Out of Play

by Jolene Perry

  I actually feel pretty good about myself right now, like I did the right thing. Then, Maryanne pulls out a baggy, with about ten pills inside. “I brought these for you, since the package never came.”

  Don’t do it. Don’t do it.

  Why shouldn’t I do it? Why am I suddenly worried? I reach out and grab it before stuffing them in my boot. “Thanks.”

  Get out of the car. Close the door. Watch her drive away. One foot in front of the other. Walk. That’s what each step feels like—a checklist of activities, and I’m not really doing them.

  The baggy scratches my leg with each pace. There’s a direct line from the spot it touches me to my brain, making it all I think about.

  I stop, pull the bag out, and count them. Twelve. I was wrong. There are twelve pills. Now that I know how many are there, I push them back into my boot and walk again.

  Sucking in a deep breath, I try to focus on the cold air, look at the trees, and remember the feel of grease on my hands. My mind flashes to Penny and her white-blond hair, and riding snowmachines, and working with Gramps.

  I pass the driveway and keep going. Keep breathing and thinking. Soon, I don’t feel the scratch of the baggy anymore, though I know it’s there. The more I walk, the clearer my head becomes. On and on, I keep going, struggling to let it all go—to find that peace Gary tells me I have.

  And then…there it is. I find it and wish like hell it will last.

  Chapter Fourteen

  PENNY

  So yesterday I was at school all bent over Mitch, and today I’m bent over Bishop. At least I’m headed to the rink. I left last period early for some time alone on the ice. Coach is going to bust our asses this week, but I’m looking forward to it. It’s not like anything else awesome is happening right now. This is the last week of high school hockey, and the harder I work, the better the distraction is.

  “Got a sec?” Mitch hollers across the ice.

  After moping last night over…pretty much everything, I really just want to skate. But I slide to a stop in front of him anyway because I need one awkward part of my life to not be awkward anymore. “What’s up?”

  “Knowing you, I have about thirty seconds, so I’m going to spit it out.”

  Now that I’ve decided to let him talk, everything in me is still and waiting to hear what he has to say.

  He shoves his hands in his pockets. Obviously nervous. “I love you, Penny. Like a sister. Like my best friend. Like if I’d seen your text, even though I haven’t seen Becca outside of school in forever, I would have come to help. My phone was on the counter, and I hate that I didn’t know you needed me.”

  I nod once because this is what we do as a team. Explain. Get over it. Move on. “Okay.”

  His head tilts to the side. “Okay?”

  My chest loosens in a way it hasn’t since Matt’s party. It’s not perfect, but it’s better enough that I know we’ll eventually be good. For real. “Get your gear on or you’re going to be late. And yes. We’re okay.” I push away from the wall to keep warming up.

  Mitch will never be mine like he is Rebecca’s, and now that it’s done, it doesn’t hurt the way I thought it would. Like the idea of us together was my constant but not a reality I actually wanted. Crazy, but I think it took facing Rebecca and kissing Bishop to figure it out. An ache spreads from my chest at the thought of seeing Bishop with another girl. I suck in a breath and try to dispel the pain. I need to keep skating. Two laps and my brain is still spinning over the girl and Bishop, but when two laps turn into fifteen, into twenty, my head is finally starting to clear. At least a little.

  Rebecca steps into the team box as I come around the corner and waves. She’s biting her stupid lip again.

  I slide to a stop, trying to be nice and forcing myself to recognize that she has more balls than I’ve given her credit for. “What’s up?”

  She shrugs her tiny shoulders. “Just came to watch you guys practice.”

  “Why?” I’m actually curious.

  “‘Cause it’s really important to Mitch, and I want to understand that about him.” She flicks a chunk of brown hair over her shoulder.

  She wants to understand him, and she should. He deserves that anyway. “Then you need to be on the ice.”

  Her eyes widen. “Oh. No. No way. I don’t skate. Like. At all.”

  I scan the area until I spot Rick, the rink owner, and then wave him over. “I’m serious. Coach doesn’t get here for another fifteen minutes.” I’m so full of good deeds. Seriously. “Rick! Get this girl some hockey skates!”

  Her brows go up. “No. Penny. Please.”

  I laugh. “I won’t hurt ya.”

  Rick drops a few sizes on the bench next to us, and Rebecca just stares, uncertain.

  Mitch practically sprints out of the locker room, only half geared-up and shirtless, looking between us with panic. Someone must have told him I was talking to his girlfriend.

  I point my stick at Mitch. “I make no such promises to him.”

  He honestly looks scared as hell, which is ridiculous. It’s not like I’m going to put her in skates just to knock her down. I shake my head like he’s being stupid, and he nods because he knows me well enough to catch my meaning—calm the hell down.

  He backs up a few steps without a word before turning and heading to the locker room. Just as I finish showing Rebecca how to tighten the stiff laces, Mitch reappears fully geared up, showing me that he’s maybe not as chill as I want him to be. At least not yet.

  His brows knit together as I skate away, leaving him with Rebecca, who’s still staring uncertainly at the skates on her feet.

  After a few minutes of Rebecca stumbling and slipping on her own, Mitch’s arms are around her waist and he’s skating backwards. Fast. She’s just staring up at him with her girlie googlie eyes trusting that he’ll keep her safe. I guess that’s what Mitch wants. He couldn’t handle a girl who isn’t afraid to harass him. Mitch accepts who I am, but I feel like Bishop actually likes it. I didn’t realize there was even a difference before now. It makes the whole blond girl situation that much worse. Maybe I just suck at reading people.

  Mitch lifts Rebecca up on the side where the team benches are and stands between her legs for a kiss. She runs her hands through his hair, keeping their faces together, and I might be all charitable and nice about some things, but I’m not that nice. I hold in a smile as I flip Mitch’s skate with my stick, almost sending him to the ice.

  “What the hell, Penny!” he yells, grins wide, and scrambles to his feet. I push hard on the ice to get away, and we’re back to status quo.

  “I said I’d be nice to her, not you!”

  And just as Mitch races my way to retaliate the way we all do with each other, Coach hits the ice.

  Time for what’s probably going to be the best part of my day.

  Rebecca’s smile splits her face as she climbs off the wall and onto the team bench. And I hate admitting this, but I’ve got to give the girl props for getting out on the ice.

  I guess Mitch could do worse.

  …

  When I step upstairs into the kitchen, Mom and Gramps are watching some cheesy sitcom, and Gramps looks completely zoned. It makes me wonder how much of his meds he’s on today. I hate it when she does that—it seems like cheating. Like she drugs him up so she doesn’t have to worry, but it robs him of getting to be himself. I’d never do that unless I had to. I’d rather Gramps make ten steak and strawberry pies than watch reruns of Seinfeld all day while zombied in front of the TV.

  “Hey, honey!” Mom smiles too wide and wanders to the table. “We got pizza. Is that okay?”

  “Fine.” I pause at the table and want to ask why she’s home, but instead I just say, “Haven’t seen you in a while. Must be busy.”

  “Yep. Been busy.” This is her way of agreeing with me without opening up for anything further.

  I wanted her to say something more personal than business or schools or hockey so I can, because part of me is dying
to talk to someone. Irritation sets me on edge.

  I pull open the box and grab two slices, not really wanting to see my mom if the conditions are a drugged up Gramps, a closed-off Mom, and bad comedy reruns. “I’m sore. Going to jump in the hot tub.”

  Her nod and smile feels forced, and I’m not sure when things got so weird. “Okay. Not too late.”

  I have to bite my tongue to ask why she cares how late I’m in the tub because she isn’t here most nights. But I hold it in. Yep. Good deeds. I’m still on a roll. “Thanks for the pizza.”

  I stack my two slices and run downstairs before Mom starts in on more questions. Maybe I do like her new schedule.

  After quickly slipping into my suit, grabbing a soda, and jerking off the hot tub cover, I slip into the nearly scalding water. Better. Feels like I’m practically living in the hot tub these days, which is fine. The cold air bites at my face, but the steam from the tub keeps me from freezing. The stars tonight are incredible—tiny dots of light in a black sky. I keep hoping for the Northern Lights, but it’s probably not cold enough.

  I close my eyes and try not to listen to the drumming coming from Bishop’s cabin. Try not to picture how in the zone he is when he’s playing. Try not to think about how cool it would be if he was playing for me. Or how the blonde feels about him playing for her. But then it stops. I try not to notice that either. My body floats, and I let it. Let my body hover in the center of the huge tub.

  “Hey.” Bishop’s voice is close.

  I don’t jump. Don’t move. Don’t open my eyes. I don’t want to do anything to show him how happy I am he’s here because I should be more pissed than relieved. But I’m not. “What do you want?”

  “What are you so pissed about?” he asks.

  “You want a list, or do you just want to thank me for not ratting you out to your babysitter?”

  “He’s not my—” But then he stops.

  “That’s what I thought.” I let the corner of my mouth pull up but still keep my eyes closed. I don’t want to look at his brown eyes. I don’t want to look at the guy whose lips were on mine, and who I turned away. I don’t think I have the guts to tell him about Mitch when it doesn’t matter anyway, because Bishop already has someone. “Where’s your girlfriend?” I even keep the snotty out of my voice and try to sound bored.

  “She’s not at all my girlfriend.”

  I finally sit up and open my eyes, try not to notice the very nice shape of him in the dim light of the porch, and raise a brow.

  “Okay. I mean…,” He hangs his head for a second before his eyes find mine again. “Fuck, Penny. Why are you so hard on me?”

  No way I’m letting him turn this back to me. “I’m not. I asked a very simple question.”

  His face falls as our eyes stay focused on one another.

  “I screwed up. I was pissed and lonely and I called her.”

  Right. Now’s when I should tell him to leave. Instead, I close my eyes and once again relax deep into the tub, resting my head on the edge. If he wants to take this as a fuck-off, he can. If not, he can keep digging himself in a hole.

  “I didn’t… We weren’t gone long. Practically just turned around and came back.”

  Practically. I wonder what happened during that “practically.” I hate that the thought of it hurts, and I hate how happy I am that he’s out here talking to me because it’s dangerous to like someone this way. Mitch proved it. And Bishop proved it last night. “Whatever. It’s not like I have any claim on you or anything.”

  He takes a deep breath. “You can.”

  I can. I can have a claim on him? Does this mean that he wants me to? Is he trying to move forward again? I don’t move, but open my eyes. Damn, he’s not playing fair—looking vulnerable again. But I have too many questions to let it go. It shouldn’t matter. I shouldn’t care.

  “So, did you just hang out with her long enough to get laid?” I close my eyes and slump again, trying to seem disinterested when in reality, I’m holding my breath waiting for his answer.

  It’s so silent he must be frozen. “I didn’t sleep with her, but she kissed me.”

  “Did you want her to?” My heart’s banging in my chest, making his drums seem like kid toys. I should not be reacting like this.

  “No. And she’s gone now. Back home. I mean, I only sort of kissed her back—”

  “So, it doesn’t count or something?” I swear guys have an excuse for every stupid-ass thing they do.

  He slides his fingers across his lip ring again. “Damn, I don’t know. Does it count?”

  I let the silence hang between us for a moment. “Depends on how you felt about it, I guess.”

  “I sent her home.” His voice is quiet. “I’m here next to you. That’s how I felt about it. Feel about it.”

  Something in not just his words but his tone makes me feel like I should share something. “The night—” you kissed me, is what I almost say. “The night Gramps had a hard time, and all that. I was at the party, and I realized Mitch doesn’t and won’t like me the way I thought I liked him. It’s weird because things between us have been confusing for a long time, even though I thought I knew what I wanted from him. The other night with you… My head was a mess, and I ran.”

  “I’ve been known to ruin girls for all other guys.” All it takes is one narrow-eyed look from me, and he laughs. “I’m kidding. Sorry, Penny.”

  There’s a bit of silence between us, like he’s processing, and maybe I am, too. Processing that some hot girl flew all the way up here to see him, didn’t have sex with him, and then turned around and left. Who is this guy?

  “I should also tell you that I was even nice and didn’t kick Mitch’s girlfriend’s ass when she stalked me out.”

  “That was cool of you. I had no idea you knew how to exercise self-control.”

  Bishop’s grin is immediate, and the moment our eyes connect, it softens, pooling warmth in my stomach.

  He shifts his weight, but his eyes don’t leave mine. “So…were you really into him?”

  Despite the hot water, I shiver under his gaze. I’ve never responded to a guy just looking at me. Not this way.

  “I don’t know. I thought I was, but maybe I wasn’t. We’ve been so close for so long that I think I just assumed we’d be together—and I thought I would like it. Then we weren’t, and I was confused. I think…” I let my words trail off as my thoughts form in my head. Different puzzle pieces snap into place, and they make a truth I never realized was there.

  “You think what?” Bishop scratches his neck like he’s nervous.

  “This is going to make me sound a little pathetic, but I think it’s because I didn’t want him to leave me. He was leaving me for her and…that freaks me out. Being left does.” Not only can I not wrap my brain around this new piece of information, but also that I admitted it to Bishop. “God, I can’t believe I’m telling you this.”

  He blinks a few times like he’s absorbing what I just said. I’m absorbing what I just said. Before he even speaks, I know he’s going to say something else that makes me know he understands.

  “You can handle anything. It’s crazy how strong you are. He wouldn’t leave you, but if he did, you’d show the world you didn’t need him. I’ve never known anyone like you.” He rubs a hand over his face like he’s also thinking he’s revealed too much.

  “Bishop…”

  He shakes his head. “Can we not? I just wanted you to know that, okay?”

  Honestly, I’m not sure what to say, so it’s probably smart to let it drop.

  Still part of me wants to ask a million questions about the girl, and part of me just has a million questions about him. “I know nothing about you except you’re not half-bad on a snowmachine, you can beat the shit out of a set of drums, and you seem to see things in me people I’ve known my whole life don’t. Want to fill me in on anything else?”

  He runs a hand through his hair again and looks down, frowning. “I have a lot going on, but when we
hang out, you kind of make me forget about the rest of it.”

  Am I flattered? Being used? More insecure than I should be? “You didn’t really answer me.”

  “I know.” He sighs. “I’m here because I have to be, but I wouldn’t change it. Is that enough for now?”

  “Maybe. I guess.” I sit up on the edge, needing to cool off after being low in the water for so long. Steam rises from my body, and I watch him watch me as I move. There is no way he’s not checking me out. Okay. I need to shake off whatever girl he had up here because I don’t need another thing to over-think. I’m ready to just be. “If I’m so good for you, then strip down and get your ass in here.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” His face loosens enough for a smile to hit the edges. It’s the first time he’s actually agreed to come in.

  Guess we’re okay. Or maybe just back to where we were before the kiss, and the California blonde pop-in.

  I openly stare as he strips down. Drummers are hot. He’s seriously toned in all the right places, and in about a minute he’s down to his boxers.

  Tight sides. Great arms. Impressive shoulders. Touchable abs, and he doesn’t have chicken legs. The tattoo on his side is drumsticks, big and in an “X.”

  He must really like drums.

  “Damn, it’s cold.” He half-jumps into the water, sitting across from me, and I’m still just watching, letting the steam float off my body. “What’cha looking at, Penny?”

  “Oh, please. Like you didn’t watch me slide out?” I lower myself back into the water. “I like your tat.” And might be thinking about touching you.

  “Thanks.”

  “Man of few words.” I push his calf with my foot, needing to touch him.

  “Girl of many smart-ass remarks.” He leans back until his hair is wet.

  I watch him and know that the only other guy I’ve had in here that I wanted my hands on was Mitch. If Bishop kissed me right now, I’d definitely kiss him back. There’s no way to scoot closer without it being obvious. And maybe I should. Show him I’m okay with it. But maybe I just suck at being a girl, and I’m not someone he’d want to deal with anyway.