Out of Play

I turn to see Mom and Gramps making their way through the crowd of tightly packed people, and my high slows.

“Mom. You’re in scrubs?” I ask. “Are you ever not working?”

It shouldn’t matter, I’ll be going out with the guys tonight anyway, but still.

She pulls her mouth into a small frown. “I’m sorry, but I’ll be home tomorrow, and I should be awake in the afternoon.”

I’m straining to hear her over the noise. “Okay.”

Mom glances behind her again, but there are people everywhere.

“Nice job, Pe

“Yeah, thanks. Ben, right?” I think I remember this guy as someone Mom and Dad went to high school with or something. He starts to speak, but there are voices shouting and music playing over the loudspeakers, and it’s all too much.

Mitch grabs my waist, pulling me backward, and I scream in surprise. In seconds, I’m also pushing off Matt and Chomps and half the team as I head for our bench and my skate guards.

“We’ll see you at home! Love you!” Mom calls as I’m buried in guy smell, hockey gloves, and sweaty gear.

I slide on my guards when I see Bishop looking a bit wide-eyed and twitchy off the side of the rink. I get two more slaps on the back as I head to the corner Bishop’s in. Only there’s still a sea of people in here all telling me congrats, and I’m starting to feel like I just need to get to him.

“What’s up?” I ask, when I finally make it to where he’s half-plastered against the wall, knowing something big is definitely going on.

“I need air. I mean out. Air.” He gestures with his hand and won’t look at me.

“Uh…I need a shower,” I tease, but he doesn’t react, so maybe this is not a teasing kind of thing.

He looks all amped up on something. His eyes won’t focus on anything, and he can’t stand still. “It’s cool. I’ll…” But it’s obviously not cool.

“Let’s get out of here.” I take his hand in mine, and he squeezes me with a death grip. I’d never tell him that, of course.

“Yeah. Thanks.” He hardly gets the words out.

I lead him out the back door. The first thing he does after relinquishing my hand is light a cigarette with shaky fingers. I nearly try to hug him to see if it helps, only Bishop and I don’t touch that way. I have no idea what to do.

We walk in silence toward my truck, where it’s parked in employee of the month parking because I know Rick, and he’s almost always employee of the month and doesn’t mind.

Bishop drops his half-smoked cigarette in the snow, gets in the passenger’s side, jerks off his hat, and immediately slumps in the seat with his eyes closed.

Holding onto the open door, I wait for him to say something. He’s starting to freak me out a bit. “Are you okay? You’re not going to hurl in my car, are you?”

“Shit. I just needed out. Air. Crowds.” He does this weird breathing thing. In. Out. In. Out.

I still want to touch him, but I’m afraid to. I reach in like three times until I remember what works for me. “Punch something. That breathing shit never works.”

He shakes his head like he’s trying but still doesn’t look at me. “Damn…You’re something else.”

A few random shouts and the sound of car engines starting swirl around us. Neither of us speaks for long enough that it’s starting to get weird, and I get this need to break the silence.

“Crowds freak you out?” I ask slowly.

“I’d rather not use the words ‘freak out.’” His eyes close again, and his hands tremble in his lap.

It’s awkward to stand in all my gear, but I also can’t leave him. “Is this where you tell me who you are? Why you’re up here renting out all the cabins even though they’d be empty anyway?”

He lets out another desperate sounding chuckle. “No.”

“I’m going to shower so I don’t stink up the truck. Oh! These were dropped off at my school. They’re from Pat.” I dig in the side pocket of the passenger door for the drumsticks and hand them over.

Bishop takes them and immediately starts twirling the sticks, still with his eyes closed and still with the weird breathing. “Nice of him.”

“I think he has a crush on you,” I tease.

“He’s cool to talk to. We’re both into music.”

They talk?

He spins the sticks a few more times before blinking and then closing his eyes again like he’s not ready to see the world. “You were wild out there, Pe

The high from my game slams into me again, and with it comes the thought that he gets it. Or is maybe trying to. “It’s why I love it.”

He nods and keeps twirling, eyes still closed, breathing still regulated, and starts beating soft rhythms on my dash. At least he knows better than to slam those things onto Bitty.

Finally, after what feels like forever, he looks at me. “I get it…why you wa

“Give me ten minutes to shower and get my gear. K?”

He stares at his drumsticks, letting out another slow breath and attempting a smile that looks more like a grimace, but at least he’s trying. “Want any help with that?”

I get a flash of what it would be like to have him helping me. His fingers on the skin of my shoulder, and his dark eyes staring into me the way they did the night I sat in the hot tub and he told me I could do anything. There’s a tension and a want in the nerves that course through me at my over-active imagination that I don’t know how to deal with. My cheeks flush before I can find words. “You must be feeling better.”

His eyes finally meet mine, and vulnerable Bishop is back. The one who makes my legs go weak. “Thanks.”

I have to exit the situation because it’s suddenly so intense I don’t know what to do. Having a guy crush on me is one thing. Having him get me and my decisions is something else entirely. This wasn’t part of my plan. “See you in ten.”

…

Since dropping Bishop off at his cabin, I’ve done nothing but try to redirect my thoughts with the help of some ridiculously loud music. I don’t want to be thrown off by someone I just met. I know what I want. I want the future I’ve always relied on, and some of that future depends on a guy at this party, not a guy I don’t know. By the time I pull into Matt’s, my head is relatively clear, and I’m finally ready to celebrate instead of over-thinking about someone I shouldn’t.

I find Mitch, and my stomach starts twisting with a sense of urgency that hits me hard. I have to do something. Say something. We graduate in a few months. He’ll leave for college. It looks like I might leave for college. My heart hits harder with each thought. With how my future suddenly feels so uncertain.

He’s rehashing some part of the game, but his words get lost in my thoughts and the pounding music.

“And then this girl.” He grabs me from the side and hugs me to him, kissing my forehead. Chalk one more action up to confusing. “Made that insane goal in the first—” His voice fades out as I breathe him in, only…Only it doesn’t feel like I thought it would. Not tingly and exciting.

When Mitch’s hand drops from around my shoulders, he hands me the bag of keys. He knows the drill—he got here first, so he picked up keys. Routine. Safety.

“Thanks,” I say blinking stupidly at the mesh sack in my hand.

The guys keep going over plays, which I normally love but I’m still staring at the bag of keys like I know something’s different, even though I can’t put my finger on it yet.

“Holy shit! Becca! How’d you get out?” Mitch sprints to the front door, leaping over the couch on his way, and scoops her off the floor.

He walked away from me without a second glance and is now looking at her like…like…like I know he’ll never look at me. It feels as if someone punched me in the gut because it seems official now. He’s left me for her. And I guess…I don’t even know what to think about it because it feels both easier and shittier than I expected. But maybe that’s the point. I expected. I’m not even sure why this is different from yesterday when he held her or the day before. If it has something to do with me, or with them, or maybe it has to do with the fact that Mitch’s future is looking more solid all the time, and I’m not sure how much a part of it I’ll be. That’s the part that’s sucking the air from my lungs and feels so horribly unexpected.