A Game of Love

I was five years old when we moved into 303 Burlington Drive. The house was a fairly decent size with more than enough room for my three older brothers, my parents, and myself. My favorite part about the entire house was easily my room. Two windows faced the backyard overlooking a decent size frozen patch of ice; at first I could have sworn it was a pond that had simply froze over for the extra long winter, but after some observation I quickly realized it was man-made.

I distantly heard the sound of the doorbell going off, but I ignored it, my attention focused on the small figures playing, well more accurately skating, on the homemade ice rink. The smallest one slipped and fell, causing the other boys to stop what they were doing and laugh. One of the larger boys skated smoothly over to help him up, still laughing along with the others.

“There you are, Honey,” I heard a voice from the door, turning to see my mother. “I see you like your new room.” She smiled warmly as she gestured towards me sitting by the window.

I nodded my head, before turning back towards the skating rink outside, only to see the four boys staggering off the ice, skates thrown over their shoulders, and heading back to what I could only assume was their home. I frowned slightly, but forced a smile when I turned back to look at my mother.

“So the neighbors came by earlier,” my mother started, as I tried to pretend like I was interested. “They are a nice couple who lived next door; they invited our family over for dinner. Wasn’t that nice of them, Honey?”

Once again I nodded my five-year old head, only partly paying attention to what my mother was saying; my mind wandering off once again to the four little boys skating on the ice just right outside my window.

She offered me a smile, before walking further into the room. “Peyton, Honey, we’ll have to pick out a nice little dress for you to wear tonight.” My mother pulled out a lacey pink dress from my closet, but I immediately shook my head, causing my two brown pigtails to fly back in forth, nearly whipping me in the face. She laughed at my reaction before pulling out a simple, comfy blue dress.

I gave in with a simple shrug before grabbing it from her to put on.

“We’ll go over in a couple of hours, Honey,” my mother informed me a couple of minutes later after I emerged from my walk-in closet in the dress. “I need to go downstairs and whip up a dessert to bring over. Would you like to help me?”

“Yes!” I answered her, jumping up and down. I raced out of my room and down the steps, nearly running into my older brother, Nathan.

Nathan was five years older than me and he never ever let me forget it. At the same time though, out of all of my brothers he was the most willing to include me in things.

“You gonna come have a snowball fight with us?” Nathan asked me, looking down at me. I always hated how much taller he was than me.

I eagerly nodded my head, completely forgetting about baking with my mother, grabbing my warm winter coat, and pulling Nathan’s hand as we headed outside.

“Nathan and I versus Matthew and Peyton,” our brother, Charlie insisted, already beginning to pack a snowball in his hands.

“No way!” Charlie’s seven-year old twin, Matthew answered. “That is definitely not fair. I want to be on Nathan’s side!”

“Yeah, because that’s any more fair, pipsqueak.” Nathan shook his head. “Peyton and I versus you two idiots. C’mon Peyton let’s go come up with a strategy.” He bent down with his back to me and I quickly wrapped my arms around his neck, Nathan pulling me up into a piggyback.

I squealed as he started walking faster, away from our other brothers. “What’s the plan Nate?” I asked, excitedly. I always loved being on Nathan’s team.

“Okay,” he began, turning to look at me, still holding me tightly on his back so I wouldn’t fall. “I’m going to distract them and you are going to sneak behind them and start attacking them with snowballs, got it?”

I eagerly nodded my head, squirming around slightly so he would put me down. “I’m ready!” I called, snowball already in my gloved hand.

He nodded his head and ran out, but not before gesturing for me to go around the trees.

I walked out into the clearing, but all I could see was Nathan, who was shrugging his shoulders in surprise at me.

Out of nowhere a snowball came and hit me on the back of my arm, within seconds another was thrown at my other arm, and then another one at my back, all of them seeming to come from different directions. I looked up at Nathan to see he was having the same problem.

He ran over to me, picked me up, and shielding me from the continuing impact of snowballs being pelted at us.

“Stop cheating, guys,” Nathan called out to Charlie and Matthew, but was only greeted by sniggers.

“We don’t know whatcha talking about, Nate,” Charlie called back, still hidden somewhere in the trees.

“Yeah,” Matthew quickly agreed from somewhere else. “We aren’t cheating!”

I buried my head in my brother’s neck, cold from the wetness soaking through my clothes.

“You okay, Peyton?” Nathan asked me, as he tightened his grip on me so I wouldn’t drop.

We felt more snowballs being thrown at us, definitely from more then two different directions.

“We know you have help, guys, stop cheating,” Nathan called once again, earning groans from Matthew and Charlie, but nonetheless the emerged from their hiding spot, followed by four other boys. “Did you really think you were going to get beat that bad that you needed that much extra help?” Nathan questioned, raising his eyebrows at the troublemaking twins.

“Peyton isn’t being a crybaby again, is she Nate?” Charlie teased, completely ignoring Nathan’s previous question.

Nathan rolled his eyes, putting me down so he could put me on his back again. “Shut up, Charlie. Leave her alone. Are we actually going to make the teams even this time? And who are you guys?” he asked, gesturing to the four new boys with a nod of his head, his arms holding up my legs, as I tightened my grip around his neck.

“I’m Eric,” the obvious oldest stated. “These are my brothers Marc, Jordan, and Jared,” he informed us, gesturing to each boy as he spoke their name.

“I’m Nathan, this is my sister, Peyton,” he said, tilting his head slightly towards me. “And those two idiots are Matthew and Charlie.”

Eric nodded his head, obviously the appointed speaker of the family. “How do we want to do this, your family against mine?” he offered.

Charlie vigorously shook his head. “No way man, I don’t wanna be on Peyton’s team.”

Out of the corner of my eye I could see Nathan roll his eyes. “Fine. How old are you guys anyways?” he asked the four new boys.

“I’m ten,” Eric said proudly with a smile on his face.

“Me too,” Nathan answered right back. “She’s five, and the idiots are both seven.”

“I’m seven,” the boy named Marc answered. “He’s six and Jared is only four.”

“How about me, Eric, Jared, and Peyti, versus Marc, Jordan, and the two idiots,” Nathan finally suggested after a slight pause.

With nodding heads, the two teams departed to develop their new strategies.

“So you guys just moved here?” Eric asked Nathan, the four of us hidden behind trees.

“Yep. You guys live around here?”

Eric pointed to the house next to ours and it suddenly dawned upon me they were the four boys skating on the ice earlier.

“What’s the plan?” I asked, speaking for in the first time in a while.

Nathan offered me an encouraging smile as he put me down. “Want to just wing it?”

We all nodded in agreement and headed out, snowballs in each of our hands.

I giggled at Jared’s failed attempt to hit his brother, Marc, only to be hit hard in the back of my right leg by another snowball, pushing me into the snow face forward. Another snowball hit me on the back causing me to groan.

I felt arms come around, picking me up out of the snow. I turned to see Eric and I offered him a small smile.

“You okay?”

I nodded my head slowly, looking around for whoever threw the snowballs at me.

“It was Jordan,” Eric informed me, already knowing my silent question. “Don’t worry, I’ll get him back for you.”

I nodded my head in thanks, before him and I departed searching for members of the other team to throw snowballs at.

“Peyton, Honey”, I heard my mother call, causing me to turn and face her as she stood on our back porch. “Oh no! Look at you. Your blue dress is completely drenched.” I glanced down to see she was right, a new shudder of coldness quickly washed over me. “Come inside, Peyton, you need to change clothes before you freeze to death.”

She reached out, tugging me gently into the house, my face falling into a frown as I realized I had to miss the rest of the snowball fight. Following my mother, I marched up the stares, reaching my room. My eyes lingered on the ugliness that was the pink dress and I couldn’t help but wonder why I didn’t change out of the blue dress before the snowball fight.

The frilly, horrendous pink dress lay against my dark blue comforter as I tried to remember why I even had it. It was probably a gift from one of my grandmas who thought I would look cute in such a thing. Ew.

Reluctantly I pulled on the dress right as my mother knocked on my door.

“Can I come in, Honey?” her calm voice called out from the hallways.

“I guess,” I replied back, frowning at my image in the mirror.

The door creaked open, my mother’s face lighting up when she spot me in the corner of the room. She quickly made her way over to me, not hesitating to adjust the hem of the dress.

“You look beautiful, Peyton,” my mother cooed, standing behind me, her hands brushing over my long, blonde hair.

An hour and a half later my family found themselves standing on the Staal family’s front porch. After a brief pause, the door opened, revealing a tall, thin blonde woman. Her face smiled brightly as she gestured us into her home. She took our coats, hanging them up in the closet in the entryway as we all made our way into the kitchen.

In the modern kitchen, Mrs. Staal had certainly put her sons to work. Eric was transferring food from the cookware to nice dishes, Marc was putting dishes on the table, Jordan was filling up glasses of water, and Jared was getting the silverware out.

“Thank you boys for being so helpful,” Mrs. Staal commented as the four of them finished up. “Why don’t you take these guys upstairs to the playroom,” she suggested, gesturing to my brothers and I.

I gave a nervous glance over at Nate, not really wanting to go up with them, but he simply gave me a smile, grabbing onto my hand, and leading me upstairs behind the Staal brothers.

The room was large, filled with various toys; board games, an air hockey table, video games, and the like.

Eric and Nate immediately raced over to the video game system, challenging each other to a game. Jared’s face lit up as he went over to play with a set of LEGOs in the corner of the room, while the other four boys headed over to the air hockey table.

Unsure what to do, I glanced hesitantly around the room, pausing for a moment to stare at each of my brothers. Shrugging my shoulders, I headed over to the air hockey table.

Marc and Charlie were currently playing against each other and after a few minutes, Marc had won. Charlie frowned, putting down the red, plastic controller and moved over to the side of the table. Within a few minutes, the battle between Jordan and Matthew was getting pretty intense, with Jordan up by one. I couldn’t wait for the two of them to finish, so that I could get a turn at the game and it wasn’t long before Jordan managed to slip one past Matthew, winning their match.

“Can I play now?” I questioned, looking back between the four boys.

“Girls aren’t aloud to play. Hockey is just for boys!” Jordan exclaimed, glaring, meanly at me, his eyes falling to my ugly, pink dress. “Why don’t you go play with a Barbie or something!”

I could feel my eyes well up with tears as I fought to keep the warm, salty mixture from sliding down my pale cheek. His words echoed over and over again in my mind as I tried to stand my ground for as long as possible. That didn’t last long. Soon I was turning on my heel, my hair whipping up behind me as I ran out of the room, desperately trying to remember my way back downstairs to my mommy.

Nathan’s voice sounded as he questioned my brothers about what happened, but I was out of earshot to hear their responses.

Jordan Staal was a mean, mean, little boy.

Every encounter between the two of us after that first day seemed to be the same. He’d pull my hair, call me names, and protest my participation in any game our brothers played in. I couldn’t understand why he would act like that towards me, it wasn’t like I ever was mean to him, with a few exceptions of me acting off of what he said or did.

Our brothers would typically ignore it. Even when Nate was sticking up for me, Jordan would just be careful to say things he couldn’t hear or do things when Nate wasn’t around. Jordan never seemed to fail at bringing me on the brink of tears.

Eventually I gave up completely. I stopped hanging around the Staal brothers and my own brothers so much, and when I did hang out with them it was because Jordan had something else to do and wasn’t around. I made my own friends, a couple of my classmates at school, and hung around them. They weren’t really into to air hockey or snowball fights, preferring games like jump rope and simple figure skating, but I never complained, just going along with them. It was just nice to have friends.

With the exceptions of a few occurrences, I succeeded in avoiding Jordan completely. Our families would have dinner together a couple times a month, but I would never even take a glance at the young boy, not wanting him to pull my hair or tease me again.

For the next ten years I managed to pretty much stay clear of him, but I wished that would have lasted longer.