Delayed Penalty: A Pilots Hockey Novel

by Sophia Henry

  “I said, I’ve never fucked an athlete,” Bobby repeated.

  Oh good, now everyone was listening.

  “And I said drink because you’re fucking Varenkov.” Chad saluted me with his beer. I know the guys didn’t mean any harm. They didn’t know Aleksandr and I had broken up.

  “Was. I was fucking a hockey player,” I mumbled, and tried to drop the subject by lifting my beer to my lips.

  “What?” Bobby and Chad asked in unison.

  “Lace, did you remember to get more milk?” Kristen asked, steering the conversation from Aleksandr to our grocery needs.

  Worst diversion ever.

  “I’m single and on the prowl.” I pulled the candy necklace away from my neck with my thumb and shimmied in my seat, feigning excitement about it.

  “You should fuck Brett,” Scott said with a wink. “I hear he’s good.”

  So had I, but hearing Scott say it was just plain comical, since his current girlfriend was the one who’d told me all about how good Brett had been in bed. Lacy had slept with Brett before she’d started dating Scott, of course. It was all so soap-opera incestual in our group of friends. Kristen dated Scott freshman year. Lacy hooked up with Brett around the same time. That had been before Scott and Brett joined the same fraternity and met each other, but still. The guys we knew were like a joint, everyone took a turn and passed it on.

  “Leave her alone,” Brett said, snapping his Heineken bottle cap at Scott.

  “Ow, dude!” Scott winced as the green cap bounced off his forehead.

  I couldn’t deny Brett was hot. Dark blond hair, bronze eyes, a square jaw, and a large, muscular rugby player’s body—what’s not to like? Instead of staring at the rock-hard thighs I’d previously been between, I downed my beer and opened another. The “I Never” game continued.

  Did I forget to mention my being between Brett’s rock-hard thighs before? Freshman year was my wild and crazy, I’m-away-from-my-overprotective-grandparents-for-the-first-time part of my life. I’d been ecstatic when Brett invited me to his dorm to watch a movie. Unbeknownst to me, “watching a movie” was eighteen-year-old boy slang for heavy making out on a lumpy futon. It was the first time I’d ever made out. It was the first time I’d ever kissed a guy. Being nestled between Brett’s hard—but not as hard as their current state—thighs, kissing and exploring, was pretty damn awesome. Until he wanted to go further, and I didn’t. Having his palm on my boob was further than I wanted to go, but I let it happen anyway.

  I spilled every ounce of my guts to Kristen when I got back to our dorm. I couldn’t stop talking about Brett. We made plans A and B for how I should act when I saw him next. We made plans C and D for what to say when he asked me over again. But Brett didn’t invite me over again. In fact, he barely even spoke to me when I saw him in the elevator or dining hall.

  Kristen said not to worry about it. He was a prick for expecting me to have sex with him on our first date. Except that it turned into a bit of a pattern with men. When I thought a guy liked me, I agreed to go out with him, and make out and not have sex, because I wasn’t ready to have sex. I’d even tried a no-kissing-on-the-first-date rule. Same result. The second date never came.

  That’s when I realized it was me. It had to be me, right?

  After we’d finished pre-partying, Kristen and I split from Lacy and the boys because we wanted to hang out at a party at my bandmates’ house. Plus, we wanted to stop at a few places on the way because I needed to find guys to bite the candies off my necklace. It was sad and desperate to need a man, other than Aleksandr, to find me attractive.

  —

  It was almost two in the morning when Kristen and I stumbled in the door of the house my bandmates shared. We’d gotten slightly caught up in parties, and may have taken a detour to have a drink at the Thorne before hitting up the guys’ house.

  Aaron and Greg sat on the atrocious, light green couch littered with gaudy pink flowers. A large, black beanbag sat on the floor between the front door and the couch. I knew it was black because I’d been here before, but I could barely see it at the moment, since Josh and whoever he had pinned down covered most of it.

  “Better late than never, eh, Aud?” Aaron looked up from the guitar he was strumming. It was a relief to be in the company of guys I trusted, rather than a guy who had friends who drugged me and a guy who stopped speaking to me when I wouldn’t fuck him.

  Though I knew the beanbag was there, I still tripped over it on my way to the couch. Thankfully I hadn’t interrupted Josh eating the face off what I’d assumed was a girl, and not a shiny, brunette mop. Taking a huge step to clear the beanbag, I collapsed onto the spot Aaron and Greg had cleared between them.

  “Jesus, Auden,” Greg said, helping me straighten up. “I thought you didn’t drink.”

  “I drink,” I said as I wiggled into the couch cushion. “Just not much. Usually.”

  “Come on over, KK.” Aaron set his guitar on the floor, leaning it against the arm of the couch. He patted his thighs. “You know you want to sit on my lap.”

  “You know it, A-A-Ron.” Kristen laughed but joined us on the couch, avoiding Josh’s love bag by mere inches. She took her spot on Aaron’s lap, as a joke, I think. She’d never mentioned an interest in Aaron.

  My head fell back against the couch and I closed my eyes. I probably could have passed out if the room hadn’t been spinning. I opened my eyes to focus on Greg. “You don’t look as drunk as the rest of us.”

  “I’m not. My mom’s in town. We did the whole dinner-and-a-movie thing.” Greg tipped his beer back.

  “Aww, date night with Mom.” I smiled.

  “Looks like you did well tonight.” Greg pointed his bottle at the few candy rings remaining on the necklace.

  “Not gone yet,” I told him, pulling the elastic string away from my neck and holding it out to him. “Wanna help?”

  Kristen leaned over. “Don’t do it, Greg.”

  I knew she was looking out for me, and I appreciated it. But how could I get past Aleksandr if I never got back into the singles scene?

  “I’m all here, KK,” I assured her, trying to tap my temple and poking myself in the eye instead. “Don’t worry about me.”

  Greg ignored Kristen’s warning and leaned over to bite a piece of candy off, teeth grazing my neck as he nuzzled. It made me tingle. He looked up at me, chewing slowly.

  “Don’t you want to finish me off?” I asked.

  Greg nodded, eyes glowing like a cat’s in the dark.

  I groaned when someone’s full body weight crushed my stomach. Kristen crawled across my lap and situated herself between me and Greg.

  “No!” she said, her head swiveling between us. “You”—she poked Greg in the chest—“don’t touch her candies.”

  “She can do what she wants, Kristen.” Greg pushed her hand away.

  “She’s fucking drunk, Greg. She wouldn’t be all over you any other way.”

  Greg shot up from the couch, his brown eyes narrowed at me.

  “Aw, shit,” Aaron hissed.

  “Fucking drama. That’s all you’ve been,” Greg spat at me.

  “What?” I asked. A giggle escaped my lips.

  “You come here drunk and lead me on, but bring your friend as a fucking cock block. What’s that all about?”

  “It’s just candy, Greg. Don’t get your panties in a wad because I don’t have feelings for you.” I yawned.

  “Your fucking boyfriend punched me.”

  “Dude, stop,” Josh interrupted. He’d unwound himself from his girl but was still sprawled across the beanbag. The girl he’d been mauling stared at us with wide eyes, obviously bewildered a fight had started amid her ecstasy.

  “You tried to kiss me right in front of him!” I stood up, meeting him eye-to-eye. “And you showed him that fucking poem that was none of your business.”

  “Oh, yeah, that was all my fault. The poem you wrote that you blamed me for.”

  “Calm the fuck down,” A
aron said, trying to help Josh defuse the situation.

  “This is fucking ridiculous.” I shook my head. “Come on, KK.”

  “You know what, Auden?” Greg ignored his friends. “We don’t need your drama.”

  “My drama? My drama?”

  “I think we should take a break.”

  “What the fuck does that mean?” Josh spoke up, letting go of his girl this time.

  “Exactly what I said. The band needs a break from Auden.”

  Stunned into silence, I could only stare at Greg. The usually unnoticeable crunch of the beans were deafening as Josh’s girl shifted on the beanbag in the soundless room.

  1. Dad

  2. Mom

  3. Soccer team

  4. Aleksandr

  And this would be major abandonment number five.

  Not that I’m counting.

  Chapter 29

  Incredible was the word that came to mind as I surveyed the almost-finished transformation of a gutted, run-down movie theater in downtown Bridgeland to a beautiful open space that would house the Central Club’s newest branch. After two months of helping me work on the space in their free time, Jason, Kristen, Aaron, and Josh had given up one final Saturday night to help me complete the setup. Just in time for tomorrow’s Open House fundraiser, where we would unveil the Central Club to the community and, with any luck, get some donations to keep it running.

  The ideas that Kristen, Lacy, and I had dreamed up and fleshed out while sprawled across our living room floor or in our booth at Larry’s were finally coming to fruition. Together we’d created a schedule of free classes and workshops for the kids to participate in. The classes ranged from singing (me) and learning instruments (Aaron and Josh) to gymnastics (Lacy), crafting (Kristen, resident Queen of Creativity), and various others to be led by the more than thirty friends and classmates who’d volunteered to teach and tutor. The support overwhelmed me. It thrilled me to have the ability to see this project through instead of relying on someone else, as I had for the Detroit branch.

  “Thanks, John,” I told the cop who’d just set down a second banquet table. I whisked a damp clump of hair off my sweaty forehead and began unfolding the tables and chairs that the Bridgeland police had donated for the homework station.

  Kristen and Jason were creating a sports and games area, complete with a basketball hoop that Jason had installed yesterday. Though we’d post a “No Hanging on the Rim” sign, I sure hoped the stud in the wall could support the weight of the kids who were sure to ignore it.

  Aaron and Josh were setting up instruments on a small raised stage that Greg’s dad had donated. Greg himself wasn’t here. He’d been avoiding me since our dramatic blow up. At first, I thought being ignored wouldn’t bother me, but it did. I missed his friendship and the camaraderie of being in the band. Though Aaron and Josh continued to hang out with me, I missed late-night, jam-and-songwriting sessions with all the guys. There were no romantic feelings, just the loneliness of having been abandoned by something I loved again.

  “Testing, testing one, two, um, twelve,” Aaron said into the microphone he’d just plugged in.

  “You aren’t fucking Eminem, dude. Shut up,” Josh said straight into the mike.

  “Language! We’re in a place for kids,” Kristen yelled from her corner of the room.

  “They aren’t here yet,” Aaron called back, whipping a drumstick across the room. It bounced off the floor and landed on a mesh bag filled with basketballs.

  “You are so lucky that didn’t hit me,” Kristen warned.

  I chuckled at their exchange because it was the same kind of banter I had with the guys. It made me giddy with excitement to have a sibling. Jason and I had missed the wedgie-attack and big-brother-helping-me-open-my-combination-lock-in-high-school stage, but he was all I had, and rather than push him away like I would have done in the past, I’d hold on to him and make future memories.

  And he would be mine, and he would be my Squishy. I mean, Jason.

  “Dude, we gotta get to Wreckage.” I heard Josh say. I had a feeling it was supposed to be for Aaron’s ears only, but he was standing next to the microphone, so his voice traveled.

  “Do you guys have a gig?” I asked. I was curious. Okay, I was jealous, too.

  “No.” Aaron punched Josh’s arm before he jumped off stage. “We’re checking out a friend’s gig.”

  “Oh.” I nodded. Aaron wasn’t a good liar. It was my fault I was “on a break” from the band, so I didn’t have the right to be upset. Well, I did, but I couldn’t show that I was.

  I rounded the table, pushing the chairs I’d unfolded underneath, then unraveled a maroon tablecloth and shook it out.

  “It looks fucking ridiculous in here,” Aaron said, grabbing the free end of the fabric and pulling it toward the opposite end of the table.

  “Yeah. It’s pretty good compared to when we started.” I set my hands on my hips and inspected the reformed room.

  Jason had helped me patch holes in the walls and paint the entire place. Lucky for us, the theater owners disposed of the seating years ago. All the tattered blue-and-gray-striped carpet needed was a vacuum and a deep cleaning. A friend of Uncle Rick’s who owned a carpet cleaning business graciously donated his services.

  Kristen and I had scrubbed and bleached the bathrooms, which were in good working order otherwise. Since the theater closed fifteen years ago, the owners rented to various groups, and because of the constant activity, there wasn’t as much to do as there could have been if the place had sat empty all that time.

  Aaron swept me into a hug. “Great job, Aud.”

  When he let me go, Josh did the same thing, except he lifted me off my feet and spun me around before letting me go. “I’m so proud of you.”

  It was impossible to keep the smile off my face because the transformation of the space, as well as the Central Club, filled me with pride.

  “Thanks, guys,” I said, lifting my eyes to the ceiling. Though I was ecstatic to be filling up with happy tears, rather than thinking-about-Aleksandr tears, I still didn’t want everyone to see me cry.

  “Don’t make her cry, Dickweed!” Aaron chastised Josh. I laughed.

  “We gotta get going, but we’ll be here tomorrow,” Josh told me.

  Aaron nodded. “Bright and early to help eat the food.”

  “Help put out the food, you mean,” I said.

  “That’s what I agreed to? Well, that blows.” Aaron winked and threw me double finger-guns as he and Josh rushed out. Wreckage was three doors down, so it wasn’t like they’d be late for whatever they had going on.

  “It looks great in here, Aud. This is gonna be so awesome,” Kristen said.

  “What’s left?” Jason asked, standing beside Kristen.

  “I think that’s it. I just have to take out the trash and—”

  “Hey, Aud,” a voice behind me interrupted my train of thought. When I turned around, Greg stood in the doorway, his hands stuffed into his skinny-jean pockets.

  “Greg,” I said. His presence was a complete surprise.

  “Can I?” He nodded toward the threshold.

  “Yeah, of course, come on in,” I said, glancing at Kristen. She just shrugged.

  “I came to apologize for being such a jerk.” Greg was slow, almost cautious, like he was trying not to wake a baby. Then he stumbled over a can of paint sitting on the floor, and I laughed.

  “Sorry.” I held my fist in front of my mouth.

  “I totally planned that,” he said, nodding to the paint can. He chuckled before continuing. “I’m sorry for everything, Aud. I’m sorry I was such a dick about Aleksandr. I’m sorry I’ve been too stubborn to accept your apology. I’m sorry I kicked you out of the band.”

  Despite acting like a jealous jerk, Greg was a genuine, positive guy. Until his jealousy of Aleksandr reared its ugly head, he’d never said anything hurtful about anyone when I was around him, and he always wanted to help me get better. In that regard, I knew his apolo
gies were sincere, and I appreciated it, but hearing Aleksandr’s name reminded me of the heartache I’d been trying to suppress for almost two months.

  He continued, “I’ve been a total dick, and I don’t—”

  “Everything About You” by Ugly Kid Joe filled the air. I looked around, creeped out by whatever weird-ass theater ghost would choose that particular one-hit wonder to spook us. I didn’t realize it was a ringtone until Greg reached into his back pocket and pulled out his phone.

  “Who has that song as their ringtone?” Kristen asked.

  “Who even knows that song anymore?” Jason agreed.

  “It’s not,” Greg started to defend himself, and then shook his head. “I gotta get this.” He turned his back to me. “Yeah?”

  I glanced over my shoulder at Jason and Kristen, lifting my palms and shrugging my shoulders in total confusion. Kristen rolled her eyes and shook her head, her disgust for Greg’s disrespectful actions apparent. Jason just shrugged.

  Suddenly Greg spun around and held his phone out to me. “It’s for you.”

  “Aaron?” I asked. What did he want to razz me about now?

  Greg didn’t answer. He just thrust the phone at me. When I looked at the screen expecting to see the name or number of the caller, I realized it was a video call. A girl I’d never seen in my life smiled brightly from Greg’s smartphone screen.

  “Hi, Auden!” she said. Then her head turned sideways for a split second and I realized she’d adjusted the phone. It looked as if she was standing among a large crowd of people. A guitar strummed in the background.

  “Hey.” I returned the girl an über-excited fake smile, before lifting my questioning eyes to Greg.

  “Just watch. You might learn some stage presence.” He winked before I could pout.

  I’d gotten better with stage presence over the last three months. He’d know I’d been practicing if he would’ve let me back in the band earlier.

  The video scanned the crowd quickly before settling on a stage. While trying my hardest to get a glimpse of the band, the phone swung back around to the girl, and I huffed.