.
“I’m glad you came to see me in action. Think I can have a dignitary next time?” I said, lip quivering as I tried to smile through my tears.
“We’ll see.” Grandpa winked, then failed to dodge an arm smack, courtesy of my grandma.
I laughed, both at Grandpa’s joke and Gram’s reaction. I knew she wasn’t angry, because they were like that all the time. Sometimes I wondered how they got through forty-seven years together. Maybe kidding around was the way they were affectionate with each other. I had never witnessed them kissing or hugging. Well, maybe a hug here and there, but nothing passionate. Which was good; I didn’t want to see two old people getting passionate. Seeing it when Gram and I watched Golden Girls reruns was bad enough.
I wasn’t angry with Aleksandr. He’d worked his entire life for the opportunity to play in the NHL. My anger stemmed from my sheer selfishness. My initial reaction hadn’t been happiness for my boyfriend, but heartbreak for myself. I needed to find the courage to swallow my insecurities and tell him how ecstatic I was for him. I didn’t have the right to be peeved with the way I’d found out. He had no obligation to call me when he had life-changing news.
“Sasha should be out in just a minute,” I told them.
As if he’d heard me, the door opened and he appeared. He raised his arm, giving me a big smile.
“Aleksandr!” A female voice called.
Out of nowhere, a familiar bunny, who always hung around outside the locker room, threw herself at him and planted her red lips on his. Aleksandr had turned his head to look for who’d called him, and because of that split-second reaction, her lips didn’t land on his cheek.
Aleksandr pushed the girl away, holding her at arm’s length, dark eyebrows knit over even darker blue eyes. He said something in a loud whisper and she took a step back, her smile disappearing. When she looked at me, her smile returned. Throwing her shoulders back, she flipped her long blond hair and strode toward me. As she passed, she touched her fingers to her lips and smirked, giving me a quick sidelong glance through false eyelashes.
What was that? Why the hell would she think it was okay to kiss him?
Despite hearing Aleksandr call to me, I brushed past my grandparents, slamming my palms into the exit door. I had almost made it out when Aleksandr caught my arm and reeled me back into the arena.
“Audushka,” Aleksandr said in between heavy breaths.
I dropped my gaze, refusing to meet his eyes.
“Good game, Aleksandr Sergeevich,” Grandpa interrupted, clapping Aleksandr on the back.
“Thank you for coming.” The admiration in Aleksandr’s eyes stopped me from lashing out. Knowing how much he respected my grandpa, it would have been beyond bitchy to say anything about the kissing bunny right now. I shut my mouth and pushed my feelings aside. It was as normal as breathing.
“We’ll give you two some time to talk.” Grandpa nodded at me before leading Gram out of the building, guiding her by holding on to her arm. Okay, I guess that was romantic.
Aleksandr closed the distance between us, speaking so softly that I had to lean toward him to hear. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, Audushka. I just found out before the game. There was no time. I swear.”
“Let’s go outside,” I said when I’d noticed a few of his teammates filing out of the locker room and heading toward the exit we were blocking. I didn’t know if Aleksandr wanted any of his teammates to know about our relationship, so I kept my distance.
We got outside and started walking toward the parking lot.
“Please don’t be mad at me. I don’t want to leave you, but I have to go to Charlotte,” he pleaded, holding the passenger door open for me.
“I’m happy for you, honestly,” I told him as we reached his car and I climbed into the Jeep. “And I’m so proud of you.”
And I was. Yes, it was breaking my heart that the opportunity of his lifetime would take him away from me, but I could never be mad at him for that.
The bunny was another story.
“Then what’s wrong?” He paused before turning the key to start the Jeep.
“Nothing,” I said.
We sat in silence while Aleksandr threw his arm over the back of my seat and looked out the window behind him as he backed out of his parking spot.
“Last-ditch effort,” he said.
“Hmm?” I asked, confused.
“She kissed me because it was her last chance to try. It didn’t work. It will never work,” Aleksandr told me, trying to catch my eye before focusing on the road ahead. “Girls like that don’t care who they hurt.”
Guess he didn’t want to play my infuriating “What’s wrong?”/“Nothing” game. Damn, did this kid know me or what?
“Please speak to me.” One of his hands left the steering wheel to clutch one of mine.
“How do I know it was nothing when she just kissed you? How do I know that’s not happening with other girls when you’re on the road?” I asked, looking for a fight. It wasn’t fair, but I couldn’t help it. He started this conversation.
“You don’t. You just have to trust me.”
A bigger person would have said, Don’t worry about it. Those girls are in the past. I know you’re with me now.
I wasn’t that person. I just shrugged.
Aleksandr cranked the wheel to the right, jerking the Jeep onto a random side street. I reached up, clutching the dashboard for dear life. He pulled the Jeep to the curb, shifted into park, and killed the engine before turning to face me.
“I don’t fuck bunnies, Audushka. I barely even talk to them. All I say is, ‘Leave me alone. Not interested.’ I’m sure they get pissed off because I don’t pay attention. That girl took it out on you because I haven’t made it a secret I’m with you.”
Aleksandr continued. “I haven’t had a girlfriend since I was eighteen. She dumped me a week after my parents died because she said I was too depressed and moody.”
I grabbed on to his hand. “You’re kidding.”
“I’m not.”
My face must’ve shown the perfect amount of horror, because he laced his fingers through mine, his thumb rubbing circles into my palm, soothing my tension. “I don’t fuck bunnies. I haven’t even been interested in getting involved with another girl until I met you.”
I felt like an idiot.
“Do you trust me?”
I nodded but couldn’t meet his eyes.
Aleksandr released my hand and reached across me to ope
n the glove compartment. He extracted a gray scarf decorated with black plaid.
I was already wearing a scarf.
Aleksandr lifted my chin with his forefinger, lining up our faces until our gazes met. Then he wrapped the scarf around my eyes and secured it in a knot behind my head.
I didn’t speak. Didn’t know what to say or what was about to happen. I wasn’t scared. I was anxious. Excited. And a little turned on.
“Where are we going?” I asked when I heard the Jeep’s engine roar to life.
“You’ll see.”
“Actually, I won’t. You’ve got my eyes covered up here, buddy.”
“I’m giving you an annoyed look right now.”
I leaned back against the seat, amazed by how my other senses compensated when my sight wasn’t available. The scarf felt like cashmere; silky and snug against my skin. Part of it was resting on the bridge of my nose, and every time I took a breath, I inhaled Aleksandr’s mountain-fresh soap and clove cigarettes scent. I wanted to keep the scarf forever, without washing it or exposing it to any elements that would change its fragrance.
Seconds after the car stopped at what I hoped was our final destination, Aleksandr pulled the passenger door open and scooped me into his arms. He carried me for a few minutes, before he set me down on what felt like a swing. Then he removed the blindfold. I scanned a playground, confused at why he’d brought me to Kerby Field.
“This was where I realized that you were the most amazing, kind, funny, intelligent, and sexy woman I’d ever met,” he told me before I could question his destination decision. “You were so vulnerable, so honest.”