The Goon

by Sara Hubbard

  “Are you late for something?” Laura asks, reading my signs.

  “I’m so sorry! Can we catch up at the rink? I just really have to do something.”

  “Of course.”

  I don’t want to track Brad down in his dorm or call him. He might not answer a call from me, and I don’t want anyone to see me at his place and think something is going on between us because people around here like to gossip.

  I find him in the common area out back of the SUB. It’s this nice hangout place with chairs and tables and a solarium window that curves over your head to form a wall to a courtyard. He’s with his friends. That sucks because I just can’t wait for the looks I’ll get when I pull him away.

  I march toward him like I’m going to war, and I stop myself when I get closer, recognizing how I must come off to others. With forced effort, I slow my pace and try to act casual. A couple of the girlfriends see me and whisper to each other while watching me.

  I hung out with these girls. They were friends. Now they’re grinning at me, but not in a nice to see you, we miss you way. Brad’s back is to me. He’s telling a story I’ve heard many times before, and his friends are engaged, hanging on his words. I slow even more so that when I reach him, he’ll have gotten to the punchline.

  I tap his shoulder, and when he turns, his smile fades. “Em?”

  “Hey. Can I talk to you for a moment?”

  He shrugs. “Sure.” He glances back at his friends. Who knows what he communicates to them with his face? Side by side we walk away to the far corner of the bright, warm space. He shoves his hands in the pockets of his jacket and waits for me to talk with a raised brow. I fidget a little before I find my words.

  “What’s up?” he asks.

  “I know you didn’t sleep with Chloe, that it was just some random girl which, ew, and you’re an ass for maybe catching something you could have given to me.”

  He opens his mouth.

  “I don’t need you to deny it.”

  His mouth closes and he frowns.

  “Who did you tell about the bat I gave you?”

  “What?” he says with a laugh. “I can’t say I expected you to ask me about that.”

  His surprise gives me one of the answers I need. It wasn’t him who called about me, not that I really thought it was him. “Did Jeff?”

  “I don’t know. Ask him.”

  “So you never told anyone?”

  He sighs and scratches the edge of one of his chapped lips. “Don’t fly off the handle about it, but it was kind of comical. You giving me a fucking junior bat like that. I might have told some people on the wall after it happened.”

  “Was Chloe Adams there?”

  “What is your obsession with that girl? She told me how you told Michael the girl I was with was Chloe so you could break them up.”

  “That’s such bullshit!”

  He shushes me and looks around. “Look, Em. You need to calm down. We might not be together—we might not even be friends—but I don’t want you to lose your shit again. I feel bad enough about you getting arrested.”

  I count to three and take a breath. It surprises me he feels he had a role in it at all. I’m kind of impressed, but then, it wasn’t his fault for what I did. That was all on me. I’m too proud to tell him that, though.

  “That was a one-time thing,” I say. “I have a temper, but I would never actually hurt someone.” I lower my voice but can’t keep my emotions from getting tangled in my words. “Not even you.”

  The windows of the solarium angle down to meet a waist-high wall. After Brad mutters a curse, he leans against it and is silent for a moment. I find myself doing the exact same thing.

  “I was an ass. I’m not going to deny that. I really wanted you, but I’ll admit…I still wanted other girls, too.”

  This is how I know I’m over him. When he confesses this to me, I find it annoying and shitty, but it doesn’t hurt me. Not really. Actually, I’m happy he’s being real with me for a change.

  “I was sure that girl I caught you with was Chloe.”

  He hitches a shoulder. “I never saw the resemblance. Not until Chloe started talking to me about you.”

  The sunlight streams in above us so when I look at him now, I have to squint to see his face. “Did she know about the bat?” It was a true detail, one she might have thought would make her story credible.

  “She might have been there.”

  I knew it. And it worries me she’s not done with me yet. “Can I ask you something else?”

  “Sure.”

  “Did you sleep with her? I mean, not that night, but any other time?”

  “Emily, I don’t kiss and tell.”

  I scoff at him then find myself laughing. “Not even when you’re cheating on your girlfriend.”

  He laughs along with me. “Yeah, but I probably should have then.”

  “Yeah, probably.”

  But there is no probably about it.

  Chapter 26

  Brad could have been pissed at me for Michael beating him up over nothing, but maybe he thought he got what he deserved. He never brings it up to me when we spend the next hour talking through some stuff we probably should have talked about months ago. When I go to leave, he opens his arms. “How about a hug?” He smiles widely.

  I might not hate him right now, but I’m not about to hug a guy who did what he did to me. Do I forgive him? Maybe. Probably. But a hug is going way too far.

  “I don’t think so.”

  He leans in and whispers, talking over the side of his hand. “I didn’t really think you were going to anyway.” He gives me a pat on the shoulder, like a guy would a friend. “Look after yourself, Emily.”

  “You, too.” I start to walk away and turn, “Hey! Enjoy the bat.”

  “You know I will.”

  On my way to the exit, I pull out my phone and call Michael. There’s no answer so I hug the phone to my chest, hoping he’ll call me back. I get a text a moment later.

  Michael: About to start practice.

  He doesn’t invite me to come, but it could be an oversight. Still, I don’t go. I call Charlie instead, and she swings by my dorm to hang with me for a while.

  We lay on my unmade bed, side by side, while we eat licorice. I tell her about my day, after she tells me about hers, which included studying and getting attacked by a seagull over a pretzel at a food truck. We have a good giggle over that. Only Charlie.

  “I’m in awe,” she says about Chloe. “She totally made that phone call.”

  “Of course, she did. As soon as Brad confirmed she was around when he said it, I knew for sure. But it’s not like I can tell Michael.”

  “Why not?” Charlie says, turning her head on my pillow to face me.

  “Because I got things wrong before. I’m not about to tell him about this unless I have solid proof, like a frigging voice recording or something.”

  “I don’t think you should keep things from him. Let him make up his own mind.”

  “I will, just not yet.”

  “I wasn’t going to tell you this, but he was with her at lunch. They were sitting together in the cafeteria. She started crying, and he…was comforting her.”

  “How?”

  “He just reached out to touch her hand. It wasn’t a big deal.”

  “And neither is him not calling me since I told him.”

  Her arm lies over her middle, and she lowers it to hold my hand like we used to do when we were little and upset over whatever drama came into our lives. Me and Charlie against the world. It feels like that now, and it’s nice considering how disconnected I’ve felt from her lately. I feel like maybe we’re getting back to how we used to be.

  “He’ll call,” she assures me.

  “Yeah.” I’m sure he will. It hasn’t been that long, and he does have a lot to process.

  “You should go to his practice. Don’t let her come between you. Actually, scrap that. Don’t let you come between you two.”

&n
bsp; “What does that mean?”

  Her nose crinkles. “When was the last time you washed these sheets? Your pillow smells like armpit.”

  I nudge her with my elbow. “I washed them the other day.”

  “When?”

  “Like before I came to school,” I say quietly.

  “I swear to God I’m pulling these sheets off this bed and burning them before I leave.”

  “I don’t have any spare.”

  She groans at me.

  “I don’t have anyone to make me do stuff like that since you moved out on me.”

  She sighs. “I love you, and I miss you, too, but wash your friggin’ sheets before they disintegrate.” She wiggles in place and gets comfy again.

  “Are you going to tell me what you meant?”

  She takes my hand again and strokes my finger with her thumb. “I love you, Emily, but sometimes when things get tough, you either lash out and make things worse or you run away. It hasn’t always worked out for you.”

  I like truth except when it comes to taking a real, hard long look at myself. Yes, I lash out. My relationship with my parents is almost non-existent, but they played a role in that. Now when I go home, we’re like strangers passing in the night. We do our thing, talk about superficial things, and pretend to care when something happens. I guess that’s where I learned to behave the way I do. Lashing out or doing stupid things was the only way I could ever get their attention. Otherwise, I was invisible. Sometimes they’d run after me and sometimes they didn’t. I either got a response or I got what I expected, them not to care enough to fix things.

  “I don’t want to do that to Michael. I want to be better.”

  “Then go to his practice and tell him how you feel. Tell him you’re scared of losing him.”

  “Do you even know me?”

  “Yeah, I do. If you want things to be different with him, then you have to be different, too. Not because of him, but because it’s not working for you. Okay?”

  “Change?” I say, getting defensive.

  “You’re infuriating. Everyone has stuff about themselves they need to work on, Emily. You think I don’t? I adore Ozzie, but it’s an effort for me to give myself to him completely and not worry he’ll leave. And I don’t let myself have a life. I wish I could just put down my books and say, ‘screw it, I’m taking a break,’ but it’s hard. I’ve conditioned myself to make school number one. Ozzie has to force me. Working on yourself doesn’t mean you suck. It just means you value yourself enough to be better.”

  “You’re like a Hallmark card.”

  She lets out a giggle. “And I’m also right.”

  * * *

  Michael’s practice is over soon, so I hurry to the rink wearing exactly what I had on when I hung out with Charlie. Some skinny jeans and a sweatshirt. I threw on a jacket, hat, and mittens just to keep myself warm. The guys are still going strong when I get there. In fact, they don’t look like they’re stopping anytime soon. Their last game of the year is the Friday before exams, and they don’t pick back up until the New Year.

  I find Laura alone in the stands. She’s huddled up in a blanket. It’s chillier than normal in here tonight, colder than outside. I slide onto the bench beside her.

  “Here,” she says, offering me some of her blanket.

  “Oh, it’s okay.”

  She rolls her eyes and tosses part of it on me anyway.

  “Thanks.” The boys are going through plays and taking shots on the nets. When I catch Michael’s eye, his mouth guard pops out as he grins at me. It helps ease my worry.

  The coach screams at him, “Stop thinking with your dick and keep your eyes on the ice.” Since he seemed to like it so much, I flash the coach my middle finger again. He eyes me, his lips quirking, before shoving the whistle in his mouth and blowing hard.

  “He looks like he’s in a good mood.”

  She laughs. “He hasn’t thrown anything yet, so I guess it’s a good day.” She knocks shoulders with me. “How’s it going with Michael? You guys should double date with us sometime.”

  “Yeah, that’d be fun.” I tuck the blanket under my exposed thigh. “Things are good.” Mostly.

  “He’s so sweet. He was bragging about you last practice.”

  I spin my head in her direction. “Really?”

  She playfully wings me with her elbow. “Of course. Some of the guys were trying to get him to go to Pilgrim’s bar, and he said he hadn’t seen you much and wanted to hang out with you. Annie and I ‘awwwed’ over that, but of course, the guys gave him a hard time.”

  “He said that?”

  “He did. Someone’s hooked.”

  “Yeah, maybe.”

  She shifts in her seat to face me. “What’s wrong? You don’t seem convinced.”

  “Oh, it’s nothing. Nothing at all.”

  “Spill, girl. Everything feels better when you talk about it.”

  It’s not that easy for me. “Just some ex drama. Nothing I can’t handle.”

  “Brad or Chloe?”

  “Chloe.”

  “Ugh. What is wrong with that girl? She just can’t leave him alone. It’s not even as if they were happy. They fought constantly. The only practices she’d come to, she’d create drama and he’d be distracted and get in trouble by the coach—like more than usual.”

  “When you say, she can’t leave him alone, what do you mean?”

  She dodges well, almost as well as me. “Oh, gosh, you have nothing to worry about.”

  “I’m sure I don’t, but…”

  She moves her arms out of the blanket and redoes her ponytail, completely unfettered by the conversation and unaware of how much I hang on her words. “Michael eats lunch with us sometimes. Usually in the cafeteria at Morrison. We eat, he studies. I don’t even know how he keeps his scholarship he’s so freaking busy. Anyway, Chloe is always lurking. Staring at him with her big brown eyes.” She rolls her eyes. “Today, she even asked to sit with us. He’s so nice he let her, even though he knows Annie and I hate her.”

  “What’d they talk about?”

  “I don’t know. We left soon after. She’s not someone I want to spend my free time with. Don’t worry, though. Michael looked uncomfortable, and they barely said anything to each other. I mean, take a hint, right?”

  “Right,” I agree.

  Jealousy and insecurity is evil. Even if doesn’t usually affect you, it has the power to catch you off guard and crawl inside of you when you’re not looking. Hearing about Chloe and Michael grows the seed of doubt I have planted inside of me, and the longer I sit with the idea, the more it will grow until it spirals and I imagine him doing it with her in a bathroom stall at the SUB. I’m a jealous person. I’d change if I could, but it’s the way I’m built. It’s based on years of feeling like I’m not quite good enough. I can’t change that by willing it away. It’s instinctual, like how your body redirects its resources to either flight or fight responses after a rush of adrenaline. I guess that’s how I’m wired. Anything that hurts me makes me want to respond the same way. Sometimes I fight and sometimes I run. I don’t want to be that way, and I guess that’s why I’m still sitting here, waiting to see him. And telling myself to let it go.

  But I’m not perfect. Letting go isn’t something I excel in.

  The team finishes practice on time—almost. They’re just a few minutes past the hour. Laura folds up her blanket and shoves it under her arm as they leave the ice and we head down to the lobby to meet up with them. Rich is the first out, no surprises there. A few stragglers come out after. Greg, Michael’s roommate, nods to me as he passes by. “Pretty boy’s taking a shower.”

  “Thanks.”

  “We’ll see you later,” Laura says.

  I wave good-bye and take up root on a bench. A few more guys walk by, and one stares at my legs. He doesn’t even try to hide it. He almost walks into one of the garbage cans, and his buddies laugh at him. I suppose I could be mad, but I don’t have it in me. The coach comes by
next, whistling. He chuckles and gives me the finger.

  Is he really as bad as I think he is? Probably. Still, at least he has a sense of humor. His shoulders jump a little as he walks through the exit doors, as though he finds himself funny. I have to shake my head at him.

  “Hey,” Michael says from behind me. I feel him close, and he nuzzles my neck, giving me a soft kiss with his warm lips but chilly cheeks.

  I scrunch up my shoulders. “You’re so cold.”

  “Yeah, but you make me hot.” He kisses me again on the lips before leading me out by holding my hand firmly in his.

  He’s so attentive and into me right now. I was worried over nothing. I know this, and yet, doubt is there, needling me in the chest. He usually texts me during the day. Why not today? Especially after what happened. We have so much to talk about.

  “What a long day. I’ve been at school since eight o’clock this morning.”

  “Oh?”

  “I have a test tomorrow, and I’ve been slacking off a bit lately.”

  “I thought I’d hear from you. I was wondering how it went with Chloe last night.”

  He reaches his SUV and opens the door for me. “You coming back to my place?”

  Try to stop me. “Yeah.”

  He touches my face and slides the back of his cool hand down my cheek. “Good.” He pushes the door shut and gets in on his side.

  Does he think I’ll let this go so easily? “Chloe?” I prod.

  He sighs. “I’m getting there.”

  Hurry it up. I’m sweating here and thinking the worst.

  He pulls out of his spot and slowly drives forward to the parking lot exit. After he turns onto the road, he reaches over and takes my hand, pulling it to his lips to kiss it. “You’re really cute when you’re jealous.”

  “I’m not jealous,” I lie.

  He frowns at me, but his eyes are smiling.

  “What happened?”

  He lets out a laugh. “Nothing. I met up with her at the SUB and apologized. Nothing happened.”

  “Does she want to get back together?”

  Now he’s serious, and I don’t need him to respond. Of course, she does.

  “It doesn’t matter. She and I weren’t good together, and she knows that. I never realized how bad we were together until I started hanging around you. Everything with you is so...?” He pauses a moment. “Easy.”