Hockey Is My Boyfriend: Part Two (17 page)

BOOK: Hockey Is My Boyfriend: Part Two
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“I agree,” said Karen. “That’s why we made an exception and tried a second one. Both were fails.” She crooked a finger down in a flaccid motion.

“Sorry, boys, buh-bye,” April told them, waving. We picked up our drinks and walked away. I was dragging Jimmy by the wrist. We stopped partway and then clinked our glasses together and laughed our heads off.

“Is something going on here?” asked Jimmy, who had finally recovered his powers of speech.

“Not at all,” said April sweetly. She pointed at his face. “You may want to take all the lipstick off your mouth though.”

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“And if you haven’t played Team U.S.A. yet, their confidence may be down a bit,” suggested Karen.

30
No Luck Club

J
immy took
us over to meet his teammates. Sometimes I had to admire April’s skills. From a tiny photo, she had managed to select Marc Gagnon, who was extremely hunky in real life. His hair was long and dark, and he looked a little sleepy but hot in a feline kind of way. He was totally built as well, with huge arms and a broad chest. He had shed his jacket and tie, and had rolled up the sleeves of his black dress shirt. Jimmy introduced us and Marc seemed friendly, but he hardly spoke any English. Jimmy added something in French, which had them both laughing and me wishing I paid more attention in French 11. Even though April's last name was Lachance, the only French phrase she knew was “
Voulez-vous coucher avec moi ce soir?
” but in this case, that might be the only phrase she would need.

April took a long look at Marc, ran a hand through her hair and smiled. “Well, hello there, Marc.”

Man, she should have been bottling her charm and selling it. I was ready to go to bed with her when she used that purring voice.


Allô
,
April.” He grinned at her and gave me a wink as well.

Seconds later they were out on the dance floor. I wasn’t sure if any words were even spoken. I guess that was how the pros did it. And speaking of pros, when I turned around, Karen was already seated in a booth with five guys around her, odds that seemed about right. She gave me a finger wave.

Jimmy and I sat together in another booth to get caught up. I wouldn't have minded dancing, but Jimmy didn’t dance unless he had been drinking, and without the nice little wristband he wasn’t drinking in this room.

“You know, Kelly, you seem so different here, in Vancouver with your friends and everything.”

“Oh really, in what way?”

He wasn’t any different; after seeing him play so well, I was totally turned on and wanted to have sex. That didn’t seem likely tonight, but I could sit right next to him and have some body contact anyway. He smelled extra good tonight, a mix of cologne and himself.

“I don’t know. You seem like you were one of the cool kids, you know, in high school. I sure wasn’t.” He seemed to want to say more but was unable to express it.

Was I one of the cool kids? I didn’t think so, but April and Karen definitely were, and we were all good friends. Did any of this stuff actually matter after high school?

I changed the subject to hockey, and we started talking about the differences between the teams and the biggest competition for Team Canada. As we were talking, I was playing with his tie and touching his arm, but he was being the captain and trying to set a good example. Rats. I wondered whether we were going to get a chance to be alone this week.

Later, I noticed Marc Gagnon was back and talking to the guys. I guessed April had moved on, but it was hard to understand why. April was a little on the fickle side sometimes, not with girlfriends but definitely with guys. The slightest thing could make her drop someone.

I excused myself to go the washroom and on the way back I had a look around for April. When I saw her, I was totally shocked. She was making out with this guy on the dance floor. He seemed to fit all her criteria: he was about six feet tall, very blond and super handsome with movie star good looks. But still, she had just met him.

I interrupted Karen and her male harem to ask what we should do.

“Do? April’s a big girl, she can take care of herself.”

“But maybe she’s had too many of those appletinis, and we need to rescue her.”

“She looks pretty happy to me.”

We both looked, April was laughing at something Blondie had said. They were doing a lot of hand motions, so it seemed there was some kind of language barrier.

“Aren’t we supposed to be wingmen? Sisters?” I asked.

“God, Kelly, I can tell you won’t give up on this. Let’s go and talk to her. We’ll get an idea of where she’s at.”

We walked over. Now April and Blondie were sitting in a booth with some other guys.

“Hi there,” Karen greeted them. A chorus of keen hellos came right back at her. “We came to check on our friend here.”

“Oh hello, you are friends of April’s,” said one fellow with a heavy Scandinavian accent.

“Kelly! Karen! I’m making friends with Team Sweden here. Kelly, you may be right about hockey players after all—especially my friend here—whose name I can’t actually say.” She giggled and mimed at him. “What’s. Your. Name?”

He smiled and he was seriously cute in a healthy Nordic way. “Bengt Sjoblom.”

April was giggling her head off, between swigs of her appletini. Who knew how many she had had so far? “Isn’t that the cutest little name?” Her head slumped a bit and she went to support it with her hand and missed. One of the signs of the drunkopocalypse.

“Please. Join us.” One of the guys shoved someone else out to make room for us.

I gave Karen a questioning look, and she nodded at me.

“April, I think it’s time to blow this popsicle stand.” I told her.

“Actually, I think the only thing I’d like to blow is—”

I cut her off and took the drink out of her hands. “Sweetie, I’ve got your back here. I think you’ll thank me in the morning. If not, I’m sure I can get Benny’s phone number here, and you call him later.”

I mimed a phone to the Swedish guy, and he stared blankly at me. So I pulled out my cell and he finally got it. To save translation time, I handed over my phone and he put his number in. I don’t think he spoke any English at all. He looked pretty sad I was taking his playmate away.

“Wait,” said April. “I totally have to kiss Benny goodbye.” And she went over and planted a big messy kiss on his lips. You didn’t have to understand Swedish to know what his teammates were saying then. After they finally came up for air, I dragged April away.

As we were making our way to the exit, Jimmy stopped me.

“Where are you going? It’s not that late yet.”

“Oh sorry, I was looking for you. We have to take April home, she’s totally out of it.”

“Couldn’t you send her home in a cab and stay?”

“No, I’ve got my car, and we’re all sleeping over at Karen’s place tonight.”

“Okay, well, I’ll call you and we can get together, maybe tomorrow.” He looked pretty sad too. I gave him a kiss, which turned into something pretty intense for the middle of the club. As usual, hooting broke out. Obviously, my girlfriends and I were supplying the entertainment tonight.

“Is there anyone you want to kiss goodbye?” I asked Karen.

“Actually this guy I was talking to, he's the goalie. Very cute.” she replied. I thought she was kidding so we proceeded to the door. I propelled April out and past our friend the doorman.

“Night, ladies,” he said. He had probably seen the same thing a million times.

Once we got in the car, we strapped April into the back seat. After I took off, I told Karen to grab the World Juniors program from the seat pocket, the same one April had ordered her dates from. I had a sneaking suspicion about something.

“Karen, look up April’s new boyfriend for me.”

“Yes, wasn’t he a cutie?” April piped up from the back seat.

Karen had no idea how to spell his name, but the photos helped. With her unerring sense, April had picked the cutest guy on the team.

“Okay, here he is: Bengt Sjoblom.” Karen turned his name into six new syllables never before heard in Stockholm.

“What year was he born in?” I asked.

“1989? Oh my God, April, he’s seventeen years old!”

“What? How can that be, he’s like, so tall? Plus, isn’t there a limit on ages?”

“Yeah, the limit is nobody over twenty,” I replied, smiling. I wasn’t going to have to listen to any more insults about Jimmy’s age. “Grrrr,” I purred at April.

31
Waking Up Phil

I
was running
errands for my mom when I ran into Cameron Elliott at Parkgate Mall. This reminded me that I hadn’t yet heard about our annual reunion hockey tournament yet. It wasn’t a real tournament, but there were usually four teams and some pretty competitive play. Drinking afterwards was mandatory, and I was particularly welcome since I could be counted on to invite lots of girls to the after-parties. I had brought my gear home in anticipation. Cameron organized our team, which was basically Jerry’s old team, plus a few ringers.

“Hey, Cam, what’s happening with the hockey tourney?”

“Oh hi, Kelly. I heard you weren’t playing this year.”

“What? Of course I want to play. Who told you that?”

“Phil told me. He said you were busy this holiday, I forget why.”

“So not true. Can I still play?”

Cameron frowned. “I don’t know. The team’s pretty full already.”

“Gosh, that’s too bad. I think April was looking forward to our after-party. Oh well, maybe Josh Edwards is looking for players.” I knew Cameron’s weaknesses, and I wasn’t afraid to play them.

“Well, hold up there. Guys are always not showing up. I’m sure I can squeeze you in.”

“Great. When is the first game?”

“Tonight, actually. Ice Sports Blue at 10:00 PM. Tell April, and whoever, we’ll be done at 11:30. Drinks there first, and maybe heading to Phil’s after. I’ll email you the rest of the schedule.”

Ouch. Keep me off the team and don’t invite me to the party. I picked up my phone to call Mr. Buttinsky and complain, but then I disconnected. Phil had caller ID and might not take my call, especially if he suspected I was going to chew him out. But I knew his habits. If we had a game at 10:00 PM, then he would be sleeping right about now. And Greta hated wasted time, so there was nothing she would like better than to have to wake him up.

I arrived at the Davidson’s front door and took a deep breath. No matter how old I was, I had a frisson of fear when I had to face Greta.

I knocked on the door, and Greta opened it.

“Oh hello, Kelly.”

Deep breath. “Hello, Mrs. Davidson. I’m here to see Phil.”

“I don’t think he was expecting you.”

“Really? He said he would be done his nap around 4:00, and I should come to see him to discuss strategy for the game tonight.” Although not normally a good liar, I was used to lying to Phil’s mom since the truth always got Phil and me into bigger trouble.

“Well, it is time he got up, for sure. I will wake him. Please have a seat in the living room.”

I wouldn’t have minded watching Greta wake up Phil with the news that Kelly was waiting in the living room. Talk about a shock to the system.

He came down after a few minutes. He wore sweatpants, an old t-shirt with holes in it, and bare feet. His hair was pointing in multiple directions.

I decided to hit him while he was barely conscious.

“Hey, Phil. Thanks so much for trying to get me off the Christmas tourney team. And for not inviting me to your house for the get-together tonight.”

“Uh, what are you talking about?”

“You know. I saw Cameron today, and you told him I was busy and couldn’t play hockey. How would you know since you haven’t even spoken to me since I got back?”

“I assumed you and the Porn King would be busy together. Now that you’ve played with NHL-calibre players, wouldn’t you be slumming in our beer league?” Phil was wide awake now and sneering openly.

“The Porn King? What are you talking about?”

“Oh, so April can keep her mouth shut, can she? I saw what you did last summer, Kelly.”

That took me a minute to process. And then I got it.

“You saw the photos? How?”

“I was the one who found them and told April in the first place. I had almost forgotten how photogenic you are.”

Fuck. All the nausea of that original incident was coming back to me. I believed nobody else I knew had seen those photos. But Phil wasn’t exactly the type to be checking out hockey boyfriend sites.

“How did you find them?”

He looked embarrassed and wouldn’t meet my eyes. “I had a Google alert on you, so I could see your hockey news, like when you were McGill athlete of the week.” Then he did look up at me, and his expression was scornful. “Why would you go out with a guy who would let stuff like that happen?”

“He didn’t take the photos, someone else did. We didn’t know.” Phil and I had had sex outdoors too, the difference was that nobody was stalking us. I started to get mad. After all, it wasn’t like he spent the school year at a monastery.

“Oh please, Phil, like you’re an angel. I mean, can you not learn how to untag on Facebook? Every weekend I get to see how many girls you can cram on your lap at once. Or you playing tonsil hockey.”

“I do untag, it’s not my fault you’re up two hours earlier.”

“Well, untagging doesn’t undo what you’ve done. We’re not even going out so you don’t get to be jealous. Plus, don’t you have a girlfriend?”

We heard his mom’s footsteps approaching.

I raised my voice. “I think we need to go with an aggressive forecheck against Jason’s team. Let’s try to get the early goal. Then we can keep the good players on D in the third period.”

Phil caught on right away. “A trap could do it for us, but it’s so boring to play. Have you improved your skating since I last saw you? We could use some speed down the side.” Even his fake talk was insulting.

Greta entered with some milk and these yummy almond cookies she made every Christmas. At least some things hadn’t changed around here.

“A little snack. Are you still enjoying McGill University, Kelly?”

“Very much. But I find the winters cold there.”

“Cold winter is good for the blood and the stamina.” She turned to go, and I thanked her for the cookies. She smiled at me. At least I think it was a smile, because I hadn’t actually seen her smile much. “You should come over more often. We don’t see much of you. I think Phillip misses your company.” Then she left.

Good thing I was not eating or drinking at that moment, because I would have choked and spluttered.

“What was that about?” I asked Phil.

“I have no idea,” he said primly.

“You must have been bringing some total skanks around if I’m starting to look good to Greta.”

“No, I haven’t brought a girl home since—well, since you.”

We were both calmer now.

“I’m so sorry, Phil, that you saw those photos. Not what I would have wanted at all.”

“Not as sorry as I am. But whatever.”

“Okay, well I’ll see you tonight at the game.” I got up and got ready to leave.

Phil was watching me walk away. When I was at the door he spoke. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“So, who are all those girls in the photos? Random hook-ups?”

I had never mentioned the Facebook photos before, but it had hurt to see them. I guessed it was the same for Phil, seeing was believing.

He shrugged. I guessed he was back to his player ways.

But after avoiding Phil for a week, now I was seeing him constantly. A bunch of us were sitting in the bar at Ice Sports after our Christmas tourney game. April was tired and threatening to leave, and Cameron was busy trying to persuade her to stay so he could worship at her altar a little longer.

Phil came over to sit beside me, and I tensed up a little. Now that he was fully awake and mentally sharp, I was in trouble.

“Good game tonight, Sparky,” he began. His smile and use of my old hockey nickname were supposed to put me at ease, but they didn’t. “I heard you have two tickets to Canada/U.S.A. tomorrow.”

“Mmmm.” I was neither confirming nor denying this until I heard more.

“Take me to the game, Kelly.”

Ah, blatant pleading. I was in the driver’s seat for once.

“I love it when you beg, Phil.”

“Why? Does it take you back to the days we dated?”

“No, if I remember correctly I was the one doing the begging. I would be happy to take you to the game—on one condition.”

“No, I refuse.”

“You don’t even know the condition.”

“It’s going to require kissing the Porn King’s butt, isn’t it?”

“God, between you and April, it’s like he doesn’t even have a name. James!”

Phil laughed, assuming he had a partner in crime here. “What does April call him?”

“The Hottie,” I lied. She wasn’t listening, and there was no way I was giving him any new ammunition. “Anyway, if you came to the game, you would need to be nice. Which you are genetically incapable of being.”

Phil shrugged. “I can do nice. Watch this, you be James.”

I lowered my voice. “Hey, man.”

“Hi there, I’m Phil.”

“Oh hey, Phil. I’m James. Are you a friend of Kelly’s?”

“Well, in a manner of speaking, yes. Good game there.”

I returned to my normal voice, “‘In a manner of speaking,’ what does that mean?”

“Well, we’re not just friends, we do have a history. Would James be interested in knowing I was your first? Or that we usually have some hot reunion sex when we see each other again? Maybe he could use some tips—you know, for optimizing your pleasure.”

“This is why you are so not going. I haven’t even told him about you. And you and I haven’t had sex since the summer before last, so all that reunion stuff is not true.”

“Why Kelly, you stab me to the very heart. You haven’t even told him about me? Did you present yourself as a vestal virgin, pure as the driven snow? He must not be very experienced if you got away with that.” Phil was being sarcastic again, but he was getting uncomfortably close to the truth.

“Of course I told him that I had a serious boyfriend in high school. I didn’t tell him your name or anything about you. I didn’t need to, ’cause he’s not the jealous type. Unlike some people, obviously.”

Phil’s expression got serious, and he leaned in close and held both my hands in his. “I can see you’ve moved on, and you know I don’t stay home alone every night. But you can’t blame me for being curious about your new boyfriend. I’d like to meet him, and I can play well with others. Plus Canada/U.S. is always a great game.” And then he smiled at me, the first real smile I’d seen from him all day.

“Okay, you can go.” I was always a sucker for Phil’s smile, even if I was pretty sure he was snowing me here.

BOOK: Hockey Is My Boyfriend: Part Two
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