Breakaway (5 page)

“Anyone you know?”

“Amber Kowalski.”

“That’s too bad,” he says, “but it shouldn’t surprise you.”

“I thought maybe there’d be a way for Sue to keep us all together.”

“That’s naïve, Jessie,” he says.

“I guess.”

“Are you worried about making the team?”

“I’ll be okay.” I find a spot to park in the lot beside the church. “I wish I could say the same for some of our forwards.”

“Who?” Breanne asks, unbuckling her seat belt.

She’s always listening when you think she isn’t.

“Never mind, Short Stuff.”

Jodi and Michelle are waiting for us in the lobby. They’re dressed up because they’re singing at the service. Two years ago I spent lots of time with Michelle, but she’s made it clear I’m no longer part of her inner circle.

“Quick change for you,” I say to Jodi, pointing to her black skirt. “Didn’t you get off the ice an hour ago?”

“My hair’s still wet.” Jodi squeezes a handful of black curls. “I’m bagged after that fitness testing. Aren’t you?”

“I had a nap,” I tell her.

“We should go in,” Michelle says impatiently.

We sit together in the second row. Evan takes the aisle so he can stretch out his long legs, and Breanne squirms into his lap. He slides closer to me and puts his arm around my shoulders.
When people try to get inside my personal space, it makes me uncomfortable. I lean ahead and put my elbows on the pew in front, as if I’m trying to get a better look at Pastor Matt.

He’s worth looking at. But I tune him out when he starts beating his “them and us” drum. I know I’m considered a “non-believer” because I haven’t made the trip down the aisle to give my life to Jesus.

Instead I think about tryouts. Poor Amber. Maybe we never should have gone AAA. My thoughts wander to my future, which stretches out before me like an endless blank page. I still have no idea what I’m going to take at university next year. What if I can’t play CIS hockey? What if I don’t get back together with Mark in time for my grad?

I feel Jodi shifting in her seat next to me, and I realize it’s time for her and Michelle to perform. When they go up to the front, Michelle slides behind the grand piano, and Jodi picks up her acoustic guitar and adjusts the microphone stand.

“We’d like to sing something new for you,” Jodi says. “Many of you are headed back to school and have tough decisions to make as you face your future. Michelle and I believe these choices will be easier with Jesus in your heart. This song is called
Risk
.”

Jodi and Michelle have been writing music together for two years. I think Michelle does most of the composing. She’s got a knack for writing poetry and scoring it with a melody that lingers long after the song is over. But it’s Jodi who gives life to Michelle’s compositions. She’s got this old school voice, childlike and seductive at the same time, not exactly suited for church music.

She opens her mouth, and the notes ripple out effortlessly, as if she was born to do it.

I connect with one of the verses.

I meet a faceless stranger

Cellphones in our hands

Our messages float in cyberspace

But our gazes never land.

We hurry on; the space between us

Stretches a fine line.

I’ve missed the chance to change his life

He won’t be changing mine.

When Jodi and Michelle finish, the congregation explodes in enthusiastic applause and whistles. Jodi smiles and touches her hair self-consciously then acknowledges
Michelle. Jodi’s so different from the party girl I used to know.

Breanne climbs onto my knees and slumps against my chest, sighing loudly.

“What?” I whisper in her ear.

“I hate when Evan goes away,” she says. “And when he’s gone, I don’t see you either.”

I bear hug her in response. “You can come watch me play hockey.”

She seems to take comfort in that.

I spend the rest of the service thinking about Evan. I sneak a glance every now and then at his profile. He’s so good to me. Maybe the only reason I don’t feel
that
way about him is he’s not drop dead gorgeous like Mark. And if that’s true, how shallow am I?

Here I am eating my heart out over a guy who belongs to somebody else, and missing out on something amazing, just because I’m focused on the wrong thing.

The wrong guy.

What am I doing, I think. What the hell am I doing?

–
Chapter Five
–

A
drive-in movie
is planned for after the service. Pastor Matt had a permanent screen built at one end of the church parking lot, and everybody parks their vehicles in front of it and tunes in to the church radio station.

The movie, which is about talking dogs and cats, verges on annoying. Breanne falls asleep after a half hour, and Evan puts her in the backseat where she curls up, using my hoodie as a pillow.

Most of the time, conversation with Evan is easy. He always asks about my friends, and he cares about my hockey. Sometimes he gets judgmental about the girls’ partying. It’s strange because I don’t like what they do, but I
hate
it when somebody else criticizes them.

Tonight Evan’s quiet. He leans against the passenger door, his seat jammed as far back as it will go to accommodate his legs. He stares fixedly at the windshield, but I can tell he’s not watching the movie because he doesn’t react to anything on the screen.

“What’re you thinking?” I ask.

He looks out the side window. “Nothing.”

“Did I do something wrong?” I ask him.

“You couldn’t,” he says.

I know he feels helpless, the same way I feel about Mark. Evan can’t control his own feelings, and he can’t control mine either. Only one person can change that.

I think about Michelle and Jodi’s song.

The strangers passing. Missing out. Risk.

“I think I want to go out with you,” I say quietly.

He doesn’t hear me because the movie soundtrack is too loud. No need to pull the words back.

Then I think about Mark and Holly. They probably have sex every time they’re together. Just like the rest of the girls on my team do with their boyfriends.

And I’m alone.

“Evan, I want to go out with you,” I say again, louder.

There’s no chance he doesn’t hear me this time.

“Jessie, don’t,” he says.

“I mean it.” I say the words with conviction because at least half of me needs convincing.

“You’re feeling bad because I’m leaving tomorrow,” he says. “You’re scared about what’s going to happen with hockey and school next year.”

I shake my head.

He stretches his long arms. “It’s time to go home. I have to make an early start tomorrow.” He looks over his left shoulder into the back seat. “Look at her,” he says. “I miss her when I’m away.”

That’s when I do it. I lean right over and kiss him.

I don’t know if Evan’s ever been kissed before. I know he’s never had sex because he says he’s saving himself for marriage. It probably hasn’t been difficult for him up to today.

I’m a rookie in the kissing department...not counting a June night long ago. I never had a serious boyfriend before Mark – and heaven knows Mark was a prude most of the time. If I knew
then
what I know about him
now,
I might have gotten him to loosen up.

So here I am kissing Evan, trying to convince him I’m serious about going out with him, and I’m thinking about Mark.

You shouldn’t be doing this, that infuriating little voice warns me.

The voice that takes the fun out of everything.

Something about the way I’m kissing Evan must change his mind because suddenly his hands are tangled in my hair, holding me close, but not too close. He pulls back after a minute and takes a deep breath.

“Wow,” he says, shaking his big head. “Where’d you learn to kiss like that?”

He’s easily impressed, my little voice says. Wouldn’t the truth shock him?

I ignore the voice, bent on pursuing this thrill ride on the SS Jessie Mac.

“I’m serious, Evan. I want to go out with you.”

“I’m leaving for Calgary in less than twelve hours. You’ve had all summer. Why did you wait so long?”

“I didn’t know it until a minute ago,” I tell him.

“Look,” he says, “I resigned myself to this ‘friend’ thing a long time ago. I didn’t like it, but I had no power to change it.” He holds both my hands and squeezes them gently. “Jessie, if you’re not serious, please don’t do this. It’s not fair.”

His last three words echo in my brain. Where did I hear them before? Who said that?

“I
am
serious.” I lean over and kiss him again. To convince him I mean it.

To convince yourself, my little voice says.

You’ve been wrong before, I tell the voice. Why should I listen to your sanctimonious crap this time?

Evan lets me kiss him, and when I pull away, he takes a long, shuddering breath. “You better mean it.”

“I do,” I tell him.

Breanne stirs in the back seat then snores lightly.

“I think you should take us home,” Evan says.

“I think we should
talk.
”
I grab one of his hands and squeeze it. “Then we should neck some more. How does that sound?”

His expression is priceless.

It feels wonderful to know how happy I’m going to make
him.

–
Chapter Six
–

S
unday night.
The last scrimmage is history, and the final roster for the Estevan McGillicky Oilers is posted in the rink lobby.

Sue’s cuts so far haven’t been surprising. Amber Kowalski. Two girls from Stoughton who never showed for fitness testing yesterday morning. Some thirteen-year-olds from Estevan who were too light in the pants. A Radville girl with no hands at all. One from Redvers who couldn’t do the drills.

Even so, I don’t have the guts to look. Instead I stand a healthy distance away, equipment at my feet, and watch the girls’ faces as they check the roster.

Kathy’s first. The set of her shoulders is confident as she scans the names. She turns away after a second, catches my eye, and gives me a thumbs up. She high-fives Randi and Carla. Miranda sidles up, and Kathy throws an arm around her shoulders and points to her name.

So far so good.

A girl from Lignite moves closer, and they part to let her through. She scrutinizes the names for several long moments, and I can tell by the sudden droop in her shoulders that her name is missing. She pushes between Kathy and Carla, picks up her equipment by the door, and walks out.

Crystal, Larissa and some girls I don’t know find their names on the list. They congratulate one another and exchange compliments. The team chemistry of the Estevan Oilers starts to evolve.

“I knew you’d make it.”

“Anybody hear when our first practice is?”

“Can’t wait for our first league game.”

It’s heartwarming – and sickening – at the same time.

Jodi finds her name. Jennifer and Amy find theirs.

A girl from Alameda doesn’t make the cut. Nor does one of the Carnduff girls.

Teneil comes up the stairs, drops her hockey bag beside mine, gives me a nervous smile, and approaches the group. Scans the list of names, then scans it again. Miranda is smiling and talking to Randi. Obviously she never noticed her best friend’s name is missing. Teneil’s muttered curse is Miranda’s first clue something’s wrong. Miranda reaches out to touch her shoulder, but Teneil wrenches away, sobbing, and heads straight towards me.

“I’m sorry,” I murmur.

She hoists her equipment onto her shoulder and scrapes her nose with the back of her hand.

“Why are
you
sorry?” she demands. “You made it, and I didn’t! So much for controlling what we can control!”

Her parents are standing by the arena entrance. Mr. Howard has to step aside so she doesn’t swipe him with her hockey bag as she swears and storms out. Mrs. Howard looks like she’s been kicked in the stomach.

I think of the times I’ve carpooled with the Howards.

Shit.

Miranda approaches me. “It’s not fair. Teneil should get to play her last year of Midget.”

“Last season she always picked volleyball over hockey,” I remind her. “Don’t you think Sue remembers that?”

Miranda walks away, muttering.

I try to imagine a dressing room without Amber or Teneil.

But I can’t.

–
Chapter Seven
–

I
t’s the first day
of my last year at Estevan Comp-rehensive School, and I’m headed over to Amber’s house to pick her up. The morning is bright and beautiful and breezy. Since it’s been raining steadily for the last three days, it sucks that we’ll be cooped up inside the Comp for six hours.