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For some reason, I don’t think that was it, but I simply shrug.
“Well, let’s focus on what’s important right now: the game.”
Despite what I told my twin, there is some anxiety spreading through my veins. I don’t think it’s because Julie is here watching me, though. There is no time to dwell on it; the puck drops before I feel ready mentally. One of the things I’ve learned is how to effectively shut down my incessant thoughts and find one purpose. My purpose right now is to regain puck control.
I’m within reach of the guy in front of me. My stick stretches out ahead of me, to his right. If I could just graze the puck enough to slip it from his grasp. Cal comes up on my side, momentarily distracting him just long enough for me to close more of the space between us, and swipe the puck. In one swift move, I turn and send the puck to the nearest Rebel, who can take off and face the goalie. His shot is fast and good.
Celebrating with my teammates feels surreal compared to where I was a few weeks ago. But I’ll savor every second on the ice because I don’t know when I’ll have my last shift. It could be years from now, or it could be tonight if some unfortunate injury were to happen. But my anxiety won’t get in the way again if I can help it.
The game wears on, becoming more and more physical. I won’t have to worry about my anxiety wearing me out tonight; the game is doing that for me. This game gets intense too. Three fights break out in the third period, energizing the crowd to a height not yet reached tonight. My head stays up. My nerves stay level. And I make it through without any major issues. I’d call that a successful night.
I’m almost to my apartment door when a pair of footsteps from behind me causes me to glance over my shoulder. It’s just some guy, but he’s watching me with a little too much interest. Enough so that with one hand on my doorknob, I feel compelled to speak to him.
“Can I help you?” I ask. All I want is to fall into bed after the grueling game we had.
“Julie isn’t yours to have, you know.”
All I can do is stare, dumbfounded. Then it hits me. This guy thinks I’m Collin. “What?” is my genius response. “Who are you?” I tack on.
His head cocks to the side in such a calculating manner, it’s unnerving. “Dwight. Julie’s fiancé.”
My hand falls from the doorknob as I turn to face the guy. “What?” I repeat, partly outraged, partly confused. This is fucking crazy. Julie is a bitch and everything, but surely, she wouldn’t do this to my brother.
“See, we got into a fight before she decided to run away and come up here. She obviously didn’t tell you about me, but she’s come to her senses now. She’ll be coming back home with me. I just thought I’d give you a heads-up.”
“Why should I believe anything you say?” After all, he’s some random guy who followed me into my apartment building to confront me about this shit.
He reaches into his pocket, takes a step forward, and hands me a well-worn folded piece of paper. I open it up to see a photo of the two of them. It has a timestamp with a date soon before I found out about Julie being here. That’s all I need to see to have my blood boiling. When I look up, Dwight is gone.
Without any thought, I take two steps to my brother’s apartment and bang on the door.
“You!” Cal points an accusatory finger a
t me. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
“Hey!” Collin shoves him back, even though Cal doesn’t stand but a few feet inside of the apartment. “What the fuck is your problem?”
I stand as Cal throws a photo my way. “Tell him,” he demands as I walk over to pick it up. My heart shatters when I see it. The photo Dwight made me pose for the last time he had me. “Tell him!” Cal shouts again.
“Where did you get this?”
“Your little fiancé caught me outside, thinking I was Collin,” he spits, venom in his voice.
“Fiancé?” Collin asks with confusion.
“Apparently, she’s seeing you on the side,” Cal tells him.
All I can do is stare at the shaking photo, knowing that Dwight was just outside. He’s escalating. He’s done waiting. He’s coming for me.
It’s not until Collin speaks that I realize he’s standing in front of me, looking down at the photo as well. “Jules?” My mouth opens to tell him the truth, but the words get hung in my throat. “Is this what you didn’t want to tell me?”
“You’re such a fucking bitch!” Cal yells, pacing behind his twin as if he’s just as affected. Some part of my brain is completely amazed by how Cal is frantic and angry, while Collin is calm and disappointed.
“How do you explain this?” Collin asks, probing me to speak.
“It’s not what it looks like,” I quietly say, which turns out to be the worst thing to say. Collin’s shoulders sag as if I confirmed what Cal told him.
“Get out.” Cal comes to stand next to his brother, his voice even and deadly. “If that’s all you can say, get the fuck out.”
