Hooked: A Hockey Romance

by Abby Donne

  There was nothing from Tyson. Not even a quick ‘got here safe’. What if something happened? What if they got into an accident or something happened during the game? She hadn’t bothered checking her social media since she got to the hospital; it was tasteless and she had no need to scroll through post after post. But did she miss something? Surly someone would’ve texted her if something happened. It wasn’t a secret she was dating Tyson.

  Like she thought him into existence her phone rang, a picture of him just days ago at the pumpkin patch filling her screen. She didn’t hesitate to answer.

  “Tyson,” She breathed, her voice cracking. How was she crying again?

  There was silence on the other end and she thought maybe she imagined the call but then his voice came through. “Baby…”

  There was so much emotion in those two syllables she felt her heart shatter even more.

  Layla didn’t know what to say. Surly he read her texts by then, and she didn’t want to speak the words out loud again. Didn’t want to say Emma tried killing herself to one more person. So she curled up on the chair, the metal arm rest digging into her thigh, and cried into the phone.

  “Layla,” Tyson said after a few seconds. His voice broke. “Please stop crying.”

  “I’m sorry.” She sucked in a wobbly breath. Asking him to come to her was selfish and risky but she couldn’t face the hospital anymore without him. Just the thought made her want to puke. “I’m sorry. I just really needed to hear your voice. I need you. I know this weekend is important for you but I really need you, Tyson. I don’t want to ask you to come home but I need you so much it hurts and –”

  “Stop, just stop okay?” That whole thing about her heart shattering when she heard his voice? It was possible for it to break more. In that moment she hated him more than she loved him. Never did Layla want Tyson to have to pick between her and hockey. She knew what he would pick. His breath was ragged and she waited for him to break the news to her but all she got was a weak, “Is that what you really think about me?”

  “W-what?”

  “Jesus, Layla. We’re on our way right now. Me and Heath. It’s a four hour drive but we’re on our way. Did you really think I would be mad at you for asking me to come home? That I would stay and play hockey knowing you were alone in a hospital hurting?”

  She wanted to say it wasn’t her hurting. Wasn’t her lying comatose in a hospital bed. Maybe not but she was still raw. She couldn’t get the image of Emma’s blue skin out of her head. The words of her note pulsed so loudly against her brain she found it hard to think of anything but the sloppy ‘I’m sorry. Sorry that my actions are going to cause so much pain to people I care about. I have burdened you enough. Sorry I can’t pull myself together. I can’t do it anymore. Mom, Dad – I love you. This isn’t your fault. Layla – I love you. Thank you for trying to hold me together. Heath – I love you. I hope you understand. Please stay strong’ would forever be etched into her memory. Layla was there when the paramedics arrived. When they found the pulse Layla missed. She was there when they pushed Narcan through Emma’s system. She saw her best friend’s limp body strapped down. As much as she didn’t want to admit it because it was Emma who was truly hurting, Layla felt hopeless.

  “The scout,” She started, but it felt stupid even saying the word.

  If their roles were reversed wouldn’t she drop everything and run to Tyson’s side?

  “I love you. I fucking love you Layla. I will always come for you, okay?”

  She was stunned. Tyson loved her? This whole time she’d been terrified it was hockey versus her, not even allowing herself to entertain the idea that maybe he wanted them both. That maybe it was possible for him to get his dream and for her to get hers. She planned for the end right from the beginning, telling herself the heartbreak would be worth it… but they didn’t need an end, did they? It wasn’t ever an option, but it wasn’t like they hashed out a written agreement before they started dating.

  Even when she realized she was in love with him she never let herself get too far ahead of herself. Layla respected Tyson too much to force him to put her over his plans. He was destined to do big things.

  “Tyson –”

  “Not right now, okay?” He cut her off like he knew what she was about to say. “Heath wants to talk to you. Are you okay with that?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I know you won’t go home, but try to calm down for me. It’s driving me crazy knowing I’m not with you right now.”

  “Please drive safe,” She whispered. She wasn’t going to tell him her crazy imagination cooked up visions of their bus flipped over on the side of the road or the ice arena burned to the ground, but the last thing she wanted was them speeding and getting into an accident.

  “Always. I love you. Here’s Heath.”

  “Layla,” Heath said almost immediately after. Tyson hadn’t exactly sounded calm, but Heath was positively unhinged. “Tell me what’s going on. What did they say? Is she awake? What did she take?”

  It felt wrong to talk about Emma over the phone when her parents were a few seats away, quietly consoling one another and trying their best to ignore her phone call. Did they know about Heath?

  “Her parents are here,” She said quietly. If her sobbing hadn’t captured their attention the mention of their presence sure as hell did. “She’s not awake yet. I don’t – I don’t know much else. I’m sorry.”

  He growled, “What do you know?” There was a pause, a grunt, and then, an apology. “I’m sorry. I just… I should have been there. Last week I found some percs in a bag in her bathroom. I threw them out, and when I confronted her she said she wasn’t taking anything.”

  “It’s not your fault,” She said softly, drawing her knees up on the chair. Heath – I love you. I hope you understand. Please stay strong. Layla would never tell him what the note said, but she knew he would shoulder the guilt regardless.

  Instead of acknowledging her he muttered, “Call if anything changes before we get there.”

  He hung up without a goodbye. Layla took a breath and turned to Emma’s parents. They weren’t alone in the waiting room anymore. A tired mom and a sleeping toddler had taken residence in the far corner. In less than four hours Tyson and Heath would be in the waiting room with them, too. Despite not wanting to do anything other than curl up in her seat and wait for Tyson, she also didn’t want Heath to fly off the collar when he showed up and scare her parents.

  “Did Emma ever mention anybody named Heath to you two?”

  “Is that her boyfriend? Was he on the phone?”

  “I don’t think they were dating,” She said honestly. It was wrong to talk about this. So wrong. She felt like she was violating Emma’s trust. “But she is special to him. And um, he… she wouldn’t talk to me about him, really. I know he loves her. He’s been there more for her than me this year. I’m sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Grubber. I should’ve –”

  “Emma pulled back from us over the summer,” Her mom said, interrupting Layla. She smiled a little and dabbed her wet cheeks. “I just thought she was nervous about graduating and applying to grad school. She hasn’t even signed up for the GRE yet. When she said she wanted to study art history we were so worried. What kind of job market is there for that? We’ve pushed her so hard the last few years about loans and jobs and God, I never once thought it would end like this.”

  “Kathy,” Her dad muttered, rubbing her back.

  Did her parents not know about Nolan? The baby? Layla wasn’t going to be the one to spill the news if she hadn’t already, but come to think of it Emma’s parents didn’t visit after the miscarriage. They had to know, right? She spent time in the hospital so that meant there was a bill. She never thought to ask Emma how her parents thought about everything because their opinions didn’t matter, just Emma’s.

  Again she was struck with the thought…

  If she’d been a better friend would this have happened?

  Despite thinking she’d never be ab
le to fall asleep under the circumstances Layla must’ve dozed off because one minute she was sitting in the chair staring into space and the next she was swept up in Tyson’s arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed him. Hard. If he was a dream he’d go poof and she could go back to sleep.

  “You’re a sight for sore eyes,” He groaned into her hair. It was followed by a chaste kiss to the cheek, and when Layla finally pried her eyes open he was staring at her with a tenderness that made her want to crawl inside his skin. “Layla…”

  “I love you.” If there was anything that needed to be said it was that. She’d known with the utmost certainty that she was wildly in love with Tyson since their afternoon in the pumpkin patch. With a little less certainty from the afternoon with his family. And with a bit of an inkling from the first night in his backyard when they sat side by side during the party and he linked their pinkies. “I love you, and I’m sorry I haven’t said it yet. I’ve just been so afraid of losing you. Tyson, I never want to get in between you and hockey. I thought I’d be okay with you leaving but I’m not.”

  “Shh.” He gave her arm a tender squeeze and kissed her a little less innocently. “I’m not going anywhere without you.”

  She didn’t even care if he was lying; it was what she needed to hear. She hugged him tighter and let out a shuttering breath. She didn’t feel like she could cry anymore, but she felt the moisture on her cheeks before she heard herself sniffling.

  “Are you okay?” He murmured.

  A loaded question. She was fine. Sleep deprived. Achy. Emotional raw. But she was okay. So she nodded against his chest. “Better now.”

  It took a few seconds for Layla to recognize the noises in the background were voices. A voice, particularly, one she recognized. And it was getting more and more agitated as the seconds ticked on. She slid her eyes across the room. Looking like he was on the edge of a break, one that would end up with him getting kicked out of the hospital, was Heath. He was locked into an argument with Emma’s dad.

  She jumped up out of Tyson’s lap and rushed over. She reached for Heath and grabbed his arm, but he shrugged her away.

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about!” Heath snapped. His eyes were bloodshot, and his hair was thick with what looked like sweat.

  “My daughter was not a drug addict.”

  “She’s still alive motherfucker.”

  “Heath, stop.” Layla tried grabbing his arm again. It caught his attention this time because he looked over. “Calm down or they won’t let you see her when she gets up. Come sit with me and Tyson.”

  He looked like he was going to fight her on it but after a second he nodded and followed her over to her section of the uncomfortable little seats. Both of them looked like hell; they had just played a grueling game and then drove four straight hours to a hospital so she didn’t expect them to look much better. Hell, she was pretty sure she had puke on her shirt somewhere because she kept getting phantom whiffs of it throughout the night.

  They sat in silence for a while. Honestly she was surprised Emma’s dad didn’t try having Heath removed from the hospital.

  “You said she left a note,” Heath finally said.

  Layla cleared her throat. “Yeah.”

  “What did it say?”

  “Heath,” Tyson interjected. He squeezed Layla’s hands. “Maybe not right now.”

  “I need to know what it said.”

  “It’s not important,” Tyson countered.

  “It is.”

  “We can talk later, okay?” She suggested. She didn’t ever plan on telling him about what the note said. She sure as hell didn’t want him to know how bad Emma was, how she looked, how Layla thought she was dead. Thank God she sucked at finding a pulse. She had a feeling he wouldn’t stop until she shared the horrors, though, and Layla didn’t want to hash it out any longer than needed. “Maybe in the morning after we sleep a little bit.”

  The unspoken if Emma wakes up hung on the end.

  She was exhausted, but she didn’t think sleeping in the chair a second time was going to happen so she nuzzled up closer to Tyson and asked in a low voice, “How were you able to leave the game?”

  “It’s not important.”

  “It is. Are you in a lot of trouble?”

  “No.” He kissed the side of her head. “Don’t worry, okay? I talked with Coach. It’s fine. I’m going to update him in the morning. I texted him when we got here.”

  “Did you win tonight?” She asked. She meant it to be a joke, but really Layla wanted to know.

  Despite looking like he could sleep for twenty four straight hours Tyson winked and said, “Of course.”

  A few hours brought sunlight. The three of them grabbed Starbucks at the in hospital café and took a breather outside. Being outside made Layla realize isolating herself in a waiting room wearing her wrinkled, puke stained clothes running on zero sleep probably wasn’t the best plan. Still, the thought of leaving and having Emma wake up when she was gone made her want to stay. She was pretty confident her parents wouldn’t let her in to see her when she woke up but Layla wanted to be there. It could be her sleep deprived mind talking, but she had a feeling just her presence there would help Emma, even if she was stuck in a waiting room.

  Yeah, it was definitely the lack of sleep.

  The caffeine only seemed to make her more tired, but somehow Layla managed to stay semi-alert until Emma’s parents came back out into the waiting room. Sometime around eight they were whisked away into her room. Now five hours later they were there, eyes a little more puffy than before.

  Emma was awake, semi-stable, and after talking with her parents and the hospital staff she wanted to see Layla.

  She had no idea what to expect when she followed Emma’s parents through the hospital. She sure as hell didn’t expect to see Emma strapped to a bed. She was pale as a ghost, her skin still almost blue. There was a nurse milling about the room, doing nothing but fiddling things in the cabinet. He was obviously there to make sure she didn’t harm herself again.

  “Emma,” She breathed. She wanted to rush the bed, but the nurse turned around and gave her a nasty stare so she inched over and sat in the chair pulled up next to the bed. Her throat was raw and she was crying before she even hit the bedside. “Oh my God. Emma.”

  Layla wanted to ask why but it seemed redundant and not important anymore.

  “I’m sorry,” Emma sniffled. She wiggled her head a little. Pieces of hair stuck to her face, stuck to her tears.

  Even with the overbearing nurse hovering Layla reached over and pushed the hair back and dabbed at the tears she couldn’t reach. She was, after all, strapped down to the bed. “Calm down. Don’t apologize.”

  “I never wanted you to see me like that. I didn’t know what I thought would happen. Who would find me. I wasn’t thinking. I’m not stable, it seems,” She said it with a little laugh. One that turned into a big sob. Even through Layla’s own tears she tried shushing Emma, but she cut her off and said, “I meant to do it. My parents… all morning they kept telling me I didn’t mean to but I did.”

  Layla had hours to think of all the warning signs she missed. There were days that stuck out like a big neon sign. The hangovers. Sleeping in. The mood swings. The glassy look in Emma’s eyes here and there. But there were other days, the ones where they ate gummy worms and watched Netflix or went out on coffee dates, that stuck out just as much. Good days. Ones that calmed all those fears that started to creep up when she thought maybe there was more going on. Never did she think Emma was popping pain pills or suicidal.

  “It’s okay. I’m here. Heath and Tyson are out there –”

  “Heath’s here?” Emma said, frozen in place.

  Layla nodded. She was a little hesitant to admit, “He’s going a little crazy. I’m surprised he hasn’t been kicked out yet.”

  “I want to see him. Like, now.” She looked over at the nurse then back to Layla. Her already pale face seemed to mimic the translu
cent shade it had when she was found, her eyes sunken in a bit more. “After I talk to the police and a case worker I’m being transferred to an in-patient ward here for a few weeks. You know, so they can make sure I don’t try to off myself again.”

  “Don’t talk like that,” Layla muttered, rubbing a hand along the bed.

  “Sorry,” Emma winced. Her features softened for a second before they were back on high alert. She seemed so tired when she asked, “Can you please tell my parents I want to see him? I need to talk to him.”

  “I’ll tell them.”

  Again, her face morphed, but now she was crying. Sobbing big fat tears that made Layla’s chest tighten. “I was supposed to drive and visit Jackson today. God, Layla. Heath gave me his paycheck from the bar and I spent it on a bottle of fucking percs instead of getting groceries for his brother.”

  The bar? So Heath wasn’t doing anything shady. Why not just say that? Regardless, it didn’t matter. She inched her fingers up and squeezed Emma’s hand.

  “I’ll go get him right now, okay?” She stood up and gave her one last awkward hug, whispering a, “I love you. Stay strong, okay?” before disappearing out into the hall. Emma’s lurking parents had probably overheard the entire conversation but she still told them Emma’s request and was surprised when neither put up a fight.

  She wasn’t surprised, however, to see Heath pacing the waiting room like a caged animal. He looked up as soon as she walked in, like he had a sixth sense, but before he could say anything she walked straight over to him and wrapped her arms around his body. After a second he hugged her back. There was so much tension in his body she wanted to cry all over again.

  “They’re keeping her,” She said. It was the only thing that felt right and even then she wondered if it was the best way to breech the subject.

  “I figured,” He muttered, voice rough. He dropped his arms from around her and she reluctantly stepped backwards.

  “She wants to see you. Her parents gave it the okay.”