fall +++++ j.h.

you're a standout

song: heroes, david bowie, 2017 remastered

jack

I didn't want to be here, I had to be here. It was just the unspoken rule; you go out together after the game, no matter how tired you are, its your duty to go out and relish in the win with the ladies, or look for a girl to numb the loss. Either way, you had to be there with boys. So that's what I was doing in a club, in downtown Newark, where I definitely wasn't legally aloud to chill with my team. The lights were low, only coming from the lining of a dropped ceiling, and making the dancing mass look like a monster with a dark purple light cascading over their moving bodies. Some new trap song thumped over the speakers placed around the large, warehouse type building with some scratchy voiced rapper talking about his girl, and guns, and lean. People yelled around the room; glasses clinked at the bar, and my team talked rambunctiously amongst themselves and a couple of girls. We'd won our game tonight so we were getting some special attention, especially because it was on home turf. But all this noise, all these people made my head hurt, and made me just want to go crawl into bed. Last year, if you'd told me I was going to be drafted by the NJ Devils as #1 pick, and get to go to clubs every night with my guys, I would've told you to cut the shit and stop fucking with me, but now that I was here, and only a week in, I was just so, so tired. Not to mention uncomfortable; I knew that going to the big leagues was going to be a step up. Everyone had told me that; I'd told myself that constantly, but now that I was here, I just felt so in over my head. I was missing all my shots, my confidence was down, and in turn, my skating was slower than it had been since I was fifteen, and my stick work was so sloppy you'd think I was just getting into the OHL, not the NHL. I hadn't talked to anybody about my self doubt because it just seemed stupid. Like, hell, I was number 1 draft pick; I had the best stats of the upcoming rookies, and better stats than some of the guys who'd been in the league for a long time. I fucking belonged here, and I knew it, but lately I'd been questioning it like I never had before. I'd been emotionally absent as a result for the last few weeks, and some of the other guys had noticed, like Hischier and Hart, and so had my brother. He came down to visit me frequently, and knew me better than anyone else on this earth. I had no doubt he knew something was up, but his visits were usually short, and probably didn't want to have any tension over the limited time he was here. So that left me pretty much alone, not really being close enough to any of my new to feel comfortable enough to confide in them; and as I sat there, with the boys under the dark magenta lights, I tried to block out as much noise I could, and tried even harder to ignore the self doubt that crept in even now. I must have been staring off into the distance, because Hart slapped is hand on my back, and gently shook me.
"Man, come back to us," he laughed as I snapped out of my thoughts to look at him. "You deep in there," he laughed again, and Hischier fixed me with a contemplative gaze.
"Feeling alright, Jack?" Nico questioned.
I tried to laugh it off, "Yeah, I'm good, just worked." Hart bought it; Hischier didn't seem so convinced, but let it go, nodding.
"Yeah man, trust me, I get it. My rookie season hell and heaven at the same time. I was constantly super tired, but it was so god damned fun." Nico nodded in agreement. "But you know what always used to make me feel better," Hart continued. I shook my head, he laughed.
"A girl like that, under the Tito's banner," he pointed down off the balcony where we were stationed, across the room at the far back, near the door. A small table sat under the banner with five girls around it. Each one was good looking as far as I could tell, all dressed to the nines, but also quite young looking. Nico scoffed and slapped Taylor on the arm.
"Don't listen to him, Rookie. What you need is a good nights sleep, a good breakfast, and an ice bath."
Hart rolled his eyes at Hischier's tame advice. "Shut up Nico, just because you're whipped doesn't mean you have to ruin the fun for those of us who aren't."
"I'm not whipped, we're not even dating," Hischier shot back.
"Oh, that's right! You're too pussy to go for someone who's, like, five months underage!"
"Just because I'm respecting your country's laws doesn't mean I'm a pussy, Hart."
"Are you sure? Cause that's all I'm seeing. A fucking pussy." My two teammates squabbled amongst themselves about the girl Nico had a crush on, although he refused to do anything about it. She sometimes practiced at our rink, and was still in high school, which meant still underage. That sounds hypocritical coming from me, at only eighteen, but I respected Nico waiting until Wes turned eighteen. Even though she was nice, and I thought she was a good match, it wasn't promised that everyone would agree with me.
"I'm going to go get some air," I told Hischier and Hart, after I couldn't stand to hear another insult followed with "pussy,".
"Oh, I see you, sly dog," Hart hooted in approval, clearly thinking I meant something else, while Hischier just nodded when I got up from the table. I let the noise of my boisterous team fade away as I traveled down the elevated glass stairs above the writhing bodies, but was still bombarded with aggressive words and beats pumping from the speakers all around me. It was almost as if my feet couldn't move fast enough as I shuffled around the edge of the room towards the door. I knew Hart was probably watching me to see something play out with the girls, and I didn't want to be called a pussy, but I couldn't stand the dim lights or the loud music anymore, so I just brushed past their table and threw the heavy metal door open with a clang. When we first arrived there was a line down the block of people waiting to get in, but now the street side was pretty much clear, cars passing ever-so-often. I moved to my left and walked along the side of the building until I practically bumped into a girl who moved from against the wall. I was just as surprised as startled when I halted. I had no idea how I hadn't seen her before, and I seemed to loose all my social skills as I stood, looking down at her. She gave me an awkward smile, to which I returned, still at a strange loss for words. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, I cleared my throat.
"Um, sorry about that, I didn't see you."
The girl laughed lightly, her eyes crinkling. "No biggie," she gave me a bright smile.
I laughed awkwardly, "I don't usually make habit of running into people," my reply satisfied the need I felt for some reason, the need to continue the conversation.
Another light laugh. "Yeah?"
"Yeah, I'm usually better at watching where I'm going."
"Well I'm usually better at standing out."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah, pretty much my specialty."
"Huh. Wish it was mine." My comment came out with more bitterness than I'd anticipated, and as I turned to the girl, her eyebrows scrunched in concern and curiosity, I got my first good look at her. As the headlights from a passing car flashed over her face I studied her features. She had a medium shade of blonde hair, light wisps in the front, near her hairline, darker hair further back. Her skin was of relatively pale complexion, but her hair made her look tanner. Eyes the color of a heavy rain cloud stared back at me, and a small button nose with a silver ring gracing her left nostril stared back at me. Her doll like lips were pulled to the side a bit, giving her a small smile and revealing a small dimple high on her right cheek. She was beautiful, in her own, impish way. She kind of reminded me of a pixie, but with more mellow, soft features.
"You stand out more than you could ever think." With a soft voice, and an even softer hand laid on my forearm, her eyes looked earnest, concerned, but more than anything, understanding.
I turned my head back towards the street, and shrugged in response. "Yeah, I'm not sure if that's right, but thanks."
After offering her a sheepish grin, I felt the warmth of her hand move away from my forearm, and noticed how the cold of the air seemed to bite at the area that had been previously covered by her small palm. Watching her in my peripheral, I could see her reach into the pocket of her black canvas jacket, pulling out a black stick I quickly recognized as a JUUL.
"Do you mind?" She asked.
"Nah, most of my friends did it in high school."
I watched her take a short drag, the crackling filling the silence between us. She held it in for a while, before releasing the smoke-like vapor through her mouth, just inhaling it back in through her nostrils. I'd used to be pretty big on juuling or vaping, and decided to give it up for good the year before I got drafted, but the way she so effortlessly and elegantly released her hit made my heart thud a little bit heavier. So when she turned to me, and held it out in a silent offer, I took it without hesitation. Now it'd been a while, but the relief that hit my veins after my small drag was astonishing; I wasn't addicted before I quit, but doing it again brought me a sense of calm I didn't know I'd missed. After releasing the smoke back into the air, and watching it float into nothing, I sighed.
"Thanks," I handed it back to her, "I needed that."
She looked at me with raised eyebrows, and I quickly backtracked.
"I'm not addicted or anything, I've just had kind of a rough night."
"I was kind of getting that feeling." She stuffed her JUUL back in her pocket, and leaned against the brick wall again, letting a comfortable silence fill the space between our breaths and passing cars. We sat comfortably, together, for quite a while, settling into a rhythm, and out of the corner of my eye, I could see the girl pull her thin coat tighter around her.
I wish I hadn't left my hockey jacket inside so I could give it to her.
I opened my mouth several times, about to say something, anything, before closing it each time, to nervous to break the silence.
Suddenly, her soft voice broke our rhythm. "Ok, so I know this is going to sound weird, but do you want to go do something? It's just I don't really want to be here, and getting the vibe you don't want to either, and I kinda just wanna go have fun." She paused for a second before looking at me quickly, and looking away again, shrugging. "It's ok if you don't I just thought, I don't know, I could show you some cool places, cheer you up a little. It's no big deal if you say no, I'd totally get it."
Another second passed with a car, still focused on her, I weighed my options. Stay here, where I don't want to be, with my team and Taylor harassing me about girls, or go off with a cute girl I just met to explore. Easy choice.
"Sure, sounds fun," I nodded and gave her a smile, which she returned, almost gratefully.
"Ok," more relaxed, she responded. "I have to go give this back to my friend," she held up her JUUL. "You have a jacket here?"
"Yeah," I nodded. "I'll go get it."
"Kay. Meet out here in a couple minutes?" A bright smile was shot my way and I couldn't help but return the gesture.
"Yeah," I nodded, stupid grin on my lips as I followed her back through the heavy metal doors, into the throbbing, pulsing club. She veered off the right to the table of girls Hart had pointed out, before shooting me a smile as I passed.
I headed back towards the steps, and up towards the guys. I could hear them from the floor bellow, and when I got them back in my sights, they were even more rambunctious than before. All focused on something Severson was saying, they didn't see me approach, but when I grabbed my jacket from the back of my chair, and patted Hart on the shoulder, he turned around.
"Hey man!" He exclaimed with excitement. "I saw you pass those girls, think your game is too weak or something?" He ribbed me, and Hischier turned our way to see what his teammate was yelling about.
"Nah," I answered Hart, nodding at Nico. "I'm heading out though."
"Aw man, don't be such a buzzkill," my big friend whined.
"Where you going?" Nico questioned. "It's early."
"I'm going to go hang out with somebody."
Hart cackled and whooped. "Oh, I see you. Found some one interesting while you were outside, did you?"
I shrugged in response, not wanting to give the guys a stronger impression either way.
"Well I'm going to go," I bid my boys a good bye, taking a high five from Taylor, and nodding at Nico, saying, "I'll try the ice bath, and I'll find a ride back to the apartment. Don't worry about it" before heading down the stairs.
For the second time that night, I pushed those heavy, cold metal doors open, heading out into the bitter winter air. The girl was leaned against a streetlamp to my right. She looked up from her phone as the door closed, and gave me an elvin grin I'd received several times already that evening.
"Did you drive here?" She asked.
I shook my head in response.
"Good." Another grin. "Let's go." She started off down the street towards a more busy boulevard, coat wrapped tight, hands stuffed deep in her pockets. We passed under several streetlights, walking side by side, close enough to move my arm slightly, and brush my fingers against hers, but not close enough to feel her heat. Out of the side of my eyes, I could see her closed mouth smile, and found myself experiencing the same thing. After a few minutes of walking she stopped in front of a blue-grey Tacoma, pulling a set of keys out of her pocket and unlocking the truck. The car responded with a chirp, and I rounded the hood to open the passenger side door. I pulled myself into the soft seat and pulled the car door shut as she fumbled with the keys. After sticking the key into the ignition, she cranked the heat and lowered the volume.
"You mind if I play music?"
"Go ahead," I replied, and felt my face splitting from ear to ear in a ridiculous grin that she mirrored. Her phone must've automatically connected because after scrolling for a second, she chose a soft, indie sounding song, adjusting the volume to her liking while I got buckled. She clicked her own seat belt before shifting gears into reverse, and backing out away from the car, then heading down the street to a slow stoplight. I sat forward, lowering the volume before turning to her. While her face was bathed in the red light from the traffic signals, she gazed back at me.
'I'm Jack, by the way."
A dimple on her right cheek greeted me. "I'm Lila."
She shifted into drive, and continued down the road as I readjusted the volume and sank back into my seat with a satisfied sigh.
Lila.