Bracing the Blue Line

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Bracing the Blue Line Page 11

by Lindsay Paige


  “Please, go do that. I'll catch you later, Grant. I have pictures I need to edit.”

  My stomach grumbles. “Hey, do you want to grab something to eat with me?”

  “I'm not really hungry, but if you don't mind running me by my dorm for my laptop, I'll go with and do my edits while you eat.”

  “Great. You can wait in here while I shower, if you want. I'm the only one left, so it'll be fine.”

  She follows me into the locker room and takes a seat on the bench near my locker. I remove my skates as she pulls out her phone to text someone. I almost want to tease her that she's probably texting Patrick to let him know, but I don't. A few minutes later, I'm heading to the showers for a quick wash.

  When I return, fully dressed, Lucy has her head down, most likely flipping through some of the shots she took tonight.

  “Ready?”

  She looks up with a smile and stands. I grab a few of my things before we head out. Not much is said as we run by campus for her laptop and then drive to a fast food place. Lucy goes on to grab a table while I order. Her eyes are trained on her computer screen when I take a seat.

  “Did you get some good shots?” I question.

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  “You guess?” I raise my eyebrows at her.

  Lucy sighs and talks while I eat. “I kind of feel bad that my photos are actually really good because y'all lost. It almost makes me want them to be terrible.”

  “That good, huh?” She turns her laptop around to show me how good they are. And I mean, they are fucking fantastic. “Wow, Lucy. What sport are you wanting do once you graduate?”

  “I'm not sure anymore. I enjoy baseball, but I was set on football because of my brothers and I did like it more. But now...” She stops like she's thinking it through.

  “You like hockey that much or you don't like any of them anymore and you want to try a new sport?”

  Lucy looks up at me from her laptop. “I like hockey that much.” A grin quickly appears on my face. Before I can add anything, Lucy continues, “There's something about it that football and baseball don't have. It's highly physical, but somehow almost graceful. I might not understand most of it, but I'm still drawn to it more than the others.” I nod, understanding what she means. “What do you want to do after college, Grant?”

  I clear my throat before answering, “I want to be a history teacher.”

  She doesn't even look surprised. “That makes sense. You were reading a historical fiction book that day in the library, right?”

  “Yeah, I was. I've always loved history, so I think being a teacher would be a good fit for me.”

  “Hey, Luce,” Jonathan says as he walks up to our table, a girl on his arm. He sends a subtle glare my way. “Grant.” Hey, at least he acknowledges me before focusing on Lucy again. “Surprised to find you here.”

  “You're always surprised, Jon,” she laughs. Lucy turns her attention to the girl. “Hey, how are you? I haven't seen you in a while.”

  “Pretty good,” the girl answers. “We'll have to get together sometime for a girl's night out or something.”

  “Yeah, sure.” Lucy nods.

  “All right, well, I just wanted to come say hey and tell Grant to make sure you get back to campus safely.”

  God, I hate this guy. “I'll even tuck her into bed, if you want, Jonathan.”

  Just as I figured, that pisses him off. Lucy stands, hugs him, and kisses his cheek before he can respond. “I'll see you later, Jon. Love ya.”

  “Love ya too, Lucy,” he replies before turning and walking away.

  Lucy starts giggling once he's out the door. “That was funny, but you made him mad. I'm glad he left though.”

  “Why? I thought you loved your brothers?”

  “Oh, I do, but he's ridiculous sometimes and I don't like his girlfriend.”

  I raise my eyebrows at her. “Really? Didn't y'all plan to hang out only a second ago?” Okay, I'm officially confused.

  “Yeah, but it won't ever actually happen. That's my brother's girlfriend and unlike them, I try to be polite. He won't stop dating her because I don't like her and I wouldn't want him to either. So I smile and get along with them regardless.”

  Nodding in understanding, I ask, “What don't you like about her then?”

  “My brother could do better,” is all she says.

  “Are you coming with the team this weekend?” A change of subject is needed, it seems, because Lucy doesn't look like she's going to say more.

  “Yeah, I'll be there,” she answers with a smile.

  MY PARENTS ARE going to be at one of my games this weekend since Thanksgiving is in two weeks and I'm not coming home for dinner. This isn't new. I usually stay here for the holidays. Sometimes, I'll go to the Lanier's. Anyway, I've been thinking about what Audra said, but something is holding me back. It's not a conversation I want to have right now, but I still have to have dinner with them, which is why I'm walking into a restaurant. Maybe I should go ahead and tell them.

  “Hey, son,” my mother smiles when I find their table and take a seat.

  “Hey, Mom, Dad,” I lift my lips at them.

  “We went ahead and ordered a salad for you,” she says.

  “Thanks.” Not that I wanted a salad, but it'll work.

  “That was one hell of a loss the other night,” Dad starts the conversation with a glare from my mom because he cussed. “I hope you've regrouped for tonight's game.”

  “Yeah, we have. It wasn't our night, but we're ready to come back and win.”

  “Neil,” my mother rests her hand on my arm, “are you getting enough sleep?” She lifts her thumb to brush under my eye. “You look a little tired. You aren't overdoing it with hockey, are you?”

  “No, Mom, I'm not. It's been a busy week, that's all.”

  She nods and lets it go. Surely, I don't look that bad. I slept the whole ride here. Mom is probably imagining things. She's where I get my worry from. And that makes me think about Audra. I manage small talk with my parents, the conversation staying on school and hockey and their jobs. They don't ask if I'm seeing anyone or what I'm doing in my spare time. School and hockey are all we talk about. That has been the limit of our conversations for a while now. Not like I can place all the blame on them because it's my fault too.

  Memories swirl around while I try to stay focused. But it makes me anxious, especially when my dad says something about asking for the bill, so we can leave.

  Clearing my throat, I figure this is it. “Actually, I need to inform you about something before we go.”

  They glance nervously at one another and Mom says, “You know you can tell us anything, Neil.”

  Yeah, okay. We'll see. I haven't forgotten what happened the last time they said that. “I've, um, not been the nicest guy lately, in terms of girls. There's been a lot of them to, uh, be a notch in the bedpost, I guess. Anyway, a girl showed up not too long ago and she's six months pregnant.”

  My mom looks like she's seen a ghost, her eyes wide, and her face pale. Dad almost looks pissed with his lips in a firm line, but otherwise, he's expressionless.

  “You didn't find out immediately?” he asks. I shake my head. “Are you sure it's yours?”

  “She says it is, and I believe her.”

  Dad shakes his head. “You need a paternity test, Neil. You don't need to take care of a kid that isn't yours. There doesn't need to be any doubts now or down the road. If she won't do that, then we can get a law-”

  “She's willing,” I interrupt, annoyed with his tone.

  “What's her name? Maybe you should come home this year, Neil, and bring her so we can meet her,” Mom finally speaks, though her words are seeped with uncomfortableness.

  “Audra Garcia.” I glance at my watch, purposely ignoring the rest of what my mom said. She doesn't really mean it anyway. “I'll talk to her about the test, Dad. I need to get back to the rink, though.”

  We quickly wrap things up with reluctance and relief from my p
arents, and once I'm back at the arena for pre-game warm ups, I call Audra for the second time today.

  “Oh, look, it's you again,” Audra chuckles.

  I roll my eyes at her. “How are you doing?”

  “The exact same as the last time you called, but I've had a cramp or two in my legs since. I've actually taken Sunday off from work because I want to lay around and be lazy all day.” She sighs and sounds a bit more serious. “I'm exhausted, Neil.”

  “Well, make sure you rest then. I'll be by sometime Sunday, okay?” I want to add that we need to talk, but it can wait until I actually get there.

  “Yeah, that sounds fine.”

  Bo, Winston, and Grant are walking my way, so I wrap up my conversation. “I need to go. See you later, Audra.” As soon as she says goodbye, I hang up.

  “You're looking secretive, Neil,” Winston laughs. “Got a girl we don't know about?”

  “Nope. Y'all ready for the game?” I ask as we all begin heading to the locker room to change.

  “Of course,” Bo answers and the others nod.

  We all catch sight of a black-haired girl by the locker room door. “Isn't that Lucy Kennedy?” I ask Grant.

  “Yeah, she traveled with us because the paper still needs coverage. She rode over here with all of us. Where have you been?” he jokes.

  “Lost in my head, I guess,” I mumble.

  Lucy smiles once we reach her. “Hey, guys. Hey, Grant.” Looks like he gets his own special greeting.

  We all reply back to her, but go on into the locker room. Except Grant, of course. He stays behind to talk to Lucy. As we change into our gear, all of our other teammates are already in here. Grant walks back in, muttering something under his breath before he starts to change.

  “I need a favor,” he finally says.

  “What does Lucy want you to do now?” Winston laughs.

  Grant throws his glove at him. “She doesn't ever ask for much,” he retorts.

  “At least she didn't ask you to go buy tampons,” I chuckle, directing my gaze to Winston, remembering that I saw him in the store. My comment drags laughs from everyone as they start picking on Winston, who glares at me.

  Once they calm down, Bo returns the conversation to Grant. “What does she want?”

  “Some shots with a couple of us before the game. Particularly, you, Neil, Winston, and Vincent. She said it'll take like two seconds.”

  “She can catch us on our way to the ice, but it better be quick. We don't want to piss Coach off. I'll let her know. I need to go find Coach anyway.” He mentioned he wanted to speak with me, so I better do that now that I'm dressed.

  Grant says thanks, and I step into the hallway to let Lucy know before going to find Coach. He's in a little office nearby, jotting down some notes.

  “Hey, you wanted to speak with me?”

  He smiles and says, “Yeah, have a seat for a moment.” Once I do, he continues. “You know that I keep a close eye on all my players.” I nod, wondering where he's going with this. “Instructors send me any red flags if they want me to be aware of something out of the ordinary. A few of your instructors have informed me that you've turned in a few assignments late and Bo said you're working a night job. This coming after you almost started a fight with Winston during practice, I wanted to see what's going on.”

  If I was standing up, I would be pacing. “I was out of line that day with Winston.”

  “I know,” he interrupts. “I don't want any stalling, Neil. I want to be informed on my players, so let's hear it.”

  Sighing, I run a hand over my face. “I've gotten a girl pregnant, so things have been a bit stressful since I found out. I'm working, trying to get to know her better because I didn't really know her before, and I got a little behind, but I'm caught up now.”

  He nods in understanding. “How far along is she?”

  “Six months now.”

  He nods again. “Well, make a schedule to manage your time better. You don't need to get behind on homework. Keep me updated, Neil.”

  “I will.”

  “Good. Go get everyone and meet me on the ice.”

  I do that, gathering the guys for Lucy's picture. She wanted us together and smiling and then quick individual shots. It took longer than two seconds, that's for sure. Thankfully, Coach doesn't say anything to us. With a deep breath, I step onto the ice, focusing solely on what it'll take to get a win.

  I GRUNT AS a guy slams me into the boards. Son of a bitch, these guys are killing me. My legs work on double time to push me forward to regain possession of the puck. There's two minutes left in the third and we're tied 1-1. I'm tired and not one to normally complain about hockey, but I'm ready for this damn game to be over. I steal the puck and pass it to Neil, who passes it to Vincent. He passes it to Bo, who ends up giving it back to Neil to slap it in!

  Thank God.

  We've got a lead.

  Now, we need to hold onto it for a little bit longer. The puck travels down the ice towards Grant, who's ready and waiting. He's been killin' it tonight. This team we're playing against has been hounding him, testing his every ability, waiting for him to slip up. And he's only slipped once. We regain possession and get the puck away from him as the seconds countdown, leading to the buzzer.

  I bump my stick against Grant's leg in congrats as we head back to the locker room. He especially seemed to need this win after the loss the other night. Although, he did seem fine once Neil talked to him. The room is buzzing from the win, but I'm too tired to be a part of it. Faintly, as I change, I remember what Maddie told me before I left, so I send her a quick text.

  Me: How are you doing without me? Here's your chance for a half-naked pic! Lol

  Her reply is almost instant.

  Maddie: Going to go with no pic. I might orgasm on the spot. ;) Bahaha

  I laugh, shaking my head with wonder at her. She's not sticking to our plan. Friends aren't supposed to say things like that.

  Me: True. I'm a damn good looking hockey player.

  Maddie: Speaking of, y'all win?

  I reply that we did.

  Maddie: You won & I got a B on my test! :D How are we going to celebrate? ;)

  Could a winky face be deceiving? I want to punch myself as soon as the thought passes my mind. This is the problem with texting. There is too much room for misinterpretation. Is it a harmless, little sign of flirting or are there dirty thoughts behind that wink? Or maybe Maddie is just a winky face addict. That is the second one she's sent me in this conversation.

  Me: How do you want to celebrate?

  There. Now she can tell me her intentions. While I wait for a reply, we load up onto the bus, heading to our hotel for the night. Grant, Neil, Bo, and I are all sharing a room. Bo seems to be in his own world, Grant has snuck over to Lucy's room for a bit, and Neil has stepped out to make a phone call.

  “Who does he keep calling?” I ask. Normally, I wouldn't care, but Neil has been almost suspicious behaving, and it's making me curious.

  Bo shrugs. “If he wanted us to know, he'd say something, you know that.”

  I guess. Neil doesn't hide anything, but he doesn't go out of his way to share it either. Funny how Bo included himself into that “us” when I'd bet my life that he already knows what's going on with Neil. Something is up. He's gone more than usual, makes secretive phone calls, and is working his ass off.

  “He's not gotten himself into any trouble, has he?”

  Bo finally looks at me from his channel surfing. “No. You're starting to sound like Grant with all your questions.” He chuckles and resumes flipping through the channels.

  Neil comes back in, his face tight, looking a bit concerned. Remembering Bo's comment, I don't ask any questions. Neither does he. Neil grabs a change of clothes and disappears into the bathroom. Grant walks in with a smile on his face.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” Bo jokes.

  “Did Lucy show you her appreciation for fulfilling the favor?”

  Grant cu
ts me a look that could kill. “Shut the hell up.”

  “Someone's touchy about their girl,” Neil comments, coming out of the bathroom.

  “She's not my girl,” he defends himself, making us laugh.

  Neil shrugs. “Could be worse. You could be like Winston.”

  “Will you stop with that?” I wish he had never seen me in the store that day.

  As Neil goes to lay down, he surprises the hell out of all of us. “Fine. I give you props for buying tampons for a girl you aren't even dating. You should be proud of it actually.”

  He's stunned us with what he said. I don't think any of us knows what to say. He turns off the lamp, so we begin to change for bed as well. Maddie finally texts me back, and I read what she said.

  Maddie: I've always wanted to have a campout in the backyard.

  Seriously? I text her back and tell her to count on us doing that one day soon before I settle in for the night.

  LAST THING I expect to find when we get home on Sunday is Maddie sitting on the front porch steps. She smiles when she sees us and the guys go in ahead of me. I sit next to her on the steps.

  “Hey,” she says.

  “Hey. What are you doing here?”

  “Depends.” Maddie looks a little anxious as her knee starts bouncing like it did that night on the bench.

  “On?”

  “If you have plans today.” When I shake my head, she blows out a steady stream of air like she was holding it in. “Then you're hanging out with me.”

  I grin. “You aren't going to ask if I want to? Did you miss me that much?”

  Maddie glares at me, stuffing her hands into the kangaroo pocket of her hoodie. “Don't be an ass, Winston. I need a Madea day again. So are we going to freeze our asses off or watch some movies?”

  Standing, I hold out my hand to her. She takes it, and I pull her up before leading her inside. I keep her hand in mine as we walk to my room, Neil and Bo heading out for their Sunday routine.

 

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