by Sara Shirley
“Hey, I only did that once, and it’s not my fault you happened to walk in on me at the wrong time!”
“Really? You brought back one of the strippers from Promiscuous to give you a private show in my living room, and that’s called the ‘wrong time’?”
“Dude, she was willing to do it for free. Who was I to say no?!”
“Oh my God, how are you even my best friend? I’m going to bed. C’mon, Aspen. Leave Uncle Dave to himself, so he can have his alone time.”
“Damn straight. Hey, Jeremy…good talk.”
“Thanks, man.”
The following morning I wake up to the sound of my alarm clock going off before the sun peeks above the horizon. Stretching my arms up over my head, I roll my legs out from under my nice warm goose down comforter and trudge my way into the kitchen. Turning on the coffee maker, I turn to get dressed for practice while the machine warms up. Coffee is my lifeline these days. Waking up at five in the morning to make it to Boston for practice four days in a row is starting to wear on me, so I can’t function without my liquid caffeine.
I throw on my warm-up pants and lycra top before stepping back into the kitchen to pull my travel mug down from the black open-faced cabinets above the stove. I push the Brew button and then proceed to brush my teeth and fix my rat’s nest I called hair last night before going to sleep. I smell the faint aroma coming into the bathroom of the freshly brewed coffee and already my eyes are widening.
I shove my gear into my bag, toss my phone into my purse, throw on my sneakers, and lastly, take a quick mental check that I have everything before heading out the door. I swing my bag over my shoulder, while grabbing the coffee mug and car keys in one hand and a granola bar in the other. Making my way down the stairs, I pop my trunk to my Audi and toss in my bags. Getting into the car, I hit the button for the garage doors to open as I slowly start to back out. As I’m about to drive off, I see my mother opening the front door to the main house, waving me over. Sigh. Petulant woman. She can’t even walk over to my car. I drive the short distance to the house and roll down the passenger window to see what on Earth she wants now.
“Good morning, Emily. I trust you know that today during practice with Suzy that a group of photographers from the Boston Globe will be by to ask you a few questions about the upcoming season and the Nationals.”
I glance at her like she has three heads, and then it dawns on me that I never checked my emails from her yesterday. Every week on my day off she sends me my schedule. It normally stays the same; however, I never gave it a second thought, and with a major season quickly approaching, I should have remembered.
“I’ll take that as a no, Emily? We’ve got too much at stake this year for you not to take this seriously. I spend all day ensuring your schedule properly consists of adequate training as well as significant PR coverage. Your father donates enough to make sure you are seen and reported as being the next top contender for a gold medal. Remember that you not only have to represent Cameron and Dean, LLC, but also this country.”
Rubbing my face with my hands, I look up to see my mother staring at me with her calculated thoughts before placing her hand inside the door and grabbing the fluted glass filled with orange juice from the foyer table. Nice try, Mother. We all know you slipped an added substance in there. Manipulative bitch!
Just as she’s closing the front door, I hit the button to roll up the window. I hear my phone chime in my purse, as I’m about to throw the car in drive. Who the hell is texting me at 5:30 in the morning? It’s probably my mother requesting I bring home more wine for her to go comatose on during dinner. I’m pretty sure once I moved out of the main house, Mother and Daddy stopped speaking and now basically remain married simply for the social status and image of the perfect family in the skating world. How did I get so lucky?!
As I look at the screen, the name that appears completely takes me by surprise.
Heading up 93 toward Manchester. If you’re up, know I am thinking about you. No, I’m not a sappy wuss, but a song was just on the radio and it made me think of you.
I realize I’m driving on the same highway, just in the opposite direction. I see what’s left of the stars in the sky as the sun begins to sneak over the horizon. Turning on my Bluetooth, I say “Jeremy” loudly as my phone registers my voice over the speaker. I hear it ringing, ringing, ringing. Come on. Answer. I know he has his phone on, or has he already made it to wherever he’s going?
“Hey, there.” A deep voice fills the air in my car.
“Hey, good morning. What was the song?”
A slight chuckle comes over the speaker. “Oh, just a song by The Fray. It was stupid, really.”
“Oh-Kay,” I slowly draw out. I’ll remind myself to look up their songs later since he doesn’t want to talk about it. “So, what are you doing up so early?”
“I’m heading up to Manchester to get started on my conditioning skills because someone told me yesterday that I’m supposed to be in shape. Wonder who that could have been?” I start giggling in the car. “Now, there’s a sound I can never get tired of hearing, although I am a little shocked.”
“Shocked? Why are you shocked?” Did he not want me to call him back? Maybe he’s had time to think about the whole situation with all of us being friends and realizes it is a bad idea. I’m still not convinced this is a good decision, but I called him, so I’ve already started this potential train wreck.
“Well, you see the last time you said you’d call was eight years ago. When you texted me last night and said you’d be in touch, I thought for sure I’d be waiting another eight years. But, Em, I’m happy you called. It’s nice to hear your voice on what could only be described as the most boring drive north ever.”
“Jeremy, I really am sorry I never called you. I just never knew it would hurt you more than me staying friends and then disappointing you down the road. I hope you understand it was just easier not to have me in your life then. The same can be said now, but I’m willing to try because you asked me to.”
“No, Em, I’m sorry. That’s never going to happen.” What the hell? Is he attempting to give me a headache this morning? First, he says he’s willing to fight for me, then he’s thinking about me and waiting for my call, and I actually tell him I’m willing to try to see if this can be real. Now, he’s telling me no. I’m totally confused, and I guess I’ll just let him be and maybe he’ll call me at some point. No, hell no!
“You know what, Jeremy? I was willing to give you a shot, and now you’re telling me no? At what point did I misconstrue your words between yesterday and this morning? You did say you wanted a date. Tell me, dammit, because I’m confused as all hell right now.” I’m not sure at what point that boldness in me all goes to shit, because the next thing I hear is him laughing hysterically. “What the hell are you laughing at, you ass?”
“Em, I’m laughing because you clearly took my words out of context. When I said no, I meant it was not easier for me to not have you in my life then. It’s certainly never going to be easier now if you did the same thing. So, no, it’s never going to happen. I said you’re worth fighting for, and I’m damn well planning on doing that, and you aren’t going anywhere. Got it?”
Sighing with embarrassment, I reply, “Oh…umm… yeah, I got it.”
“So, are you off to training in Boston?” he asks as I hear him shuffling something on his end of the line.
“Yeah, I’ve got a four-hour session with my coach, and someone is coming over to the rink for an interview. I guess my mother sent me the information yesterday, but I never checked my email, so she was less than happy with me this morning before leaving. I’m sure I’ll hear all about it when I get home.”
“I’ve got a few things going on this afternoon, but if you want some company, just let me know. Sue mentioned she was possibly hanging out with Courtney later, too. I’m sure given how quickly you needed to get to yoga yesterday, Sue would want to catch up further, and just so you know, I didn’t mention the
kiss, but I think she suspects something.”
“Jeremy why would she suspect something?” I grumble over the speakers.
“Oh, I don’t know. I might have mentioned something about me not kissing and telling, and then I might have told my friend Dave, who has a very big mouth and is close with Sue, so umm…yeah…tonight…”
“Jeremy!” I scold.
“…I’ll consider that a definite maybe on meeting up tonight…”
“Jeremy! I could kill you right now.”
“…Oh, would you look at that…Gotta go, Em. I’m at the rink…Hey, great talk…Call you later…”
“Jer-”
The sound of a dial tone is the only thing I hear. Oh my God. I want to kill him for saying anything. A first kiss is one thing when it’s private, but it’s another thing to have him tell his closest friend and insinuate it to Sue. I feel sick, but now is not a good time to be sick to my stomach. I nibble my granola bar and sip away at my coffee to hopefully calm my anxiety before I arrive at the rink.
One day. It took only one day for someone to completely uproot my structured life, and I have no idea if this is good or bad. All I know is the sun is rising, and the sky has turned a bright red. Now, I’m no sailor, but I believe the old saying is “Red sky in morning, sailor take warning.” Well, ahoy, Captain! I read you loud and clear. My day is about to go bad quickly; I just know it.
Quickly hanging up from my morning phone call with Emily, I can’t help but notice the smile plastered across my face in my rearview mirror. She’s trying, and that’s all I can ask for right now. No one has ever pushed her to break out of her shell. Calling me and hanging out with us is probably the first real shot she’s had at friendship outside of the skating community. I’m proud of her for taking that step, but a part of me keeps saying she’s going to break my heart one way or another. She’s worth the fight. I keep telling myself this mantra over and over. Please don’t let me be wrong again.
I wasn’t lying when I told Emily that I was at the arena. Although it was fun teasing her about Sue having an idea that something happened with us. The truth is she’s only just slightly suspicious. Knowing Sue, she’ll push me until I tell her the entire story. I can’t say I’m going to lie, but she’ll be one more person working on my side to help push through Emily’s nearly impenetrable walls that she guards. Once those start to crumble, I may just have my chance at what I lost all those years ago.
Pulling up in the arena parking lot, I get out of my F150 Platinum pickup and grab my bag from the bed. As I approach the back entrance, I pull out my security badge and enter the building to the ice level and head back toward the locker room to change into my practice gear. Halfway there, I run into a couple of teammates that I haven’t seen since last season with the Monarchs. We might be teammates, but I try not to get too attached to many of them. Some of them get brought up to the next level of the league, and there are others that get traded. Either way, for me, once they are gone, I already know they won’t be staying in touch. So, for the few that do actually come back the following season, it’s a miracle. Right now, there are five of us that are still contracted from last season. Bryce and Dylan are nice enough friends, and we’ve been known to hit up the town after a few games, but outside of that, I’m really at a place in my life where I’d rather just relax at home. I may be twenty-five, but years of playing hockey and road trips tend to take a toll on one’s body. Broken noses and groin pulls are all fun and games until you’ve had enough of them to know when it’s time to call it a career.
“Hey, man, how was the off season?” Bryce asks.
Looking up and dropping my bag onto the floor, I say, “Summer was good. I spent some time working with the kids in the summer program again at the local rink. It didn’t pay much, butit was fun, and that’s all that matters.”
“That’s cool. Are you still hitting that brunette you met after our last home game in the spring?” Dylan asks while giving me a slight punch to the shoulder before winking at me.
Ugh. Avery. Pretty girl but absolutely dumb as rocks, and although she was a sure thing since she was at least five tequila shots deep by the time we left the local pub, she was in no way, shape, or form someone I wanted to bring home to Mom. The fact that Dylan is asking me now after all this time leads me to believe he’s either still interested or has already hit that after me and doesn’t want to burn any bridges before the season starts. Yeah, he’s the team man-whore and proud of it.
Bursting out a loud laugh, I say to him, “D, she was a stage nine clinger, one I blame on the amount of alcohol consumed that night. Otherwise, there would have been no chance of my dick ever finding itself inside that abyss of a pussy.” As mean as that may sound, the Monarchs finished the season on a very good note, and we were all out living it up a little too hard. Avery was a mistake I can honestly blame on too many shots of Patron and a rather lengthy dry spell from sex in my life. The only things I was thankful for were she never tried to get in touch with me afterward and I at least remembered to use a condom. Something tells me that girl has been around the block a few times from the stories I hear in the locker room.
Dylan laughs after some time, and then as we start walking back toward the locker room, he turns and says, “Dude, you were so fucked up that night I’m just shocked your dick actually worked long enough to make its way into that cum dumpster.”
“You know what? There are so many things wrong with that image I’m just glad I can’t remember much of that night, but the unfortunate part of it is that I can confirm she is not worth the effort.”
After changing into some basic hockey gear in the locker room, the three of us make our way out to the ice and quickly open up with some laps around the rink. Even after the last month or so hanging out at the Forum with the kids during summer camp, nothing compares to the feeling of just getting into the full swing of the season.
Practice at the rink is anything but exciting today. Suzy has me work on some standard runs and different edges going into jumps as we start to test out some new choreography for the upcoming season’s programs. Many times I wish I could hear the music and feel it to the point that the movements come to me naturally. However that may be, it’s not the case. Each movement is calculated. Every edge, spin and jump placed specifically in order to provide me the best chance at receiving the perfect score. I laugh at that perfect score because it will never happen. Not even on a perfect performance. I can go out there and skate my heart out and never falter, but the judges always find something. That something will be the first thing my mother will point out immediately after the competition. Emily, it appears there might have been some minor flaws in your performance today. Regardless if I place first, that is not what’s important in Mother’s eyes. Need I remind you of her alter ego, Cruella Deville? Better yet, I believe she’s now morphing into Maleficent as she gets older. Somehow I think she senses my strong disapproval toward this skating career she so kindly forced me into all those years ago.
After four hours of grueling practice, my love for Les Miserables has now taken a turn for the worse. I know by the end of this season I will hate hearing what has long been my most favorite musical. To keep the audience entertained, my coach and choreographer feel it is important to choose music that has a significant impact on the past year in the entertainment world. Damn you, Anne Hathaway! Never again will your Oscar winning performance bring me happiness. It’s all been tainted after this skating season.
After pulling into my garage, I grab all my gear out of my trunk and lay everything onto the floor to dry. Quickly taking the stairs and opening my door to my refuge, I kick off my pink sneakers and connect my iPhone to the charger before flipping on the surround sound for music to fill the walls of my place. A new song starts, and I’m immediately transported into a whole new place. I grab a bottle of water from my fridge and start moving my hips in the living room as ZZ Ward’s voice beats against the walls. Then, the bounce and finger snaps join in, as I’m lo
st in my own world and happy.
Laughing at myself, I remember my phone has been off since I went into practice. I hit the Power button as I pass it heading back toward the French doors to let some air into my room. There will only be a few more nice days for me to enjoy what’s left of summer. A slight sea breeze begins making its way through the air, and a chill runs up my back as a cloud passes overhead. I really need to escape to a warmer climate one day. I have to laugh at that, but sure, I can certainly dream.
I’m taken away from my mental images of tropical paradises when I hear my phone ding, alerting me I have a text message. I pick up the phone off the table and see the number “2” hovering over the message icon on my phone, indicating two texts. I open the first one from Sue.
Hey! Taking Courtney out for a couple of drinks tonight for her birthday. Just us 3. Thinking the martini bar Eavesdrop @ 7p. It’s a funky little place but they make great drinks. Would like to catch up some more if you are around. Text me back if you are in.
What harm will it do to have a drink or two and reconnect with Sue and get to know Courtney some more? I did tell Jeremy I would at least try. I really didn’t leave on such good terms the other day when I stormed out of lunch because of Jeremy. I might as well have a little bit of fun tonight. I don’t have to be at the gym until three tomorrow, and that’s only for strength and ballet for three hours. How bad can it be? I quickly respond.
Absolutely! I’ll meet you there at 7. It will be good to catch up some more.
Within a few seconds, I hear my phone and see Sue has already responded.
OMG! You are really coming out ?!?! Yay! You totally just made my day, girl!!
What a nut that one is! I made her day. Seriously, Sue needs to make more friends if I’m the one handing out the happy cards. I remember that I still have one incoming text from Jeremy to read. Tapping my inbox, I read his words displayed across the screen.