Page 10

tyler

I felt on edge. Halle's little disappearing fiasco had worried me. I knew she hadn't told me the whole truth of where she was. Had she been partying? Why else would she not call Emily or I back? It made me realize how much I didn't know about the blonde girl. I was starting to regret rushing into things so fast with her. I should've waited. I barely knew her. Why had I been so eager to get into a relationship? Could I end it this quick? It didn't feel right. Maybe once we knew each other better.

I liked Halle. A lot. But we were basically two strangers. For someone who claimed they were careful with relationships, I was sure being reckless. I'd lied to her about not having girlfriends in high school. She didn't need to know about that, though. She didn't need to know anything about my home life. Not yet, anyway. I wanted to trust her wholly and completely before I admitted anything about my past. Not that I didn't trust her now. It was just I hadn't known her long enough to entrust my entire mess of a life on her.

I felt terrible for having second thoughts about this. Was I ridiculous for even thinking that we could possibly last over such a long distance? I'd told myself that when and if I were ever to date, I'd want someone close and available for my schedule. Halle wasn't what I had wanted, but the second I'd met her everything had changed. I'd found the perfect girl, but of course things weren't working out the way I wanted them too. I debated talking to her about it over phone. Today would be the best way to do it.

My hand hovered my phone. I was about to be a terrible person. My mouth was dry from nerves. I pressed on her name, pausing before I hit the call button.

"Hey, Ty. Don't worry, I'm home safe now." I let my head drop at the sound of her voice.

"Good. Can we...can we talk?"

"Sure. About what?" Her voice was instantly guarded.

"You're amazing. Like so amazing I don't think I deserve you. And...I want to do this. I really do. It's just...things are so crazy. I don't think...I don't think it's going to work like I wanted it to."

"What? What isn't going to work?" I could hear the note of fear in her voice.

"Us. We rushed and I think we should have thought about this more."

"Oh."

"I'm sorry Halle. I wish—"

"That's fucked up."

"What?"

"You send me clothes and you fly me out and you ask me to be your girlfriend then you tell me out of nowhere that this isn't going to work? I don't understand."

"You're busy...I'm busy. We hardly have time to text, let alone call. It's only going to get crazier."

"You didn't give it time!" Her voice rose in desperation.

"I don't think we should." The words surprised me. The cold tone was harsh. Had they even come out of my mouth?

"Ok, Tyler." She sounded defeated. "But we both like each other. Can we at least stay friends? Nothing committed." I let out a breath of relief. I was going to ask the same thing.

"Of course."

"Good. I'm going to go now. Bye." She didn't give me the chance to respond. After my phone went dark, I let it drop to the counter next to me.

I brought my hand up, rubbing it harshly over my face. I had a bad feeling about what I'd done. But it was the right move. It had to be. I needed to focus on hockey right now.

When I checked her Instagram a few minutes later, the picture from Chicago was gone. My heart was heavy as what I had done dawned on me. Regret was starting to weigh me down. I couldn't let this distract me from the season. I had goals to score and points to gather. I had a rookie season on the line. This was for the best.

I told myself I was doing this for the team. I was freeing myself of distractions. After all, it was my aim to play hard and get as many points as possible this season. I couldn't imagine being able to juggle a relationship and my serious commitment to the game at the same time.

It wasn't just the team. What if the media got ahold of her? What if they tried to pry information about me from her? What if she ended up with people who hated her? It was hard being in the spotlight. I just couldn't do that to her.

My limbs ached for a distraction. I found Kirby in his room, playing some video game. I joined him on the floor, leaning heavily against his bed. He didn't look at me for a moment. When he did, he immediately paused the game.

"What happened to you, eh? You look like hell." I ran my hand through my hair. Did I?

"I'll survive."

"Survive what? What happened?"

"I think I just broke up with Halle." Kirby's eyebrows hit the roof.

"Oh did ya, eh? What the hell made you do that?" I frowned. I opened my mouth to speak, but stopped. A few minutes before, my excuses had seemed perfectly reasonable. But now they seemed ridiculous and weak.

"I...uh. We're too busy. And...I want to focus on playing right now, I guess. She wants to stay friends though."

"Do you? Want to stay friends, I mean?"

"I don't know. Yes, but no. It's just hard, ya know?" Kirby shrugged.

"Wouldn't have a clue. See, I'm not well versed in relationships. And I heard you aren't either." My cheeks grew hot. I looked down.

"That's not entirely the truth. I fucked around with more girls than I can count in high school. Had a new one on my arm every week. Didn't tell Halle that though."

"You told her you never had time for girls." I could feel my roommate's judgement. I shook my head.

"What if I'd said the truth? She'd think I was some douchebag player."

"Sounds like you were, eh?" I grumbled, standing up quickly. "Good talk, eh?" Kirby said sarcastically. I flipped him off before exiting his room.

"I'm going for a run." I called over my shoulder. The noises of the video game resumed. Like I'd said, I suited up for a jog around the blocks surrounding our apartment. I dressed warm enough for the blistering February weather of Chicago, but not enough layers to overheat and get drenched.

As I headed from the building, I let my music fill my ears at a painful volume in order to push my thoughts away. I didn't want to think about Halle or the inevitable pain I'd just caused her. She didn't deserve to be led on like that. I'd been reckless and it had hurt her. Why had I been so stupid?

My feet pounded the pavement relentlessly. Each step tried to dispel my woes and regrets. I couldn't be off my game for tomorrow. I needed to forget about this. I needed to put it behind me.

I paused on a corner, cranking my music and drowning out my thoughts. Like before, I turned my thoughts to the pressing fear of under performing. I couldn't afford that.

Determination flooded through my body. I rolled my shoulders roughly. When I started to run again, I was upright and increased my pace. I focused on breathing, the inhalation replacing the focus on my pounding feet. In and out. In and out. I steadily shot around the blocks until I'd completed a massive circle. My legs slowed their pumping to a walk as I approached the apartment. I felt marginally better from the steady exercise.

Kirby and Adam were sitting at the table when I unlocked the apartment door. They stopped talking when they saw me. I pretended like nothing had happened. Adam rose an eyebrow, looking at me carefully. I ignored his questioning gaze.

"Practice tonight, boys." I dipped my head as I snagged an orange the plate from in front of Kirby. I started peeling the rind on my walk to my room.

Two hours later, I was standing on the ice next to Jeremy and Jon. My face was set in stone, completely serious. I loosely rolled my stick from hand to hand, listening intently to what my Coach and Captain were saying. Jeremy held the clipboard between us, pointing things out with a pen.

"Jon, I'm putting Tyler on first line for the time being. He works well with Kub. Kaner is getting bumped up, too. Him and Tyler work too well together to get separated. That leaves you, Caggs, and Brinsky on second line. We'll come back to defense at the end of the practice." Jeremy tapped the board before pointing at me and then the ice. I understood.

I slid away, taking my spot in the face off center. It was Jon and I, the first and second lines against against each other. We'd go for ten minutes before third and fourth line took our places. I ignored the older center across from me. Jeremy tossed the puck down between us. I ignored Coach as I dug for the black circle. I easily pulled the puck away from Jon, sweeping it behind my back to Duncan. I immediately got into position, knowing where the defenseman would be sending his pass.

Up the right wing the puck sailed, landing neatly on Dominik's blade. I left the winger know where I was, lowering my voice and shouting out my position. He immediately sent the puck in my direction, but the pass was too far too the left. Alex beat me to it, intercepting and turning back down the ice. I went on the defensive attack, following the passes and trying to poke check the puck away.

My second attempt was successful. I sent the puck diagonally, where Connor intercepted it. He carried it up, looking for an open pass. I read Jon's defense, sliding over and drawing both Alex and Erik with me. That left Pat wide open. Connor took the opportunity I'd opened, sending a direct pass to the winger. I was already in front of the net for the rebound when Pat slapshotted the puck. The second it bounced off Corey's pad, I flipped it into the net.

I didn't celebrate the goal. I'd seen every play developing, but it had felt a little sloppy to me. Passes weren't hard enough and they were all over the place. If I was Jeremy, I would have said both lines out looked messy and disorganized. We weren't conditioned enough and we were too relaxed. I looked at Jon and Jeremy, expecting something to be said about the obvious discrepancies in our play. I couldn't be the only one who saw it. When Jeremy signaled for us to reset, I gritted my jaw.

Sliding up to Jon, I hoped he saw the displeasure on my face. I met his eyes, deepening my frown. His look was confused, asking me a silent question. I continued to glower in silence.

This shift wasn't much better. It was mostly the same set up for me to tip the goal it. I was frustrated even more pulling back into the center. Jeremy's whistle pulled our lines off. I started to slide past Coach, but he tapped my shoulder with his stick.

"Hold on Dewalt. And the rest of you." Our two lines stopped, looking at Jeremy expectantly. He pointed at me. "I know Tyler sees it. I can tell how he feels, just by his face. Obviously, none of you other meatheads are able to see how atrocious that was." He waved a hand, motioning at me again. "Go ahead Tyler, tell them what we saw." I blanched under the spotlight.

"Uh. Some bad passing. And—" When Erik shrugged and scoffed silently, I grew angry. "Don't shake me off, Gus. I'm not fucking around. Passing was shit. How do you expect us to score in game when we can't fucking pass, huh? I know it's only practice, but the longer you all keep playing like you don't give two shits about this team, the more we bring that to games. We just played like a beer league team. Hitting the puck like it's going to bite you will only get you in a shit load of trouble. I don't care what needs to be done to improve how you perform. Sprints? How about some suicides?" I was almost spitting. I stopped, wanting to continue ripping the lines but not wanting the hate from my teammates. I caught Jon's eye. He was looking at me carefully, a guarded look on his face. He didn't have the same sour expression that everyone else did. It was calculating, like he had a sharp idea in his mind. I could guess what it was.

I'd just immediately assumed the role of a captain. Granted, I'd gained permission from Coach first, but I knew if I wore the permanent 'C' I would have done it without prompting. Was Jon offended? Was he angry I'd taken over his normal job? I couldn't quite tell.

I pushed out of the circle, ignoring the glares of my teammates. They'd get over it. They always did when Jon told them off. I didn't relax until I was sitting on the bench. My eyes followed the next two lines, noting the differences in play. They must've heard my threats. The passes were better. The speed and intensity was right where it should have been. I particularly watched Kirby. My counterpart was definitely on top of things. Then again, he wasn't off often. He definitely worked well with the wingers on his line.

I rolled my shoulders, readjusting the pads without having to touch them. From the bench, I swept a Gatorade bottle up. My wrist shook a glove off so I could squeeze the bottle towards my mouth. The water refreshed and woke me up more. After I'd consumed a steady stream of water, I dropped the bottle back down, not caring where it landed. A familiar black jersey settled next to me. I didn't have to look up to know it was Pat. He didn't say anything to me. Sometimes that was better than words. Patrick only didn't talk to you if he was severely pissed or impressed. Pat was experienced enough to know I'd been speaking the truth and that the other guys needed to hear it.

We didn't scrimmage again, instead working on Jeremy's drills the remainder of the practice. By the time I was back in the dressing room, tempers had blown over. I left my own anger in the rink as well. There was no point to bring it on the road trip with me. We have four road games. The daunting week ahead seemed impossible. I'd take it in stride anyway.

The team packed bags and got our things ready for the equipment team. I was one of the last guys left in the locker room. By the time I left our familiar circular room, the guys were mostly all on the bus already. I followed Drake up the stairs. I found Dom waiting for me closer to the front. Kubby and I were seated across from Kirby and Adam. Behind us, Alex and Dylan pushed against our seats. I audibly complained at their childish movements, but didn't turn around. If I did, it would only encourage them.

With my window seat, I was able to watch the road flash by. We waited for awhile before starting off for the airport. It felt like hours. I let out a sigh. This was going to be a long week in Canada.