Out of Play

by Jolene Perry

  My legs are starting to weaken, my shoulder’s a throbbing mess, but there’re less than ten minutes left. I can take Advil later. Right now, I need to play with everything I have.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  BISHOP

  Something’s not right. I don’t know what it is, but Penny doesn’t seem as fast as she was. She’s not letting anyone close to her. Yeah, I know she’s supposed to be dodging guys, but she’s doing it differently. It takes everything I have inside me not to jump out on the ice and take down number ten. He’s been on her ass all night, and it’s pissing me off. Hockey or not, he hits her again, and I’m out there.

  Chill out, Riley, I tell myself. Penny doesn’t need me. She doesn’t need anyone. She can take care of herself. She’ll go off and play hockey, which is what she should do. Leave my ass behind.

  I look around, starting to feel freaked out.

  It doesn’t make it easier that the crowd is double what it was at her last game. People pushing, screaming, cheering, grabbing. It’s every fear that taunts me alive. If this wasn’t her game, I would have been gone a long time ago, but what kind of man am I if I can’t deal with a crowd for her? I need to find a way to calm my shakes before I spiral out of control.

  Penny makes a turn, ice shooting up from her skate, and it calms me a little bit. She’s incredible out there. Everywhere, actually, but it’s so cool to see her skate like that.

  And they’re going to win because of her. I know it.

  I look a few rows behind me and see Penny’s mom with Ben. If you ask me, it’s pretty janky that she brought him here. She gives me a look of death, so I turn away. I’m not dealing with her tonight. It bothers me that Gramps isn’t here, though. Gramps and our talk and the pills are playing on a continuous loop in my mind. The more I think about them, the more it feels like everyone is gravitating toward me, squeezing around me tighter and tighter until I want to scream for a whole different reason.

  Bishop! Bishop! Bishop!

  I flinch, try to take some deep breaths, pretend I’m walking with Gary. They’re not here for me. No one’s yelling my name.

  I hate that it’s like this. It shouldn’t be this way. It sucks that I’m teetering on the edge at a hockey game. Trying to shake it off, I look for Penny. Just as I do, she starts skating our way. Number ten is right behind her. He slams her into the wall so hard, I swear I feel the rumble. And then she hits the ice. My chest is getting tighter, like someone is squeezing the air out of me.

  The crowd gasps. Pauses. I stare, waiting for her to get up. She doesn’t.

  Everyone starts racing toward her. Coaches, an EMT, her team, I don’t know who else, but I know I have to get to her. To be there for her the way she’s unknowingly been there for me. I start shoving my way through the crowd.

  “Bishop!” Gary yells from behind me, but I ignore him.

  Deep breaths. Calm the fuck down, B. You can’t lose it right now. The crowd is tight. No one wants to let me through, and I’m struggling to breathe. It’s like they’re a wall, fighting to keep me from her, so I start pushing bodies with everything I have in me.

  My chest cinches tighter.

  Deep breaths.

  In. Out. In. Out.

  I feel like I’ve downed a bunch of uppers. My insides are twitchy, like they want to bust out of my body. I can’t control any of it. Nothing. Me. The crowd. No control.

  “Bishop!” Gary yells again.

  I just need Penny. Need to get to Penny. There are too many people around me, in front of me, to see her.

  Hands clawing at my skin. People grabbing me. Bishop! Burn! Bishop, burn! Don’t crack up! It’s not real.

  Deep breaths, deep breaths, deep breaths.

  She’s not getting up. Why isn’t she getting up?

  Finally, I push my way onto the ice. If I took the time, I might be able to breathe right now, but it’s not important. I’m slipping like crazy, but again, it doesn’t matter. A million years later, I get to the people blocking her.

  They’re crowding around her. Give her room to breathe!

  “Pen,” rushes out of my mouth when I get to her. Her mom is by her side, and she gives me another one of those evil looks. Right now? Fuck her. I don’t care. This is about Penny. Ben steps in front of me when I reach for her.

  “Her mom doesn’t want you around her. Maybe you should back up.”

  “And I’m pretty sure Penny wouldn’t want you around her.” I shove him aside and he falls to the ice. Someone yells, “Hey!” and a ton of hard stares come down on me. Burn, Bishop, Burn! Hands grabbing me.

  They’re loading her onto a gurney.

  “Penny.” I reach out and touch her hand. They took her gloves off so it’s just her skin, all soft. Her bones, all fragile. So fragile. Her eyelids flutter a few times, but her body’s still slack.

  Ben grabs my shoulder. “Back up!”

  I just want to make sure she’s okay. They should understand that. I need her to be okay. I shake him off. My finger is latched onto Penny’s. Her Mom is there again, breaking our contact, leaning over Penny. “What’s wrong? How bad is she hurt? Is she awake?” She can hate me later. Right now, I just need to know about Penny.

  “Get out of the way,” she replies. Ben grabs for me, and I shove him again. People gasp all around me.

  A coach grabs me this time. “We need you to get off the ice!”

  Everyone is staring.

  Mitch skates up and tries to grab my arm, but I jerk away. I can’t handle being touched right now.

  “She’ll be okay, Bishop.”

  I ignore him.

  Breathe, breathe, breathe.

  Sweat makes my eyes sting.

  They’re wheeling Penny away.

  Dizzy. I can’t believe I’m fucking dizzy right now. I feel like I could puke. Pass out. Fall down. Something. Everything is blurry. The crowd is both loud and muted at the same time. People are looking at me. Somehow, they’re transformed into a crowd at one of my shows. Waiting for me. Penny’s gone, and all I can think about is her. Gramps. Gramps isn’t here. He would be down on the ice if he was. Gramps has to know she’s hurt.

  They’re not going to let me see her, but Gramps will make sure she’s okay for me. Get me in to see if she’s okay.

  Breathe, breathe, breathe.

  I start to run. The ice is slippery as hell. My heart feels like it might burst, but I keep going.

  I’m out of the building and don’t even take the time to suck in a deep breath. I run for Bitty, pulling the keys out of my pocket as I go.

  I slam the truck into first, the tires spinning as I peel out of the parking lot.

  I almost run off the road three times, the tires slipping and sliding, but I just need to get home. Tell Gramps. Check on Penny. She’ll be okay. Everything will be okay.

  The only reason I know I turned off the truck when I get home is I use the keys to unlock her house. “Gramps!”

  Breathe, breathe, breathe. Don’t lose it right now. Not when it counts. She can do anything. She’s way better than me. I need to do this for her. “Gramps! She’s hurt. She needs you. We need you!”

  Music is playing, but I can’t find him anywhere. My legs are shaking so bad I can hardly stand, but I push myself. Keep going. Have to keep going. “Gramps!”

  I make it to the kitchen. I’m not breathing anymore. My heart isn’t beating, but somehow I make myself run to Gramps who’s lying on the floor, a pie teetering on the edge of the table.

  “No! No, no, no! Fuck no!” I fall to the floor next to him. Grab him. Pull his head to my lap. My hands are shaking so hard I can’t even tell if there’s a pulse. Get it together. I need to get it together. Don’t fuck this up.

  My chest is cracked open, everything inside me spilling out. Gramps. Penny. How can this be happening? “Wake up. Wake up, old man. Penny needs you.” I need you.

  I shake him. Please wake up. I need him to wake up. I love you, too. Rocking. With his head in my lap, I rock. Look down at
his beard. There’s grease on his face again. Crazy old man, always has grease on his face.

  And then it’s wet, my tears hitting him the same way Mom’s hit me in the hospital.

  “You’re doing good, son. We’ll get through this together. I’ll be there every step of the way.”

  “You said we’d do it together. You said you’d be there. You have to be there.” More rocking. My head is blurry. The room is blurry. I just want it all to go away. Everything. It’s too much. Please be there. I need you. I can’t do it, Old Man.

  Fighting, I try to stop shaking, to stop rocking, but I can’t. It’s taking me over, possessing me. Penny, Gramps…

  “Bishop! What are you—oh shit.” Gary falls to the floor next to me. He’s on his phone. Yelling into it. Yelling at me. Pushing me out of the way so Gramps is flat on the floor. My brain tells my body to do something, but I’m frozen.

  “Snap out of it, Bishop! I need your help!” Leaning over, he breathes into Gramps’s mouth. CPR. Gramps is gone. He loved me. He knew all about me and still loved me.

  “Push on his chest. Snap the fuck out of it and help me!” he yells.

  I’m screwing it up. Like always. Get it together! For once, I need to not mess something up. Fighting down everything else inside me, I find the spot in the center of his chest and start compressions.

  Gary gives him more air. Gramps has no air. Gary’s breathing for him. I’m trying to start his heart when he’s always been able to do everything.

  Over and over, we try to bring Gramps back to us. I’m on autopilot, no idea what I’m doing, but managing to do it. EMTs show up. Shove me out of the way. Give Gramps air. Push on his chest.

  Gary’s pacing. Talking to an EMT. My legs are so weak I reach out so the table can hold me up, but I miss and almost crash to the floor.

  I’m numb. More numb than I’ve ever been. I can’t feel anything. Don’t know if I’m breathing, but I know I need out. Out of the house. Out of my own skin. Out of everything.

  Staggering, I stumble to my cabin. I have no idea how I get inside. With all the strength and anger inside me, I kick my drums until they topple down, smash my foot over and over into them. Pain shoots up my leg, but I don’t care. Penny is hurt. Gramps is gone. I know it. Know he’s not coming back. How can he leave me? Doesn’t he know I need him? How much Penny needs him? He was fine yesterday. Fine. We worked on the car, and laughed, and talked, and he told me we’d do this together. He made me believe. He made me feel strong.

  More stumbling and then I make it to my room. I don’t know why I go there, what I want. Actually I know what I want, but I can’t have it. My foot catches on the chair, and I fall forward and let loose. Cries climb up my throat. My gut cramps. I wanted to save him. Couldn’t save him. He’s gone. Gone. Penny’s hurt, and I couldn’t save Gramps for her—for me. I’m losing it.

  It’s not like I did anything to deserve being happy anyway.

  I roll on the ground, my eyes blur with tears. My suitcase sits in front of me, taunting me. I can hardly make it out through the blur of my vision. My shaking increases. My heart slam-dances in my chest.

  He could have missed one.

  I actually crawl to my suitcase, rip it open. Please let him have left one. It takes me three times to push my fingers inside. Finally they’re there and…harder, my heart pounds harder. There’s a baggy inside.

  He didn’t take them. Why didn’t he take them? Maybe he didn’t get a chance. Maybe he forgot. What matters is they’re here when I need them. I rip it out. Open. Twelve pills.

  I want to throw them across the room.

  I want to take them all.

  Gary giving Gramps air. Pushing on his chest.

  Penny getting slammed into the wall. Falling, falling. Her mom’s words. She’ll never let me be a part of Penny’s life. I don’t deserve to be, never have.

  It’ll be my last one. No more.

  Why didn’t I tell Gramps I loved him, too?

  I dump them into my shaking hand and toss I don’t even know how many into my mouth. The rest fall to the floor and scatter. Stumbling, I go to the bathroom, then turn on the tap.

  What am I doing? I don’t want to do this.

  I need this.

  I cup my hands, fill them with water, and drink down the pills and liquid before sliding down the wall and hitting the floor.

  I’m floating away…further and further the longer I sit here. The pain is masked, hiding behind the clouds of high. I can breathe. I’m free. It feels so good. I shouldn’t have fought this. Why did I fight this?

  Soaking in this light, fluffy feeling, I kick my legs out in front of me. This is the freedom Gary talked about. The pain keeps getting further away, and it feels incredible.

  Alaska Bishop is gone.

  Gramps pushes his way through the haze. He worked with me. Believed in me. Loved me. I’m letting him down.

  Gary shoves his way in next. He stood up for me. Protected me. Took time from Troy to help me. Walked with me. Talked with me. I’m letting him down.

  Mom’s hand is in my hair. She always loved me. Took care of me. Let me have my dreams. She did everything to keep Dad away from us. I want to take care of her. There’s no way to do it like this. I don’t want to let her down anymore.

  Penny. Penny. Her hands on my sides. Her lips against mine. Vanilla and gasoline. I feel the adrenaline when we race. How good I felt just carrying her hockey bag. She trusts me. Talks to me. Likes me. Bishop Ripe, not Bishop Riley. I don’t have to be a rock star for her. And I lied to her. I don’t want to lie to her anymore. I want to deserve her trust.

  This is my biggest fuck up of all. All my plans, what I told Gramps, Gary, rehab. I’m blowing it to hell. It makes me sick. I make myself sick. Gramps just died, and I don’t know what’s wrong with Penny, and I’m high. Hatred burns through me.

  Lurching forward, I stick my finger down my throat trying to get rid of the poison inside me. Trying to be the Bishop I want to be. It tastes like crap. My throat burns. My stomach feels like it’s shriveling I puke so hard, but I don’t want to leave anything else in there. I don’t want it inside me ever again.

  When nothing else will come out, I pull out my cell and type two words.

  I’m sorry

  After hitting send, I push to my feet and run outside.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  PENNY

  I blink and try to open my eyes, but it’s like they’re filled with mud. Everything’s heavy. Someone’s holding my hand. Bishop. Bishop has my hand. I remember at the rink. I turn, and Mom’s blurry face is looking through the railings of a hospital bed.

  “You’re fine, sweetie.” Mom’s voice carries to my ears from someplace far away. Or maybe I just think it’s far away. “You got a nasty concussion, and—”

  “Where’s Bishop?” I jerk my hand away, but I can’t find the thoughts to form the words. Wait. Game. “The game. How did we do?”

  “Mitch stopped by. You won.”

  I let myself relax. How much did I miss? What did I miss?

  “Yours was the only goal scored. I’m proud of you.” Mom’s voice hitches.

  “Why am I here?”

  Wait. Her face is seriously red and blotchy, and tears are streaming down her cheeks so fast she can’t keep up with them.

  “Did I lose an arm or something?” I ask. The foggy, floaty feeling is still keeping me from putting any pieces together. I’m just here.

  Wait. I’m mad at Mom. I think.

  “No, honey, but—”

  “Bishop?” That’s what I was after. He had my hand. Not Mom. Bishop. This isn’t right.

  “He’s not here,” Mom says, but her voice is sorry, tired, not frustrated like I’d expect. “Penny. Listen to me.”

  She’s being too quiet. Why is her voice so quiet and hesitant? Why isn’t Bishop here? I turn toward Mom. “Did you tell Bishop not to come?”

  “Yes, but we need to talk about something else right now.”

  I
never know what to do when things get this intense, so I try to tease. “Am I dying or something?”

  She shakes her head and squeezes her eyes tight before looking at me. “You’ll be fine honey, but we lost Gramps.”

  “Gramps?” The room spins, turning my stomach over. “What are you talking about?”

  “He passed away.” The words come out on top of one another in this weird, whispering voice.

  They linger, hover, and then start digging their way in, but I won’t let them. Won’t let them sink in. Won’t let them be replayed.

  I choke. “No. He’s fine.” I can’t lose Gramps. Can’t. My head is so clogged up and heavy that I’m not processing right. No way can this be happening.

  “I’m sorry, Penny. He had a heart attack. He was gone before the ambulance got there.” Mom’s hand squeezes mine again, but she feels like a stranger right now who is saying things I can’t understand. Gramps isn’t gone. I’ll figure this out. I just need out of here so I can find him.

  I try to sit up, but a shot of pain rushes through my shoulder, and the room spins like I’m on a roller coaster.

  “Whoa.” A nurse pushes me back down. Where did she come from?

  “She’s going to give you something for the pain,” Mom says as she continues to hold my hand in her two.

  I don’t want anything for the pain. My chest hurts way worse than my shoulder, and I don’t think whatever she’s putting in my IV is going to help with that. I don’t want Mom to hold my hand. I want to be out on the rink with Gramps screaming my name from the bleachers and grinning every time I get stuck in the penalty box. He’s the only thing that takes the sting out of Dad being gone. My eyes are too heavy. I open my mouth to say stop with the drugs, but nothing comes out.

  Gramps dying is all too real. I scream and yell, only I think it’s mumbles because my lips are so numb I can’t feel them. Mom told Bishop to leave me alone, and now Gramps is gone, and if I can’t have Gramps I need Bishop. I try to tell her how I hate that she lied to me and that she hasn’t been home and that she never gave Bishop a chance. I exhaust myself talking in slurred words. I’m still fuzzy with drugs, and none of it makes sense. Finally, the doctor insists my mother leave the room. “You’re not mad at me, Penny. You’re just mad,” she keeps saying over and over. Right now, it’s all the same.