Chapter 21

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It was around 3, Chris's dad would come pick me up later. Our game wasn't too far from home today, but we had to get down to the rink early so we could do all our shit like tape our twigs and run the stairs. I don't really know how much use I'll be, but I should probably get ready and go down there.

"Where's your game?" dad asked when I staggered into the kitchen to make myself something to eat.

"Chris's dad is picking me up," I replied, pouring a can of Alphagetti into a bowl. I scraped leftover pulled pork out of a container from the fridge on top of the noodles and threw it in the microwave. Not like something Chan would make for me. My heart sank down to my knees. I missed her. So much. I felt my throat starting to close. I couldn't let this fuck with me. She's a broad, she's just a broad.

"You didn't answer my question," my dad said. "Can I come watch you play?"

I turned around and eyed him. He was sitting at the table, reading the paper.

"Oh. Yeah, sure, I guess," I said. I detailed the time and place while my bowl spun around the microwave and my brain spun around my head. "I gotta go get ready."

Chris was a beauty, he had already packed my gear up for me and his dad threw me a Gato as we got out of the truck.

"See you in a couple hours," he said.

Chris hadn't said anything in the car about Sam or the arrest, but as soon as his dad was gone, we were walking into the arena, he asked the question I'd hoped he wouldn't. "Have you heard from Chantelle?"

"No," I said, hanging my head. "I tried calling a couple times, I left her a message about how Sam got arrested, but her phone has been going straight to voicemail, so I guess she must've turned it off."

"Shit," Chris said. "Well, I'm sure she's just rattled, she'll come around. It's not like it's your fault that Sam's a dumb bitch."

"I know, I just feel so guilty, if it wasn't for me, she wouldn't be in this mess in the first place. And I'm the one who convinced her that us banging was fine, she thought it was a bad idea. And ... on top of that, my dad seems to think she has a boyfriend, and some guy was over there last night helping her wash the shit off her car."

"What the hell, man, are you serious? You think she has a boyfriend? But .. she's always with you, and you live nextdoor, you think she'd just bring some guy over where you can see him?"

"I don't know, she even told my dad she was seeing someone."

"Wait ... you talked to your dad? Like about everything?"

"No," I replied as we walked into the dressing room. We huddled over on the far side of the room where Sean and Rolly were listening to Beastie Boys and taping their sticks. I filled Sean in on what had happened in the morning.

We went out for warmy, and I rifled a few pucks off. We did the horseshoe drill and got Rolly ready to go. Sean and I sauced muffins, but Chris was on point. "Atta, Mello," I called halfheartedly.

Just before puck drop, as I was sitting on the bench, I looked up into the stands to see if my dad actually bothered to show up, and before my eyes made it to the far corner where he liked to stand, I saw a long brown ponytail and a beat-up bomber jacket. Mel. The hole in my heart where Chan had been felt just a tiny bit smaller. She saw me looking, and nodded at me. No stupid wave, or "Heyyy, Monty!" I nodded back and looked back at the ice. It made me feel a bit better that Mel was here, at least the entire world didn't hate me.

Coach kept me on the second PP unit, and I got another assist. I saw my dad in the stands and he was actually paying attention to the game. Good, at least now he can see what his money pays for.

After the game, we were exhausted. "Do you guys want to go get food?" Sean asked.

"Nah, I'm beat," said Chris.

"Me, too," I said, slinging my bag over my shoulder. I just wanted to go home and call Chan again. Or maybe see if she had come home. I really wished I knew where she was. What if she went back to Quebec and was never coming back? The thought hit me like a sack of hammers.

I was on my way to Chris's dad's truck to throw my bag in the back when I saw my dad pull up in front of the rink door.

"You ready to go?" my dad called out the open window. I looked at Chris.

"Go, man, I'll see you tomorrow at school."

We rode home mostly in silence. "I see Sean's dad has you on the powerplay," my dad finally said. "Looks like you're fitting in well."

"Yep, set up two goals this weekend," I said in a neutral tone.

"I'm off tomorrow, if you want to do something after school," he said.

"I'll see," I responded. "I might go to the gym."

I tried calling Chan again when we got home, but her phone was still off. I didn't bother leaving a message. I did, however, send a text to Mel.

"Thanks for coming to my game"

"No problem, my friends kind of dragged me there. Nice apple."

I sent her an emoji of a grinning face.

Really, though, I just wanted to know where Chan was. I was starting to worry. I wondered if maybe she really was gone. And what about her boyfriend? Chris was right, why would she bring her boyfriend over here, where I could see him? Unless it was her way of pushing me away. But why would she want to push me away? Things have only been getting better. We have real conversations, the sex is outstanding ... maybe she finally realised she can do better than a high school boy. The idea really rattled me, I wanted to punch something. But at the same time, I know she deserves better, so maybe I shouldn't be mad if she found someone who can actually take care of her the way she needs? Maybe I'll go for a walk.

I threw on my headphones and headed out, taking off for a few blocks. When I got back, I wondered if the spare key Chan hid was still under the flower pot. I peeked around me to see if anyone was awake so late, but it seemed that I was alone. I slipped the key into the lock and let myself inside.

The house smelled like coconuts and flowers. My entire body ached and I worried my knees were going to give out on me. I peeked in the kitchen. It was dark, just like the rest of the house. Up the stairs and into her bedroom. Our bedroom. The dark purple walls and the plush comforter felt like a faraway place without her there. The house felt dead with no love inside.

Next thing I knew, I was huddled on the bed, my face in her pillow. It smelled like her perfume, my eyes were wet, my throat was choked up. I just wanted her back. It was terrifying, to be in love. But this little voice in the back of my head snuck in. You knew this was going to happen. This is what women do. "Shut up," I said out loud.

I looked at her alarm clock. It was late and I had school tomorrow, which was going to be a shit show, since everyone was going to be talking about Sam and my dad and all that bullshit. I had to figure out a story and get it to Chris, Sean and the rest of the lacrosse and hockey players, in case people started asking too many questions I couldn't answer about my secret other life.

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