Well, I did say almost.
eleven
Coach Howes liked to say, “The minute you guys feel unbeatable, we’re in trouble.” He said that a lot during our winning streak. “Overconfidence makes mistakes.” It was his favorite warning and we tried to listen. The coach wasn’t the type of guy that slapped you on the back or punched your arm. He didn’t build you up or cut you down. When he said something, it was because he meant it and believed you truly needed to hear it. He was levelheaded but not very friendly. Like a machine really. All about the game.
So I was kind of surprised when he clapped me on the back after an effortless win, grinning from ear to ear, and said, “Nice defensive play lately, Nick. That’s what we like to see.” See, defense wasn’t usually my strong point. I had speed, scoring ability, and could make crisp, accurate passes. He was right though, lately I’d been on a real hot streak all around. I wasn’t crazy enough to think it had anything to do with Sasha, but I loved it when she was in the stands, even though she didn’t have a clue about hockey.
Anyway, like I said, the team tried to listen. I tried. But I could never quite swallow what Coach Howes was preaching. Confidence feels good. More is better. Better is better. Sure, moderation in all things, but you could never have too many good feelings. Not that I’m the guru of good feelings or anything; it’s just common sense.
No one can ever really tell you anything anyway. They can try, like my dad and his fifty-dollar bills or Keelor’s parents flushing his weed, but in the end you either buy into their advice or you don’t. Take Keelor. He was lying low, waiting for his parents to relax again, but he was guaranteed to score more weed and when he did, I’d probably smoke it with him.
Safe sex was a different story. The condoms weren’t a problem for me. We needed them. We had them. I put them on. No problem.
I actually felt calmer once Sasha and I started sleeping together. It was like confirmation that we were right together. Sasha would never have done it if she didn’t believe that—not the first time and definitely not the second. The other thing is (and I know this sounds weird) that it kept the sweetness alive. That’s honestly what it felt like. You’d think sex would make you less innocent, but it didn’t work that way for me. I felt new for most of November. We were closer in every way. We talked and texted each other constantly. I didn’t even care about the hot girls who came into Sports 2 Go and touched my shoulder like it was something else. Seriously, they weren’t a temptation.
I felt so calm that I didn’t even worry about Sasha being around Holland or my mom anymore. Mom’s birthday was near the end of November and Holland and I made fettuccine Alfredo and Greek salad. The old me would’ve avoided inviting Sasha, but the new me told her it’d be great if she could make it.
Mrs. Jasinski dropped Sasha off with a bottle of wine and Mom let Holland pour out a glass for everyone. Mom was in a mellow mood that day. She said she’d wasted too much time complaining about Mrs. Scofield and that she was making a birthday resolution to begin looking for a new job. We all cheered at that. Then Holland brought out the marble cake she’d bought at Loblaws and we sang off-key.
“This is lovely,” Mom said. “Aren’t you three sweet to do this.”
Holland bent down and kissed her cheek. “Happy birthday.”
“This is lovely,” Mom repeated. “I feel so spoiled.”
That’s the kind of thing that would normally make me flinch. I’d stare at the wall or pretend I wasn’t listening, but inside I’d be thinking that she was the opposite of spoiled. She never went back to school like she wanted; she didn’t even talk about it anymore. She hadn’t dated any other guys after Dad. Maybe he’d ruined relationships for her or maybe she was just too tired or thought it would upset Holland or me. That had to be lonely and to make it worse, sometimes I didn’t even want to talk to her.
But I didn’t think that on her birthday. I accepted a huge piece of marble cake, devoured it, and asked for seconds. Then we went into the living room and watched her open birthday cards. Holland and I had sprung for a bouquet of lilies and a bottle of Mom’s favorite perfume. Sasha had picked out bath beads and a salad recipe book that was nearly as thick as my law textbook.
Mom sucked in her breath as she unwrapped the book. “That’s perfect, Sasha.” She flipped through the glossy pages, pointing out recipes she intended to try. “‘Tossed mushroom and walnut salad,’” she read, tilting her head to one side. “I think I have the ingredients for this one in the cupboard.” I groaned jokingly and Mom tapped my knee, her lips zooming into a smile. “Thank you, Sasha. You’ll have to come over and share one sometime.”
The cards were mostly from people Mom had worked with at the library. She still went out with them for dinner on the last Thursday of every month. There was one from my aunt Deirdre and her family too and Mom’s parents in Thunder Bay. They’d called to wish her a happy birthday just before we’d started dinner. There was only one true surprise in the pile. A card from Dad. It had a picture of a champagne bottle on the cover and said:
Celebrate your birthday in style.
Dad had signed it: All the best, Cole.
Mom flipped back to the cover and then opened the card for the second time. “Funny,” she said, more to herself than to us. “He didn’t send one last year.” Holland and I exchanged worried glances, but Mom just set the card down with all the others.
Sasha helped me load the dishwasher. We kissed in front of the fridge. Mom caught an eyeful when she walked into the kitchen but pretended she hadn’t and squeezed by us. “It’s so nice that you could come, Sasha.” She patted Sasha’s shoulder, poured herself another cup of coffee, and went back to the living room.
“You know you didn’t have to get her anything,” I said. “How much did you spend on that book?”
“My mom put some towards it too,” Sasha said.
Mrs. Jasinski was okay when it came down to it, a little uptight but a good person. She didn’t dislike me nearly as much as Mr. J. did, which was another point in her favor. She asked about my hockey games, although she knew even less about the game than Sasha did, and kidded around with us in the kitchen sometimes. There was no doubt in my mind what’d happen if she or Mr. J. found out that Sasha and I were having sex, though.
So we’d make sure they never found out. We had my dad’s one-hundred-dollar insurance policy waiting to be spent and we were careful. We were so careful that it didn’t even occur to me to worry. Not even when we had the accident. Maybe because it didn’t seem like an actual accident at the time, if you know what I mean. More like a blip. We were on round two when it happened and we fished out the condom, tore open a new one, and kept going, like it was no big deal.
Afterwards Sasha swung her legs over the side of the bed and said, “You’re okay, Nick, right? I don’t have to worry about that.”
“I’m okay,” I promised. “There hasn’t been anyone else, you know that.” Dani hadn’t put her mouth on anyone but me. That was practically like zero sexual contact.
“Okay,” Sasha said, grabbing her underwear from the floor. “I know.” She buttoned her top and then tugged her jeans on while I did the same next to her.
I walked her home and we talked about my mom sending out her first batch of resumes and how more people were coming to GSA meetings since Nathan had joined at the beginning of November. They were doing an awareness campaign with posters and stuff around school and Ms. Navarro stressed that she was always available if people wanted to talk.
I was thinking about that, wondering why it was so hard to talk about certain things even when people offered, as we turned onto Sasha’s street. She stared down at the end of the street, her eyes as big as tennis balls, and let go of my hand. “Shit!” she exclaimed. “My dad’s already home.”
“So tell him you were at Lindsay’s.” I reached for her hand and squeezed.
“And if he saw you?”
“Okay, then we were at Lindsay’s.”
“Grea
t, it’s nice you don’t have to worry about it anyway,” she said curtly.
“Hey, I worry.”
She looked straight ahead, her bottom lip wobbly. “Right, like before.”
I stopped walking and started worrying. Just like that. One minute everything was fine and the next we were heading for a meltdown. “In my room?” I asked. She stopped next to me and bobbed her head. “Okay, you’re right,” I agreed. “We should be more careful. Maybe we should use something else at the same time.”
“You mean the pill?”
“Or the patch or whatever.” I knew we had to have that discussion sometime. I just didn’t think it’d be so soon and now that we were getting down to it, I realized I was pretty wound up about how she’d react.
Sasha’s eyes settled on mine and it was like her entire face had changed. I couldn’t tell what she was thinking and that made me feel worse.
“What about today, then?” I added. I hated to say it, but now that we’d started down that road, I couldn’t ignore it either. “Maybe we should go to the clinic on Fairmont—get those Plan B morning-after pills. Just to be on the safe side.
“It couldn’t hurt, could it?” I continued. “We could go tomorrow morning before I go to work.” The more I thought about it, the more it seemed like the right thing to do. Responsible. I should’ve thought of it before, but other things took over.
“Okay,” she said in an almost whisper. “Call me when you wake up tomorrow.”
I thought that’s exactly what would happen. I’d get up at seven-thirty, shower, and take the bus over to Fairmont. We’d get it taken care of and catch a cab back. She’d probably feel sick later, but it’d be for the best. Then we’d get serious about other birth control. We could handle it. People dealt with this stuff all the time.
That’s not the way it went, though. Nothing like that. Sasha called my cell two minutes after my alarm went off on Saturday morning and said, “I forgot that I have to babysit Peter this morning. My parents are going to a home-decorating show.” She breathed into the phone and waited for me to fully wake up.
“What time will they be back?” I mumbled.
“I don’t know—you’ll probably be at work by then.”
My brain was starting to fire up and I could hear the tension in her voice. “I’ll call in sick,” I offered. “They can’t be gone the whole day.”
Sasha hesitated for a long moment. It felt like yesterday all over again, almost like she didn’t even want to be on the phone with me, but then she said, “I wanted to talk to you about the whole thing first. I’ll come over later tonight, if that’s okay. I think…I think it would be good if we could really talk.”
“I have a game tonight.” I didn’t like the way the conversation was going. How was I supposed to concentrate on selling sports equipment and playing hockey when I didn’t know what was going on between us?
“Tomorrow, then.”
“Okay.” I was pissed off with her for making me feel like what’d happened was my fault, but I didn’t let it show. I thought about Sasha’s parents and the stupid home-decorating show, messing up the plan. There must’ve been something Sasha could’ve said to change their minds. She could’ve tried a little harder.
The situation was in the back of my head all day, but I worked around it and the next day Sasha came over with her parents’ permission, smoothing her hair nervously back behind her ears and whispering something about going outside. I threw my coat on and followed her out the front door. She shoved her hands deep into her pockets, sniffling in the cold. “You look mad,” she said. “Are you mad at me?”
“I’m not mad.” Edgy, more like. “Tell me what’s going on, Sasha. What happened to the plan?”
“Plans don’t always work out the way you want them to.” Lines crisscrossed her forehead as she curved inward. “I’ve been thinking a lot the past couple days and the problem is…” She skimmed the back of my hand with her fingers. “The problem is when I’m around you, I don’t think clearly. I just get caught up in…everything that goes along with being with you.” Her words were getting choppy and she was blinking like crazy. “Not that I didn’t want to be with you, but it’s like…I can’t get a grip…so maybe I’m still not ready for…” She searched my face. “I thought maybe if we took some time…” Her voice trailed off and the dread was so thick in the air that it stopped me dead in my tracks.
“You’re breaking up with me?” I winced as I said it. I couldn’t believe we were back there again after everything we’d been through. “This is because of Friday. You’re freaking out, I know. We should just go and—” I was freaking out too, but it was because of her. She couldn’t break up with me for something I wanted to fix.
“I’m not breaking up with you,” she cut in, her eyes as unhappy as I’d ever seen them. “But something like Friday happens and it turns into this big thing we have to deal with on our own so, yeah, it freaks me out. I don’t want to have to worry about things like that now. I want to worry about school. Stupid things even. What I’m going to wear to Lindsay’s Halloween party. Not about trying to get on the pill in case we have an accident.”
“Sasha.” I put my hand on her back. She squashed her lashes shut, her spine shaky under my palm. It killed me to see her worked up like that. “It’s okay. We’ll stop doing it if that’s how you feel.” I didn’t want to stop sleeping together, but I’d do it for her. It wasn’t the worst thing that could happen.
“I knew you’d say that.” She reached out and squeezed my other hand. “But it’s not that easy when we’re alone and in the middle of things. I mean for both of us. If we took some time off—”
“What do you mean by time off?” My neighbor Mrs. Ghomeshi strolled past with her daughter, the two of them in identical plaid scarves, and I waved at them, but I wasn’t smiling. “It sounds like breaking up.”
“It’s just temporary. So we can get a handle on things.” Sasha dug her fingers into my skin. Her mouth dropped open as she watched me. “I’m sorry. You know how I feel about you, don’t you? I just…I need this.”
“This is another test, isn’t it? Like Halloween.” My eyes were burning from the inside. I hated that she could do that to me. I was trying to be careful with her and she was breaking up with me. “So how does this one work? If we don’t talk for three months, you’ll be my friend?”
Sasha exhaled. Her breath was white on the air. “You’re twisting my words. Would you please just listen to what I’m saying? I need to slow this down and get my head together. But we can still talk. And if we can handle that, maybe we’ll be able to handle other things too.”
“That’s great,” I said bitterly. “So generous of you. Thank you.” I pressed my palms together and bowed.
“Nick!” She called for me as I turned away, but I kept walking. I walked all the way out to the main road and stared at the traffic. Somebody honked at me. A girl in a cheap domestic car. I didn’t recognize her, but she pulled up to the curb, rolled down her window, and motioned towards me. I trudged, zombie-like, to the car. People could’ve walked straight up to me and asked me to tie their shoes or drop their letters in the nearest mailbox. I probably would’ve done those things too.
“What?” I said. And then I saw it was Dani, looking as blond and gorgeous as ever.
“Well, hi to you too,” she said, frowning. “I just wondered if you needed a ride. It’s pretty cold.”
It was cold, but it didn’t matter. “Okay.” I shrugged. “Thanks.”
“No problem.” She’d never been to my house, so I had to give her directions. I must’ve sounded strange because she said, “Are you okay?”
No, not really. I mumbled something about Sasha breaking it off and Dani’s eyes rocketed over to mine. “You’re kidding,” she said. “I was sure you’d be the one ending it.” She reached over and touched my shoulder. “Sorry you’re upset and all, but I just couldn’t ever see the two of you together.” Whatever, Dani. “Trust me, you’ll be okay.”
“Yeah, maybe by graduation,” I muttered as we pulled into my drive.
Dani gave me a weird look, like she didn’t know whether I was joking or not. I smiled, but I could feel it come out wrong. Like a psycho that hunted down young girls in cheap cars or old ladies who took the bus. I thanked her for the ride and got out of the car. Dani would tell Vix and the rest of the girls and the girls would tell the guys and the guys (especially Keelor) would give me spaced-out looks and say Sasha wasn’t worth worrying about. This would all happen before eleven o’clock Monday morning and I seriously thought about staying home on Monday. Not to avoid that but to avoid Sasha.
What actually happened was even more pathetic. Sasha texted me at nine-thirty Sunday night and asked me to meet her at Coffee Time during law class on Monday. Sasha skipping class would’ve been a first and I didn’t want to look at her face and her stupid little hands on the coffee cup, but I went. I couldn’t stop myself.
I finished a hot chocolate before she got there and when she walked in, my chest started to collapse. Two older guys in short leather jackets turned to eye her up. Their crooked smiles made it obvious they were having dirty thoughts about her and that got me so mad that I wanted to kick their teeth in. Sasha went to the counter, bought two coffees, and sat down across from me. “Are you still talking to me?” she asked, sliding one of the coffees over to me.
“I’m here, aren’t I?”
“Yeah, thanks. I was scared you wouldn’t come.” She took a sip of coffee, her focus shifting between me and the laminated table.
“So what’s this about?” I demanded. “Are you gonna tell me what I’m doing here?”
Sasha knotted a strand of her hair tightly around one finger, her face sinking into her hands. “You’re not going to let me do this, are you? Can’t we at least try? Maybe if we take it slow for a while, we could get back to the way things were in the beginning and—”
I Know It's Over Page 11
