by April Fire
I ordered a coffee and some chicken and waffles, and slid into a small booth attached to the all of the diner. It was quiet- there were only a handful of teen girls picking at their fries and milkshakes, and a guy around my age sitting at the counter. I noticed that the guy was looking at me, narrowing his eyes as though he was trying to remind himself where he’d seen me before. I briefly met his gaze, and felt a jolt of recognition- but I couldn’t place him. Probably just some guy I’d seen around town over the years, no big deal. I turned to the window and stared outside as the sun rapidly sank behind the horizon, the light turning dusky over the parking lot.
I sensed someone approaching my table, and turned around with a smile on my face, hoping that my food had arrived. Instead, I found myself faced with the guy who’d been sitting at the counter and watching me a few moments ago.
“Hello?” I offered him a greeting, and a big grin spread out over his face as he seemed to finally figure out where he’d seen me before.
“Shit, man, it is you!” He exclaimed, loud enough that the waitress behind the counter turned to see what the commotion was. “I knew I recognized you from somewhere!”
“Uh…?” I managed, and he shook his head, trying to reel himself in.
“Sorry, you probably have no idea who I am,” he apologised. “I’ve been following the Crows for a whole season-it just took me a minute to recognize you outside of the helmet and everything.”
“Oh!” I blinked up at him, surprised- I was used to getting recognized once in a while, but not this far out of town. “Good to meet you.”
“Aw, man, this is awesome!” he shook his head again, apparently in disbelief. “Can I get a picture with you? My girlfriend’s going to be so jealous.”
“Uh, go ahead,” I managed, standing up so we would be on the same level. I appreciated his support, but I just wanted to be left alone to eat my dinner in peace. He pulled out his phone, slung his arm around my shoulder, and snapped a shot of us.
“Thanks, man!” He stuck his hand out to me, and I shook it. “Good luck with the rest of the season!”
“Thanks,” I nodded politely, and watched as he went back to his seat, raising his eyebrows and already on his phone again, probably texting the picture to his friends. Well, I guess I’d made his day.
I sat down again, and before I knew it, the waitress had arrived back with my food.
“You’re that guy from the hockey team, right?” She remarked excitedly, looking down at me as though she was trying to convince herself that she’d seen me before.
“Uh, yeah, that’s right,” I agreed, eyeing the food in her hands and urging her silently to just put it down so I could eat.
“Then this is on the house,” she grinned broadly, and placed the food down in front of me. “Chef insists.”
“No, please, I couldn’t do that-“ I tried to insist, but she held her hand up, silencing me.
“He won’t take no for an answer,” she raised her eyebrows at me, as if daring me to say anything different.
“Okay, thank you,” I nodded at her thankfully, and turned my attention to my food, hoping she would take the hint and give me some peace to eat. She paused for a moment, hovering for another second or two as though hoping I might talk some more, and then left.
I tucked in, eating hungrily and quickly and all too aware of the eyes on me as I went to town on my food. The discomfort was palpable- I had never noticed it before, how uncomfortable it was for me to sit here under the watchful eyes of all these people who had opinions on me and what I did and where I was going and what I wanted to do. Even though they probably thought of me as nothing more than some mild local celebrity, it still stripped away what little privacy I had.
I finished up, and left a twenty-dollar note tucked under my plate and hoped that they would at least accept it as a tip. I really didn’t feel as though I deserved any of this.
As I climbed back into my car, I sighed, and started the ignition. I still hadn’t made a decision, and this little excursion out of town hadn’t helped. It had only underlined what my life would be like if I stayed, and I wasn’t sure that was doing me much good. I pulled out on to the road, and found myself faced with miles of traffic backed up halfway along the freeway.
Chapter Thirteen
I paced back and forth across the tiny space next to the bed in my apartment, and wondered how long I was going to be there for.
I didn’t hate this place- in fact, I was growing to like it more than I expected. But Sam was starting to take over the story, and I couldn’t have that.
I liked him- a lot, actually. He was smarter than he made out to be, and expressive, and funny, and so fucking good in bed that sometimes it made my head spin just thinking about it. But…this decision. I knew that whatever he chose, it would be the climax of my story, but more importantly, it would change his life forever. I knew I should have been able to keep my professional detachment, but I was getting embroiled in his personal life and I didn’t want that. Or did I? Was what was going on between us just me getting too involved in the story? Or was it something more? Would there still be something between us if we had just met at the bar instead of at the rink? I couldn’t be sure and I hated myself for it.
I had never felt this way about anyone before. Sure, I’d met some cute guys in the time that I’d been reporting, and some of them I had even reporting on- but I had been dating that entire time, I wasn’t looking for someone to date. I couldn’t tell what was just me focusing in on the story, searching out the narrative of the piece I was putting together. I needed some time to figure things out, needed to get to know him outside of the rink and my Dictaphone. But how could I do that?
I decided to head out for a drink- I had spotted a chic-looking bar on one of my drives about town, and I needed a beer just to help clear my head. Counter-intuitive? Probably, but I would deal with that later.
I walked through Kingstown, appreciating the hustle and bustle around me- I loved to people-watch, and, as people left their day jobs and others started their night shifts, I had a great opportunity to squeeze some in. But, instead of making me feel better, it just made me feel more alone- back in the city, the people around me reminded me of my friends and family, the people I grew up with and loved. When I looked at the people here, I was reminded just how far I was from home, and just how little I knew anyone or anything about this place.
I arrived at the bar after a few minutes’ walk, and, as I walked through door, I felt myself relax slightly- yeah, I was still far from home, but I could recognize a fancy cocktail bar when I saw it, and this place was about as fancy as I would find in a town like this. I wondered who’s idea it was to open a bar like this-all polished wood, neutral colours, and light jazz playing in the background- but dismissed the thought at once. Stop overanalysing, and just have some fun.
I ordered myself one of their most expensive craft beers, and took a long sip-well, as long as I wasn’t playing city-prices rent, I might as well spend my money on something a little more exciting. I closed my eyes as I drank-mmm.
“I haven’t seen you around here,” A voice came from beside me. My eyes flipped open, and I found myself staring into the face of a kindly-looking older man of about fifty or sixty.
“I’m new,” I replied by way of explanation. “I’m doing a story on the Crows so I’m only here for a few months.”
“The Crows!” The man’s face lit up and he shook his head. “Damn, it’s been a long time since I thought about them.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, leaning forward with interest. Yeah, I knew I was meant to be here to have fun, but when a tantalising little titbit like that dropped into my lap I couldn’t really ignore it.
“I used to play for them,” the man spread his hands widely with a big grin of his face, obviously proud of his announcement. “When I was in college.”
“Really?” I cocked an eyebrow, and wished that I had brought my Dictaphone with me.
“Oh yeah,”
he nodded. “In fact, I played for them for a few years.”
“What was it like?” I asked eagerly.
“Back then?” The man took a sip of his drink. “Not much. We had a good time, but it was barely more than an amateur league that we played in. I think most of us were more in it to find drinking buddies than we were to win any trophies.”
“What do you think about the team now?” I continued, trying to take mental notes of everything he was telling me.
“I haven’t been to see them in a long time,” he admitted with a shrug. “I left town a long time ago, I’m only back here tonight to visit my sister and her kids.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yeah,” he nodded. “That’s why I quit the team in the first place, actually. Because I wanted to get out of here and that was the only thing keeping me tied down.”
“That’s interesting,” I mumbled, half to myself, and suddenly wished Sam was here. If he could hear what this guy was saying…
“But those new kids, I bet they get to travel all over the place,” he perked up. “All over the state, I’d wager!”
“Yeah, I think they go a bit farther afield now,” I agreed then looked back at my drink.
“I’ll leave you to it,” the man bowed his head, as if sensing my need to have a think about what he’d just said. “Let me know if I you think of any more questions for me!”
“I will!” I smiled as he made his way to a small booth on the opposite side of the room, glad to be back in my own head once again.
Everything that I heard in this place, added on to my own experiences, made me want to go to Sam and beg him to get out of here. There were better things to do with his life- no matter how much he liked this place, no matter how much he thought he wanted to stay, he must have known as well as everyone else did that if he remained in Kingstown then nothing would change.
I finished up my drink and ordered another- I knew I was probably going to get a little drunk that night, but it was fine as there was no training the following morning. I might go for a drive to the local library and see what they had on the Crows, but in the meantime, I planned to get pretty fucking drunk to try and fix all the memories that were parading around my head non-stop. My life back home, whatever was happening with Sam, this place, my last place- not to mention where I would go when this was all over. The reality of the situation was beginning to set in, and it frightened me- serving as a reminder that not everything got wrapped up neatly by the end of the episode.
By the time I got home, I was staggering on my feet a little- as soon as I was through the door, I reached for my Dictaphone and put on the last interview that I had done with Sam. I listened to his voice echo through the room, with mine intercutting every now and then to ask for a clarification or point him in the direction that I knew I needed. I still cringed every time I heard myself speak. I did my best to focus in on Sam, and found myself lost in the excitement in his voice, the enthusiasm, how much he loved this and how much he needed it. He couldn’t just stay here. There was more to him than that. There had to be.
I reached for my phone impulsively, and pulled up his number. Was I really going to do this? I stared at it for a few seconds, and then dumped it back down on my bed. No, I wasn’t. Because I had already tried my best, and it hadn’t worked. He needed to come to the conclusion himself, and it was clear that nothing I could do was going to convince him.
And then, the phone rang.
Chapter Fourteen
I took my time getting back into town, and even once I arrived, I had no damn clue what I was going to do with myself. I knew I needed to talk- knew I needed to share with someone the revelation I’d had stuck in traffic on the way back from that diner. I couldn’t keep it to myself any longer.
I’d tried Johnson, but he didn’t pick up-probably out on a date with his wife, and revelling in some time to himself. Between us and the kids, he spent a lot of time cleaning up other people’s messes. I couldn’t really talk to any of the rest of the team about it- at least, not yet- and there was only one other person who knew about what was going down. Emily.
It took me a long time to pluck up the courage to turn up at her door, and even once I had, I sat there for a while before I could even think about calling her. It was late, and she was probably in bed- or out, doing something more fun than interviewing hockey players and typing it up on that tiny computer of her’s. But I needed to talk to her. Needed to tell her what had hit me. Because I was pretty sure it was the conclusion she had been guiding me towards this entire time.
Finally, in a rush of blood to the head, I grabbed my phone and, with frigid fingers, dialled her number. I held the phone to my ear for a few seconds and waited as it rang- no answer. No answer. Maybe she didn’t want to hear from me? Maybe-
“Hello?” Her voice came down the line at last, and I practically let out a gasp of relief.
“Emily?” I asked stupidly, then shook my head. “Sorry. I’m, uh, I’m outside your place. Can I come up?”
“Sure,” she sounded surprised. “I’ll be down in a minute.”
She hung up, and a few seconds later appeared at her door. She waved me in, leaning up against the frame as I got out of the car and made my way towards her. She was dressed down, in jeans and a slouchy t-shirt, and she looked good.
“What are you doing here?” She asked, looking up at me and standing in front of the door. She didn’t sound mad, just baffled by my appearance here- but it was clear she wasn’t letting me in till she knew what my motives were.
“I need to talk to you,” I replied, staring down at her, trying to convey to her the seriousness of what was happening. “Just talking. I promise.”
“Whatever you say,” she sounded a little disappointed, but nonetheless stepped aside to let me in. I hurried inside and towards her apartment, glad for the heating inside.
“Sorry for the mess,” she muttered as we entered her place, kicking the dirty clothes and scattered pages of notes off the bed so we could sit down. An image of us last time we were here flashed through my mind, and I had to fight the urge to pounce on her right there and then- but no. I was here for a reason, and it wasn’t that. No matter how much I wanted to.
“No problem,” I sat down at the edge, giving her plenty of space to make it clear that that wasn’t what was on my mind. She curled up next to the pillows, watching me carefully.
“So what is it?” She asked after a pause. I took a deep breath, exhaled it, and then finally spoke.
“I’m leaving,” I replied, the words sounding foreign in my mouth. It was the first time I’d admitted it to anyone, even though I’d sort of known it for a long time already.
“What?” Her eyes widened, and before she could stop herself, an enormous smile broke across her face. “But why? Why now?”
“I was in a diner out of town this evening,” I began, the words falling from my mouth uncontrolled. “And even though I didn’t know anyone from that side of the county…I got recognized.”
“So?” She leaned forward, waiting for me to deliver the punch.
“So I realized on my way back that all of this is too easy,” I admitted. “I could stay here, but I’ve already reached the pinnacle of how good it’s gonna get if I stick around Kingstown. I don’t want to be limited in…how much I can do. And how far I can go. You get it?”
“Of course I do,” she shook her head in disbelief. “I just can’t belief…shit, I can’t believe you came around.”
“Me neither,” I shook my head, feeling a bubble of emotion rise up and burst in my chest as I realized what I’d just done. “I just needed to say it to someone before I chickened out.”
“And you chose me?” She raised her eyebrows, incredulous.
“Well…yeah,” I shrugged. “You were the one pushing me towards this, anyway.”
“Was I that obvious?” She shook her head and looked down at her hands, which were clasped in a tight ball in her lap. “I just…I wanted you to do somethin
g beyond just this town. I’ve seen you play. I know you’re suited for something bigger than this.”
“I can’t…” I blew a long puff of air out of my mouth, trying to get myself in check. “Thank you. For pushing me. I needed this.”
“Anytime,” she examined me carefully, as though trying to figure something out- but the expression dropped away from her face after a second or two, and her smile returned.
“So, when do you go?”
“No idea,” I admitted. “I’ll have to talk to coach, and take it from there.”
“Well, thanks for giving me the perfect place to end my story,” she teased.
“Oh, so you were only doing this for your article?” I shot back, faux-hurt. “So callous.”
“I am a journalist,” she pointed out. “We’re not exactly known for our decency.”
“Well, you must be the exception to the rule,” I remarked softly, and realized that I was leaning towards her; the gap between us was closing, and she was inching towards me, both of us all too aware that we were alone in the tiny place with only a bed to share for the night. She let herself fall forward on to all fours, and crawled towards me across the bed- her t-shirt hung low on her body, and allowed me a glimpse of her gorgeous breasts under the fabric. And then, finally, our mouths met once again.
Maybe it was the giddiness of the situation, maybe it was the adrenalin that was already pulsing through my body, but when we touched, it felt as though something had seized up inside of me. I reached for her, catching her face in my hands and kissing her hard- I pushed my tongue into her mouth and wrapped an arm around her waist, hoisting her onto my lap. She moaned slightly into my mouth, and I moaned back, happy to give myself over to the relief of this release. She parted her legs and straddled me, grinding her hips down against my rapidly-growing erection, while I slid my hands down the back of her pants to grope at her gorgeous ass.
