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CHAPTER8
HASH MARKS
CALLIE
Hash marks are small lines, which are perpendicular to the edge of the face-off circles. Players cannot encroach on the hash mark areas during face-offs.
End of January
I manageto avoid Leo for the next two weeks. It’s not easy, but I fear the conversation so much that I basically make every excuse in the book as to why I can’t hang out with him. I work a lot, spend more time there than I need to, and that leads to drinks with friends while the guys are out of town. I’m thankful they’re on the road but fear their return tomorrow. So after work, I take the girls up on drinks at Fifty/50.
That’s when my night turns to shit, because do you see me on the floor of my bathroom?
Been there all night and into this morning. Over one drink. One beer and I basically threw up my body weight. I drink a lot. I’m not an alcoholic, but that’s what all alcoholics say, right?
I only had one beer.
How can that be?
Your mind is spinning, isn’t it?
Well, look at me on the bathroom floor, hovering over the toilet, still thinking about that beer. That’s about the time I realize my period is late.
Over two weeks late. What. The. Fuck.
It can’t be, can it? I’m on birth control. No fucking way I’m pregnant.
Nah. Don’t think that. It’s probably the stress of everything getting to you.
Hoisting myself off the floor, I go into my closet to pull out some clothes before Ami shows up. We’re going shopping today before we leave for Cabo in the morning, and honestly, this is the last fucking thing I need or to think about. Me pregnant, though? No way. Not possible.
My phone dings with a message, and my heart races, thinking it’s Leo again. Only it isn’t. This time it’s Ami letting me know she’s running late and will be here soon.
I sit on my bed and scroll through the message Leo sent last night.
Leo:Avoid me all you want, but we’re talking tomorrow. Even if I have to tie you to the fucking seat next to me, we’re TALKING!
Every year during the break in the Blackhawks schedule, we all go away to Mexico for a week. This year just happens to fall on the worst month for it. One where I’ve been avoiding Leo, and now I’m not going to have a choice.
Ordinarily, I wouldn’t have gone on vacation with Leo after everything that’s happened, but we planned and bought these tickets over the summer. And with the boys, you can’t just get away one weekend. Planning a long weekend trip with all of us takes months of planning. Cancel last minute, and you’re not seeing another vacation until the off-season.
“What are we looking for?” I ask when we’re inside Crate & Barrel again.
“A new bed. Evan broke ours,” she says without missing a beat.
“Oh.”
I’m not surprised by that. Evan’s kind of an animal at times.
“And I need a bikini for next week,” she adds, smoothing back her shoulder-length hair.
Looking at her now, you would never know a year ago she had been raped and left to die in an alley. What she went through could have destroyed her life, but she doesn’t let it. Given the loss she suffered prior to moving to Chicago and losing her entire family in a plane crash, she understands how fragile life is. Giving up isn’t an option for her.
And now she’s a perfect picture of poised and relaxed, furniture shopping. It’s a reminder that even though shitty things happen, life goes on, and healing takes time, but it happens eventually.
She survived something brutal.
In a way, it gives me hope.