Center Ice (7 page)

Chapter Ten

- Tyler -

I got the phone call that night after dinner. I had to hand it to my dad; he wasn’t missing a trick.

“We’re so proud of you,” my mom said. “And, sweetie, I know it’s a lot of pressure, but you need to do the smart thing, right? I mean, it’s not just the money. That would help, obviously. Of course we’d love to be able to send your brother and sister to university. Or if Travis wants to play hockey, it’d be great if we could get him the best coaching, send him to all the camps…all the things you had to get by without. Of course that would all be wonderful.” I could picture her, sitting there in our tiny kitchen, tired after a long day at the school, where she worked as an educational assistant, looking after other people’s kids so she could put food on the table for her own. “But it’s not just the money, sweetie. You’re a role model. For your brother, for other hockey players, for the whole town. You’re showing them that if they work hard their dreams
can
come true.”

It felt more like I was showing them that if they worked hard their
dad’s
dreams might come true, but that probably wasn’t fair. It wasn’t like I didn’t love the game. Wasn’t like I didn’t
want
to play at the highest level I could.

“I’m working hard,” I said. It sounded sort of defensive.

“Of course you are. But, sweetie, are you working
smart
? Your dad’s worried about that. He thinks maybe you aren’t taking the best advice from people. I know your coach has an excellent name in the OHL, but your agent has just as good of a name in the
N
HL. Your coach knows how things are done where you are now, but your agent knows how things are done where you want to be.”

“I can’t get where I want to be if I don’t do well where I am now. And if I want to do well, I have to listen to my coach.”

“But this running thing…your coach isn’t the one who wants you to do that, is he?”

I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t have the argument again, couldn’t defend myself against requests that seemed totally reasonable to the people making them.
Why does he want to run?
they must be asking themselves.
Why is it such a big deal?
And I didn’t know how to answer their unasked questions because I didn’t really understand any of it myself.

By the time I got off the phone, I was softened up, just like I usually was after talking to my mom. I knew she’d be calling my dad and telling him she’d done her part, and I didn’t want to talk to him until I’d gotten my armor back in place, so I left my phone in my bedroom and headed downstairs. The Cavalis were sitting around on their front porch and invited me to join them, but I knew exactly what they’d want to talk about and I couldn’t handle another hockey conversation right then. “I’m meeting somebody,” I said, holding up my car keys as if they were some sort of evidence.

Mr. Cavali clapped me on the shoulder. “Enjoy,” he said with a little bit of a leer. Even knowing he was jumping to the wrong conclusion, it was still pretty gross thinking of him as someone who was aware of my sex life and thought he had the right to make any sort of comment on it. But that was just one more way that my life wasn’t really my own. It was like when I’d signed on to play hockey in Corrigan Falls, I’d signed away any right to privacy or to make my own decisions about much of anything.

I knew how much sympathy I’d get from any of the thousands of guys around the province playing their hearts out and still not making it to the OHL. I was lucky. I couldn’t deny it. So that just gave me one more thing to feel bad about. I wasn’t big or strong or fast enough, I wasn’t working hard enough, I wasn’t focused enough, I wasn’t thinking about my family enough, and I wasn’t even grateful enough.

I wanted to stop thinking about it. And that was when I realized why I was hanging on so hard to my morning runs. They let me turn my brain off. For that hour or so of my day, I wasn’t a hockey player, just a guy running through the forest. When Karen had first appeared, I’d actually thought maybe she was there for me, another hockey fan looking for some personal contact, but then I saw the way she ran, the efficient, ground-covering stride, the intense look on her face. Karen was running for reasons of her own, reasons that didn’t have a damn thing to do with chasing down some self-centered hockey player.

Toby Cooper, the team’s alternate captain, had a girlfriend who was always totally jacked in to what was going on around town, and I’d talked to her after training that afternoon. She’d told me why Karen was in town, and how she was connected to the Beacons, and knowing that had helped me understand things. Karen wasn’t impressed with my shit because she had her own stuff going on, stuff more serious than anything I’d ever had to deal with. And even with all that, she was still fighting, trying to find her place and be herself and make up stupid stories about imaginary constellations.

I smiled as I headed for the truck. When I’d left the house, I’d just been trying to get away from my phone, but now I knew where I wanted to go and who I wanted to see. It wasn’t smart, but I didn’t seem to care. Being with Karen made me feel good, and that was what I needed right then. I just hoped she’d be okay with me showing up.

Chapter Eleven

- Karen -

Will stopped walking in the middle of the kitchen and turned to smile at me. He was in his early forties but still trim and boyishly handsome, and I knew that he expected me to find him charming. He’d been expecting that since I first met him a week and a half ago, and he didn’t seem to be realizing how totally unimpressed I was with the whole show.

“TV?” I asked. “We can tell Natalie that we talked.”

He looked tempted but shook his head instead. “I thought maybe we could go for a run, if your arms will let you. You like running, right?”

Okay, points for trying to bond over an activity that
I
enjoyed instead of making me go golfing with him or something, but still, “I ran this morning.”

“Maybe just a walk, then. You can show me the route you take, and maybe tomorrow I can run with you.”

I was still hoping Tyler would be at the park the next day; there was no way I wanted Will there, too. “I go pretty hard. If you’re just starting out, you’d get left behind.” But maybe I didn’t need to be quite so indirect. “Look, Will. I’ll try to cool it with Miranda, okay? I will absolutely not start anything, and if she pushes I will make a good effort to not push back. So we’re fine. We don’t need to do bonding activities. We don’t need to have a big talk.”

“And you’ll go to the counselor? And make a good effort there, too?” He ran both his hands through his dense blond hair and then locked his fingers together behind his neck. For a second I saw behind the charm, and he looked just as bewildered by the latest twist in his life as I was. But he pulled the mask back on and gave me a smile. “This isn’t just about you and Miranda not killing each other. It’s also important that you be okay. That you deal with the bad things that have happened, and…”

“Yeah,” I interrupted. “I’ll go to the counselor, and if he or she isn’t totally annoying, I’ll make an effort. Okay?”

He sighed as if he realized that he’d gotten all he was going to get out of me. “Yeah. Okay. And, look, Karen, if you need somebody to talk to, before we get all that set up…”

“I’m fine.” I pinned a big smile on my face.
See
? I wanted to tell him.
I’m trying to fit in. I’m learning to be just as fake as the rest of you
. But that didn’t seem like something that would end a conversation, and I was ready for this to be over.

“We also need to talk about you going out alone. Especially at night. It’s not safe. I understand that you get upset, but we need to know where you are.”

It was a little damn late for him to start acting like a caring parent. I shook my head. “It’s not like this is a rough town. And I have a phone; if I run into trouble, I’ll call the cops.”

“The trouble you run into might not
let
you use your phone.”

“We learned about this in sociology class; you’re falling for the ‘stranger danger’ myth. People
think
that it’s dangerous to be out alone, but the vast majority of violent incidents take place inside the home. I’m safer out there than I am in here, statistically.” I held up my arms so he could see the bandages. “And the theory’s supported by recent experiences, too.”

“Sore elbows are not the big risk here.”

“I’m fine,” I insisted. “And there’s no way I’m sitting around this house forever, and since I don’t know anybody up here, I don’t have much
choice
about going out alone.”

“Well, that’s something we should probably try to change,” he said with a confident nod of his head. “Matt and Miranda have plenty of friends, and maybe it’s time they introduced you to them. In fact, they’re going to some sort of party tonight, a ‘last weekend of freedom’ thing before school starts. I think you should go with them and get to know people.”

“That’s a terrible idea,” I said firmly. “Did you not just hear what Natalie said about me and Miranda staying away from each other?”

“You wouldn’t have to hang out with her,” he protested. “Matt could introduce you around.”

Matt hadn’t been openly hostile yet, but he and his sister were close. I had no doubt that he had the same problems with me that she did. Whatever they were. “I don’t think so,” I said. “But thanks for thinking of me. I’m just going to watch some TV.”

“Karen…”

“My arms are really sore,” I said, holding up my bent and bandaged limbs as proof. “
And
I took painkillers earlier. There’s almost certainly going to be some sort of alcohol at this party, right? So I’d have to either be the loser who won’t even sip a beer, or I’d risk a drug interaction. Alcohol and painkillers…that can’t be good, can it?” I gave him about a second to find a rebuttal, then headed for the basement.

I was flipping channels, trying to find anything worth watching on TV, when Will appeared on the stairs.

He was halfway down before I noticed that there was another pair of legs coming down behind him, and when I saw the expression on his face, I knew something was up. “You have a visitor,” he said cautiously, and then the person behind him came into view.

I sat up straighter and wondered desperately whether I had food stains from dinner on the front of my dress. “Tyler. Hi.”

“Hey,” he said. He sounded casual, but friendly, I was pretty sure. I mean, he was there…that meant that he was a friend, didn’t it? Was it just friends? Was he
too
casual? Were we just running-and-swimming friends, and he thought maybe he’d add a little TV watching to our schedule? If he actually
liked
me, he’d probably be more nervous, right? Unless he was just a confident person…

“Do you want to sit down?” My voice sounded more or less normal.

He glanced at Will as if for permission, then crossed the room on his long, strong legs. He was wearing loose jeans and another one of his faded T-shirts, the thin cotton draping just right across his shoulders and falling off his pecs. His brown hair was a little long and kind of flopped in his eyes, and he was absolutely gorgeous. I wanted to jump him, and maybe he could tell, because he sort of perched on the side of the couch instead of sinking back into the cushions.

“Sorry I didn’t call—I think the number’s unlisted, maybe, and I didn’t know your cell.”

“No problem,” I managed.

“I just, uh…there’s a party tonight, pretty big, at the beach. I thought you might want to go. Or maybe you’ve already got plans… Obviously this is late notice.” He looked at me, and there was something in his eyes that made me realize he
was
a bit nervous; he was just really, really good at seeming calm.

That gave me more courage. “This is my big plan,” I said with a cautious attempt at waving my arms around the room. “Watching TV. And there isn’t even anything good on.”

“Of course not,” he said with a shrug. “It’s Friday night, in the summer time. The TV people know that everyone’s going to be at parties at the beach.”

“Too bad about those arms, Karen,” Will said with an evil grin. He turned to Tyler. “I was trying to persuade her to give the party a try, earlier, but she had some really good points. Turns out it wouldn’t be safe for her to go out tonight.”

Tyler looked at me closely, trying to judge how serious this all was. I had long sleeves on, but he squinted at them as if he had x-ray vision. “What’s wrong with your arms? You okay?”

“I’m
fine
,” I said with a withering look in Will’s direction. “Just some scratches. A party might be a good way to get my mind off of things.”

“But what about the possibility of alcohol?” Will asked in an overly concerned tone. “The drug interaction?”

Tyler clearly knew this was part of something else, and he just leaned back and let us go. I shook my head at Will. “It’s been a while since I took a pill. I’m sure I’m fine.”

Finally, Will nodded, then looked back to Tyler. “You driving? Not a drop of alcohol, if you’re driving.”

“I thought we could walk,” Tyler said quickly. “It’s not that far.” He held his hands up defensively in front of him. “And I won’t drink much, anyway.”

“You’d better not. You’ve got practice tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir,” Tyler said seriously, and now it was the two of them who were on the same page and me who wasn’t sure what they were talking about. I didn’t really enjoy it.

But at least Will stopped being a pain about my change of heart, and he kept Tyler company while I went to get changed. I thought about Miranda’s criticism of my wardrobe and considered pulling on a pair of jeans, but then I remembered that she was a crazy bitch and I didn’t care what she said. My mom had loved sharing clothes with me, and she’d been big on personal style and avoiding the mass-produced look. I’d never cared that much until she was gone, but now it seemed important. So I found a long-sleeved dress with a lace-up bodice and a blazer in case it got cold. It was a vintage look, straight out of the eighties; I doubted there would be much appreciation for it in Corrigan Falls, but I liked it.

My hair I just piled on top of my head; there was no time for styling, and it would probably just get frizzy and wild near the water anyway. And it’s not like I’d be able to do much of a comb-out with my twisted arms. I managed to stretch the scab on one of them enough to put on some funky beaded earrings and a bit of lip gloss and mascara. With that, I was as presentable as I ever got.

I went back to the rec room and Tyler and Will both stood up like I was a lady or something. It was fun, but I knew I couldn’t carry it off for long. “Sorry for the wait,” I said to Tyler. “You ready?”

“Absolutely.” Then he shook Will’s hand, a move that was even more vintage than my dress, and we all trooped up the stairs and toward the front door.

Of course, it couldn’t be that easy, because just then Natalie and Miranda were emerging from the study. They both had red eyes and looked a bit beat up, so I guess their heart-to-heart had been more in-depth than Will’s and mine.

Miranda took one look at Tyler, turned back to her mother with her mouth gaping like a goldfish, and then brushed past us and ran for the stairs.

Natalie glared at Will, who seemed just as confused by the whole thing as I was. “Damn it…” she started, but then she broke off and followed Miranda up the stairs.

I looked at Will, who shrugged in confusion. “Who knows?” He seemed happy to not be involved. “Karen, you’ve got your phone and some money? You’ll call us if you need anything.”

“I’m good,” I agreed. “All set.”

He frowned at Tyler. “Matt and Miranda are planning to go down to this thing, too.” He glanced doubtfully over his shoulder. “Well, Matt at least. I’ll tell him to look for you there and say hi.”

“Does ‘say hi’ mean ‘check in’?” I asked. Just when Will was starting to be a little bit cool, he had to pull this. “Because I don’t need a babysitter, and if I did, I don’t think
Matt
would be the guy for the job.”

“I’ll keep an eye out for him, let him know where we are,” Tyler said from behind me. I didn’t like being talked over top of, and I would have elbowed him in the ribs if I wasn’t pretty sure it would hurt me more than him. But I had to admit, Tyler saying that seemed to settle Will down, and we made it out of the house without further incident.

We walked quietly for about a block, and then Tyler said, “I asked around about you. After I dropped you off yesterday. I was curious, so I asked some people.” He looked over at me. “So I know some stuff. I just…you know. I didn’t want to have to pretend like I was all surprised if you told me something that I’d already heard.”

I guess I appreciated his honesty, but that was about it. “You probably heard a lot of bullshit,” I said. “Miranda’s been telling her friends that I’m a stuck-up bitch.”

“That’s not what I heard,” he said softly. “It was more…about your mom. About why you had to come live up here. I’m sorry.”

“Oh, okay,” I said quickly. “Don’t worry about it.” I refused to start crying, which meant I really shouldn’t think about certain subjects. “I didn’t ask anyone about you, so you can give it to me directly. Like, how do you know Will?”

“Mr. Beacon—Your dad.” Tyler frowned like he was trying to wrap his brain around the multiple identities. “He’s one of the team sponsors. He’s pretty involved.”

“You left out some steps, there. What team? What practice are you going to tomorrow?”

He walked quietly for longer than made sense for such a simple series of questions, then stopped moving and turned to look me in the eye. “Straight up,” he said, “you don’t know what team I’m on? You haven’t heard about any of this?”

“Jesus, Tyler, is it the X-Men? Because if it’s anything short of superheroes, you’re being kinda dramatic.” But he didn’t laugh, just kept looking at me, and finally I shook my head and returned his gaze. “I have no idea what team you’re on. I hadn’t said a word to you or about you before yesterday, and right after you dropped me off last night Miranda and I got into a huge fight. We haven’t had time for gossiping about boys.”

He watched my face for a moment longer, then grinned self-consciously. “You’re right, I was being kinda dramatic. It’s not a big deal. But I play for the Raiders.” He waited for a reaction, but all he got was a blank stare. “Some people think that’s impressive,” he said.

“I don’t even know what sport that is.
The Raiders
?”

It took him a moment, but then he laughed. I got the feeling it was more at himself than at me. “It’s hockey,” he said with a grin. “The OHL.” He saw my expression and prompted, “The Ontario Hockey League? It’s Major Junior hockey, one step below the NHL.” Apparently I still wasn’t giving him the right look because he added, “It’s kind of a big deal! I’m the top scorer, team captain…”

“I don’t really follow hockey,” I said hesitantly.

He looked at me as if I’d said I didn’t breathe air. “What do you mean?”

It was my turn to laugh. “What do
you
mean? You think everyone in the world loves hockey?”

“Everyone in
Canada
, at least!”

“I don’t have anything against it. I just don’t follow it.” It wasn’t like I hadn’t known hockey fans in the city, but I hadn’t actually hung out with many of them. My mom’s artistic dancer crowd wasn’t all that into pro sports, and I guess most of my friends were kind of the same way.