Chapter 15: I Told You Not to Do That

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~Eleanor~

Tonight's game is against the Sudbury Wolves. The last time we played against them, we lost miserably. They were everywhere while our players didn't seem to know how to skate. Coach Freeman was so mad after the game that he made every player stay after for an emergency practice. I remember Ben coming home as tired as he could be, his muscles tense and tight and his eyes closing the second his head hit the pillow. I had to give him many massages to rid his body of the accumulated tension. I knew tonight's game stressed him out more than the others. As captain, he wanted to give a better performance than last time. My own stress has gone down since we are off to a better start tonight. Even if it's only been ten minutes since the first period started, we are already more aggressive than last time. Two players tried to score, but the Sudbury goaler is very good, but so is ours. Gregory Lebel is a new player with only one year of experience with the Spitfires, but you could easily say that he has Ben's experience. He has one of the best statistics reports in the Ontario Hockey League. With only fifteen goals allowed, he is fourth in the Ligue. But it is Ben that I am worried about for tonight's game. As of now, is on his best behavior, but you never know when something could anger him. Ever since he spotted me in the bleachers, he plays like he is trying to show off and I hope it stays that way. I have spotted two men in the bleachers who were taking notes during the game. Since they're probably recruiters, it would be best if Ben did a good impression on them.

Nothing much happens during the first period, but things start to become more interesting when at the start of the second one, the Wolves' captain pushes one of our players allowing us two minutes of numerical advantage. Fred Blouin, the defenseman, gives Ben the puck and I can already see him score. The line to the goal is straight, no one has seen him. He picks up the pace when a player from the opposite team starts to go after him. He is in front of our team's bench when he slows down a little. He turns his head towards on the opposite, and I don't know what he sees but he starts skating again, fast. When he is about twenty inches away from the goal, he slaps the puck. It would've been a perfect hit, right into the opening left by the goaler in the right corner if it would've have been five inches lower. I see the puck flying into the air to end its course into the glass wall behind the goaler. I hear everyone boo him, but I am not disappointed, I am furious. He missed on purpose. I know it. Ben's slapshot is perfect, even more so with conditions like those. He was alone in front of the net, he was skating at just the right speed to confuse the goaler, going from left to right. It was impossible for him to miss a shot like this. A goal with no aid would've looked really good on his stats report especially during his NHL draft year.

I look down at the bench where he is now sitting. The coach is talking to him, but he doesn't seem to be listening. His eyes are focused on the VIP glass room on the other side of the ice. I turn around to see what he sees, and I immediately understand. He chose option two: ruining his NHL chances to piss off the guy who tried to have sex with me. I can't see clearly anymore, everything is red. I have to wait until the next break to go yell at him, and I can't help but think of the words I want to say to him. His coach keeps him on the bench until the bell rings. When I hear the sound, I grab my purse and head straight to where the players leave the ice. I am waiting for him leaning on the rail and I know he saw me. He takes his time making him the last player to exit the bench. I start blurting out my well-rehearsed words as soon as his eyes meet mine.

"What do you think you're doing? What was that Ben? You had a clear shot for a goal with no aid and what did you do? You messed it up to get back at an asshole? Do you really think he cares about that kind of thing?" People around us started to pay attention to what was happening. It's not every day that a girl screams at a player during a game. "You really messed up. Not for him, but for you. You did exactly what I told you to not do. See the two guys in a suit up there?" I point to the spot where I saw the two recruiters and he nods. "They're recruiters. Congratulations, you put on quite a show for them, didn't you? If you weren't wearing a helmet, I swear I'd slap you." He looks around to see how many people are staring. Right now, I do not give a damn about them. I do not care about the possible spread in the newspaper or on the radio tomorrow morning. The only thing I care about is getting through his tick skull how stupid that was of him.

"I saw him, and I got mad. You can't blame me for getting mad, El." I rub my face with my hands. It's a mimic that I got from him. He always does that when he is either furious or stressed out. Only after a few weeks of knowing him, Olive pointed out that I was starting to do the same.

"But I can blame you for making me move here for nothing. We came here for you Ben, so you could play for a great team. Don't ruin that." I know my words are harsh but that's exactly what he needs to hear right now. I'll apologize later once he will have apologized too. His coach puts a hand on his shoulder. I was too focused on my words to notice he was still there.

"I couldn't have said it better Johnson. Listen to the girl. She knows what she's talking about." Ben utters a: "yes coach" before looking at me once more. The look I see on his face makes some of my anger disappear. He looks deeply sorry and tired, oh so tired. I go under the handrail to sit on the cold concrete steps. I tell him to come closer with a come-hither motion. When he is close enough, I remove his helmet as he takes his teeth-protector off. Without taking my eyes off of his, I caress his cheek and watch his eyes close. I give his sweat covered forehead a kiss only to hear him sigh. He opens his eyes when I pull away.

"Now go and score a goal for me," I say with a small smile. "I love you." I place the helmet back on his head as I send him off to the locker-rooms. When I make my way back to my seat, I hear many comments like: "Tell him, girl," or "Way to go," but my personal favorite was "I hate it when girls pretend to know hockey more than men." If only he knew. If only he knew how much I know, how much I had to learn to be able to understand Ben's conversations with his friends. If only he knew how many hours I spent on Google researching the rules of hockey or the roles of each players. I probably spent more hours than him in arenas even if he is older than me. But he'll never know because he will never ask. No one ever asks about the girl's sacrifices, only the guy had to give up some things in order to achieve his dream in their minds. I am not saying that he didn't sacrifice anything because he did. Everything he knew was in South Victoria too. All I am saying is that he is not the only one who gave up on some aspects of his life. I did too, and I'll keep doing it.

Ben didn't score, but they won anyway. Dave Hunter, the right wing, scored with only a minute left lifting the pressure off of everyone's shoulder. The coach would have been way worse on Ben if they had lost. As I had predicted, they talked about my outburst on the local radio station the next day. Ben sent me the recording he made on his way back from practice. It was good, I was proud of myself for expressing my feelings that way. The announcer didn't share my views on it though. He said I was some crazy chick who thought it was ok to harass players on the ice. I have to admit it made me laugh. Ben added a text to the recording saying that a player told him he was going to put the tape as Ben's personal ringtone on his phone. It made me laugh. I just hope that Vivienne and Blair didn't listen to the radio this morning, or if they did, I hope they didn't recognize my voice.

300 reads!! Thank you all so much for your support and happy international women's day to all the lovely ladies in this world xx

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