Page 26

twenty-five

. . .

Violet

I enter Westchester’s Ice Arena and walk to my seat, taking in the massive crowd in front of me. Nearly the entire student body is here tonight, which is unsurprising given Westchester is a hockey school through and through. Maybe that was a byproduct of the university being in one of the biggest hockey-loving cities in the nation, or maybe it was just due to the fact that our football team had one good season in the last 20 years, and we were all desperate to root for something worth our pride. I sit right as both teams come out onto the ice for warmup.

It was always exhilarating seeing Mason in his uniform, but nothing could prepare me for Mason in a suit. From the looks of it, Mason had already stress-removed his tie and unbuttoned his collar before his players hit the ice. After filing into the coaches’ section, he shrugs off his jacket to reveal a button-down gray dress shirt that clings to his muscles like a second skin. It was probably 55 degrees here, and the man was stripping down like it was the middle of summer. A stranger settles in the seat next to mine and I do my best to pretend that I wasn’t just ogling the coach. “Vi, is that you?”

I turn to see a face I almost didn’t recognize due to the new beard and the man bun on top of his head. “Mikey?”

A wild smile comes over his face, likely realizing I’m not here for my interest in collegiate sports. “It’s good to see you Vi. Hayesy told me you two made up.”

I never understood why the default for hockey player nicknames was to take a part of their last name and attach a ‘y’ at the end. “Yup. We’re back to being friends again.”

“Ah. Friends . Right.”

“You sound like my mother. Seriously. Just friends.”

“Riiight. Friends wake up extra early every morning to buy their friend’s chai lattes.”

“I didn’t realize buying someone tea was such a big deal.”

“For you it is.” He winks. “I ran into your mom and Melissa yesterday. The two seem really excited about the possibility of future developments.”

“Future developments are for the future. For now, just friends.”

“Oh, c’mon Vi. You’re telling me after nearly two decades of pining you two are just going to…stay friends?”

“I forgot how annoying and meddlesome you are.” I roll my eyes, taking a large swig of my iced Coke.

“I think you mean ‘charming’ and ‘caring.’” He snickers.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“Usually a good book and a rub-n-tug. But let’s say I had a bet going with Bradon on whether you two would get together before or after the New Year. Who do you think would have better odds of winning?”

Bradon was the final member of Mason and Mickey’s trio. He had grown up in Rockport, a town just north of Castle Harbor, and had been one of Mason’s biggest rivals. The two absolutely hated each other growing up but playing on the same team in college seemed to squash the feud. The three of them were practically inseparable after Mason’s freshman year.

“Dalton Michaelson?—”

“Uh-oh, not my government name.”

“There will be no bets about my relationship status. On second thought, I’ll wager $50 for after New Year’s and happily take your money.”

“Alright then. Keep your secrets. Just remember when it comes time for the wedding, I’m gonna be the best man.”

“Oh please, you—” I’m cut off by the arena lights dimming and a highlight reel coming on the jumbotron.

The game starts off slow. Both teams look sluggish on the ice and the crowd’s only bragging right is that Westchester is leading with attempted shots. Mason leads the team back up the hallway, and as they settle into the bench, I can faintly make out his lips moving. Whatever he says lights a fire under their asses because five minutes into the second period, Jake scores a goal, and the arena erupts. My first impression of Jake wasn’t great, and he still complains about how his tutor is a ‘literal drill sergeant’ but he’s been making progress, and it makes me happy to see him get to play.

Boston College tries their best to retaliate against Jake’s goal, but they mishandle the puck and a few seconds later, Westchester scores again. My eyes are locked on Mason as he screams with excitement from the bench, Coach Jameson patting him on the back in celebration.

We are up 4-0 at the start of the third period, and the BC players are getting agitated. While I’ve spent almost my entire life watching these brutes annihilate each other, I’m still a little shocked at the body checks being dished out. Two of our players are limping for god’s sake. I’m thankful I wasn’t there when Mason was seriously hurt.

A BC player illegally rushes one of our players, knocking him into the boards head-first .

“C’mon ref open your fucking eyes! That was a dirty hit!” The crowd follows my jeer with a round of ‘boos’ as the ref refuses to call a penalty. I can see Mason is equally as upset and Coach Jameson makes a move to talk to the ref. I turn to Mikey to voice my frustrations. “What a rat.”

He's nodding his head and grinning. “I forgot how fun it was sitting next to you during games. All that anger at such a young age. It was as impressive as it was terrifying.”

“It has been a while so I’m a little rusty.”

“Remember when our parents saved up to get tickets to the Bruins Canadiens game and you nearly got us kicked out?”

“Just because one security guard gave us a dirty look doesn’t mean we were about to get kicked out.”

“And the drink that was spilled on the Canadiens’ fan?”

“An accident. Obviously. A Coke at TD Garden costs like 20 bucks, why would I intentionally spill it?”

He shakes his head as we turn our attention back to the ice. Westchester answers the hit with a few of their own, and by the end of the game, the players look exhausted as they celebrate their shut-out win.

“Are you coming out for drinks with us?” Mikey asks as we wait for the group in front of us to move out of the aisle.

Mason hadn’t mentioned anything to me. “I don’t want to crash your guys’ night.”

“You’re not crashing, I’m inviting you.”

“Sure, why not.”

Cornwhall’s is packed to the brim with undergrads, so we decide to head to O’Malley’s instead. The local dive bar is a hot spot for grad students due to its close proximity to campus and discounts for Westchester staff. They are also one of the few bars around that carded, which meant no awkward run-ins with any of my students. Mikey and I secured a table near the bar and pool tables. So far, he was two Bud Lights and a tequila shot in.

“What happened to the days where all it took was a single beer to get you buzzed?”

“I’m older now Vi. And no longer conditioning for hockey season. You keep buying me beers and you’ll have to apply for another grant to pay the tab.”

“I already told the waitress you’d clean the toilets to cover your bill.”

“I’ve done worse for less, Vi.” He winks while chugging the remains of his second beer.

I roll my eyes before scanning the bar. I am surprised Mason isn’t here yet. I see a group of guys walking in the front door, Carlos following closely behind.

“Hey Carlos!” I wave my hand in his direction.

Carlos scans the crowd at the sound of his name and a smile breaks out when he spots me. He heads to our table.

“Violet! I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.” Carlos gives me a small hug and his hand lingers on my waist before he settles in the chair next to mine. “I didn’t know you drank anything other than my chai lattes.”

“Ugh I miss your chai lattes. I’ve been busy running participants this week and haven’t had time to drop by, but I’ll definitely be around next week. Carlos, this is my friend Mikey. Mikey, this is Carlos, my favorite barista and manager of the Beanery.”

Mikey sticks out one hand while flagging the waitress over with the other. “Nice to meet you, man.”

“So how do you two know each other?” Carlos gestures between us.

“We grew up together in Castle Harbor. Just outside of Boston.” I clarify.

“I still can’t believe I haven’t made it up there after living so close. How do I book the official Violet Amin tour?”

Mikey gives me a knowing look. “Yeah there’s a lot to love about Castle Harbor. Including the people. Right, Vi? Remember the love?”

“Don’t start,” I warn him before turning to Carlos. Carlos has always been a flirt, but he doesn’t mean anything by it. The charm is good for business. “Castle Harbor’s a super small town. Everyone knows everyone. We’re all one big, dysfunctional family.”

“I grew up in Phoenix and think I had a neighbor named Ray? Oscar? Our community wasn’t all that close. So, what brings you two here tonight?”

“Celebrating the Westchester win against BC. Cornwhall’s was undergrad central, so we decided to come here.”

“Since when are you into hockey?” The surprise in Carlos’ voice pains me a little. Grad school Vi is not as vibrant as she used to be. The idea of me engaging in any social activities would probably surprise the man who only sees me huddled in a coffee shop every day.

“Uh, since always. I grew up watching it. I think most kids in the greater Boston area do. I stopped following it for a little while…but now I’m getting back into it. Mikey actually used to play for Westchester a couple years back.” I wait for Mikey to contribute something, but he seems content just sitting there, almost done with his new beer.

Carlos tries to keep the conversation alive. “Oh that’s cool. So that’s why you went to the game tonight? Reliving the old glory days?”

Mikey perks up, presumably at the opening to bring up Mason again, and offers, “Something like that.”

Carlos makes to slide off the chair. “Looks like you’ve both made your way through your drinks. Why don’t I grab us some more, Mikey another beer? What about you Violet?”

“Hmm. I’d love?—”

I’m cut off by the sound of a pint glass gently being set on the table in front of me, my eyes catching the tattooed arm attached.

“Downeast Cider. Right, Vi? ”

Mikey looks pleased like he’d hoped this would happen. I turn around slowly and see Mason standing behind me. He still has on the gray dress shirt from earlier, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. I have the sudden urge to run my fingers over the exposed tattoo.

“Um yes. That’s what I wanted. Thanks.”

“Carlos, good to see you again.” Mason’s tone suggests otherwise. “Sorry I couldn’t grab you a drink. My hands were full.” He gestures to the beer in his hand and the cider on the table for me.

“Don’t worry about it. I was just heading over to the bar—” Someone shouts Carlos’ name and I look up and see the group of guys he came in with playing pool. “I should probably get back to my friends. I’ll see you later Violet.”

Mason slides into Carlos’s seat taking a big sip of his drink. “So, what did I miss?”