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The L-word flows a little easier this time. Maybe I just need to tell thirty to forty more people before I mention it to Auden. By then, it’ll slide off my tongue like taffy.
Cassie blinks twice. “You’ll regret this, Elliot.”
Telling her? Maybe. I doubt a single person here tonight won’t hear about what I just said, including her cousin. Annabel is in the corner with a few of the other girls at the top of Canmore’s social hierarchy, watching this interaction take place. I guess I should be grateful for Annabel’s perpetual bitchiness when it comes to Auden. It’s the reason Auden didn’t have anyone to hang out with when she first arrived in town…and the reason Annabel hopefully won’t mention what I just said to her.
“I don’t think I will.”
“Well…your girlfriend is in New York right now, at her mom’s fashion show, right?”
“Yes…” I know she’s in New York with her mom. I don’t recall any mention of a fashion show, but I’m not confident I didn’t just forget, especially if she mentioned it while naked.
“She didn’t seem to get thenot hooking up with other peoplememo.”
I freeze. “What do you mean?”
“There are photos online of her at a restaurant with Adrian Blackford.”
“Who?”
Cassie rolls her eyes at me. “You’ve never head ofThe Teenage Diaries?”
“That surprises you?”
Another eye roll. “Well, he’s super hot and famous, so…” She smirks and strolls off.
I walk outside. A few people are coming up Cassie’s front path. One girl calls out to me, but I walk across the lawn and hit the sidewalk. I keep moving, glad Cassie lives close enough to me that I didn’t bother driving. I don’t even want to contemplate how long it might take to maneuver out of the maze of cars parked in the driveway and on the street.
My house is in the opposite direction of where I start walking, though. My feet move on autopilot, taking me to the one place I’ve always relied upon, and that finally gives me the answer to Auden’s question. What does hockey give me?
Happiness. Validation. Relief.
I don’t associate anything negative with the sport, even though I probably should, thanks to Andrew Reid. I put a lot into it, sure, but what I put in is what I get back. There’s a clear correlation between effort and results. If I work hard enough, I’ve never gotten anything less than a victory. Records, championships, television coverage—some might say they’re meaningless in the grand scheme of life, but they’ll remain long after I’m gone. Isn’t that the polar opposite of meaningless? I turned hockey into a part of who I am. I don’t know who I am without it. One day, I’ll have to figure that out. It won’t last forever, but I haven’t peaked yet. I’m a long way away from peaking.
The rink is quiet and empty when I walk inside—exactly how I like it. I change into the sweatpants and sweatshirt I always keep in the locker room for this reason. Then I lace up my skates and stomp along the rubber mats before I step on the ice and transition to a smoother surface.
There’s no sound aside from the metal of my blades carving up the ice. Sprays of shavings fly as I race around in circles. I already skated earlier, so the familiar burn appears sooner than usual. I push the pain away, coaxing more movement out of my muscles as the bleachers blur by. My lungs fill with cold air and my eyes begin to water. I feel alive. Invincible. Completely present in this place and in this moment. This has always been the place where I feel this way.
Except…I feel that way when I’m withher, too.
Auden
New York City is hectic. Busy. Loud.
Pretty much the polar opposite of Canmore.
I lost track of how many times I’ve been here a long time ago. When I was younger, it was exciting. It seemed like an exotic place with sweater weather and skyscrapers. A chance to spend time with my mother, even if she was mostly running around to meetings, leaving me to be babysat by one of her harried secretaries.
This trip, I’m apathetic. The activity level still hits me like a shot of espresso, but I quickly fall back into the muted annoyance I spent the whole plane ride simmering in.
I’m annoyed.
On edge.
Hint of heartbreak.
I knew it wouldn’t end well, and I’ve never been more upset to be right about something before.
No matter how much you might want someone to love you, you can’t make them. I seem doomed to learn that lesson over and over again.
