He Shoots, She scores

Chapter Forty-Two: Weston | Better Late than Never

It's crazy has fast everything can change. Just a day ago, I was flying high on my way of becoming the next big thing drafted into the NHL. I had everybody rooting for me. It was a narrow path that led to a promising future. But in the blink of an eye, everything vanished.

John provoked me. Hence, I beat the shit out of him. I tried to explain this to the coaches and the refs, but they weren't buying it. It also didn't help that John only threw one punch back, so from the outsider perspective, it's easy to paint me as the villain. I guess in a way I am. Any sensible person would've just walked away. But my patience with John had long surpassed, and with the way he kept talking about my girlfriend, it was only a matter of time before my fist collided with his face.

John is fine. He will be, at least. It's not like he suffered a broken nose or anything. He just had to sit out the last game and be examined by the medics. Coach, being the adoring father he is, kicked me off the team right there and then. He refused to let his son play out of fear of a concussion. As for me, I've sustained a black eye and a bruised ego. 

I realized something then, as I was pummeling the shit out of John in front of hundreds in the stands. If I had truly cared about maintaining a reputation in sports, my ego would've talked some sense into me, and I would've walked away without leaving a scratch on anyone. But the truth was, I just didn't care. I knew Coach could and probably would kick me out, and I still chose to do what I did. There couldn't have been a greater wake up call.

After the game, my main concern was Gracie. I knew she was watching the fight unfurl from the audience. I don't want her to be scared of me, nor do I want her to think less of me. 

I walk out of the arena with my bags in tow, the last time I'll be carrying them, when I see Gracie heading my way from the guest exit. Her eyebrows are crossed together and normally I can read Gracie like an open book, but this time her thoughts are strategically concealed. With my right arm holding an ice pack to my eye, I say, "Gracie, I'm so sorry you had to see that."

"You should be sorry" she snaps. Gracie rises onto her tiptoes to pry my hands away from my face and examine the damage herself. Her scowl tells me it isn't looking too pretty. "That's going to be black tomorrow for sure." She sighs and crosses her arms. "Why would you do that? The whole team was counting on you, West!"

She seems to be more upset that I supposedly threw away my future than the fact that fists were exchanged. "Can we talk about this at home please." I start heading towards the car.

Gracie isn't having it. She grips my bicep and digs her heels in to halt us both. "Oh, no! We're having this conversation right now!"

"Fine. You wanna play the interrogation game?" My bag thuds to the ground. "How come you didn't tell me what John did to you?"

"Why else do you think, Weston! Because this! This happened, like I knew it would, and now you're expelled and everything is ruined!" She throws her arms around like she's doing some ribbon dance expo.

 "We're dating now. You should've told me what happened to you. We're not supposed to keep shit from each other."

She sighs. "I was trying to protect your future."

"Yeah, well, I'm trying to protect you." My body gets all hazy again thinking of what that prick did. Just picturing his hands on her sends a venomous wrath coursing through my veins. I tighten my grip on the ice pack. "I don't regret it, Gracie. I'm glad they kicked me off the team. I would happily punch John again." I start walking towards the parking lot once more. I can hear Gracie's steps behind me, struggling to keep up. 

"You don't mean that." 

"Uh, yeah, I do."

"I don't understand how you're okay with all of this. You do realize that the rest of your teammates are out there, playing this last game without you? What about all your hard work?" Her voice gets muffled with the wind behind me.

I shift my ice pack to my jaw, where a newfound throbbing is taking place. I stop and whirl around. "How do you feel when you're on stage performing?"

She stops, nearly colliding with my chest. She seems taken aback by my sudden question. "What?"

"Just answer."

When she huffs, a puff of white air swirls by her lips. "Happy. Excited. Fulfilled?" 

I nod because that was the answer I was expecting. "Exactly. Hockey doesn't give me that. At least, not anymore. I'm branching out now."

She doesn't seem satisfied with my response. "So you started a fight with John as a gateway to try new hobbies?"

"Wrong." I turn around and walk some more. "I started a fight with John because he touched you." I reach the car and open the door, throwing my bag into the backseat. "And because he's a fucking prick." The door slams shut with more strength than necessary. "The rest of it was just a bonus."

I guide Gracie towards the passenger seat and open the door for her. But she doesn't get in. Looking up at me, she asks, "So, that's it? No more hockey? Just like that?"

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

"I'm just worried for you."

"Don't be. I know it might seem like this was some impulsive decision, but trust me, quitting hockey was on the forefront of my mind for a while now. I'll figure it out." Keeping an elbow propped on the top of the car, I lean down towards her. "You're just gonna have to trust me on this." 

She cranes her neck up, squinting her eyes. "I trust you."

"You sure about that?"

Gracie plants a kiss on my cheek. "I trust you" she repeats, no funny business this time. All of a sudden, she starts getting uncharacteristically shy. She says tentatively, "I just can't believe you went through all that trouble for me."

"Well get used to it, because I'll do it again in a heartbeat." I touch her cheek. "I'm just sorry I couldn't have been there for you when it happened."

She shakes her head. "It's not your fault. Don't apologize."

"Still. Just promise me next time you'll tell me."

"I promise I'll tell you if you promise not to do anything stupid again like tonight."

I laugh. It occurs to me then that out of everything we've been through, I hadn't even taken her out on a date yet. A real, proper date. 

"I'll tell you what. I agree to not do anything stupid again if you agree that there's no more secrets, and, if you'll go on a date with me." My body leans in to close the gap. "What do you say, Lavergne?"

"A date?" 

"Yeah. Dinner. Lunch. Breakfast. Whatever meal of preference. That's what boyfriends do for their girlfriends."

Her face lights up like Christmas morning. "When?"

Even though I'm in pain, and my future is in jeopardy, and everything I've ever known suddenly feels a million miles away, as I'm staring at the girl in front of me, my life has never felt more right. 

"Right now" I say.

"Now?"

I don't have anything planned. I'm not sure where we'll go or what we'll do, but I just know that there's no better time than now. "Yeah. You're not busy, are you?"

"Hm. I don't know. Let me check to make sure my other boyfriend isn't stopping by-" Gracie laughs against my lips when I cut her short with a kiss. Her lips are cold. 

"Now get inside before you get pneumonia."