All the Way

H E R S H E Y , P A
U . S . A .

Hershey, Pennsylvania is cold in the winter. And not the brisk, oh-this-is-nice kind of cold; oh no, it’s the holy-fuck-I-can’t-feel-my-nose kind of cold. Which is precisely why I was getting annoyed waiting for my best friend to get his large butt out of his girlfriend’s apartment complex and into my car. He had insisted that we stop here on our way to the airport because he had something important he needed to tell dear Tiffany. But, as usual, all he had to do was flash me his bright blue-grey eyes and a little pouty face and I became putty in his hands. The truth was that I would do anything for John Carlson.

John and I had originally met in high school when he had arrived late for the first biology class of the year and was forced to take the only empty seat that happened to be next to me. Somewhere between learning about the classifications of organisms and the dissection of our female frog, John and I had become close friends. By the time hockey season rolled around, we had become close enough that he had near forced me to go to every single one of his home games and as many of the away games I could get myself to. Of course, it never really took too much effort on John’s part. The truth about John Carlson was that he never really had to try too hard to get me to do anything; there was just something about his easy-going, hockey player charm that I just couldn’t seem to resist.

After that year, things began changing for John. Hockey scout were becoming much more interested in him and the next thing I knew he was off to Indiana to play for the Indiana Ice of the USHL. After he left his junior year, I tried to keep tabs on how he was doing, but lost track a year later. I had since started college at Penn State, the Harrisburg campus, where somehow our fates had been intertwined once again. On a whim, one of my best friends and I had decided to go to a Hershey Bears game since they were in the playoffs and that’s where, for the first time in three years, I saw the name Carlson written on the back of a jersey. I had immediately bought a program only to find that it was, in fact, my Johnny Carlson from back in high school.

After the game, I hung around to try and catch John before he left. It was just like some magical cliché scene and we instantly went back to being the same close-knit friends that we were in high school; although I couldn’t help but notice that the years had, in fact, been kind to him. Once the Bears had won their 10th Calder Cup, John asked that I come with him when he went to Washington for the team’s development camp over the summer, and of course I couldn’t say no. When John didn’t make the cut right out of Camp, he asked if I would be willing to room with him back in Hershey. Spending time with John so recently had rekindled some old feelings that I hadn’t fully realized existed, so of course I jumped at the idea of living with him. From then on, I was always an intimidating factor when it came to John’s love life. On more than one occasion he referred to me as his human cock block, but to be fair, living with a near-professional hockey player was far more intimidating to any of my potential boyfriends than I was to any of his.

I had been waiting a good 15 more minutes and was about to text him angrily when John came jogging out of the building with a bright smile on his face. As of late, every time he had come back from seeing Tiffany he had been in a slightly grouchy mood so seeing his smile raised my suspicions. He happily climbed into the car and buckled his seatbelt before he finally turned to face me, that bright smile still on his face. I raised my eyebrow at him as he urged me to go ahead and get going or we’d miss our flight. “What happened to you? Did you eat a rainbow somewhere along the way?” John merely rolled his eyes at me and ignored the question as he set his gaze on the view out the window. He was used to my hatred of Tiffany, or any of his girlfriends really. I never thought that they were good enough for him. But then again they couldn’t have been too special since even John never kept them around for too long.

“Well,” I prodded after we had gone through a few more minutes of silence.

“Hmm?” John had obviously not been paying attention; another sign that something had happened.

“Why are you so happy?”

“We’re going to Saskatoon so I can finally play in World Juniors, duh.” That little smart ass was avoiding the real answer.

“Wanna try again before I drop your ass off here?” He looked out the window again, noticing that we weren’t even halfway there, and let out a sigh, but the smile reformed immediately as he turned his body so his full gaze was on me.

“I just dumped Tiffany,” he responded nonchalantly before switching radio stations to his station of preference. I, on the other hand, almost slammed into the car in front of me.

“You what?!” I did not see that one coming.

“Jesus Chels, what’s with the freakout? I though you couldn’t wait for my relationship with Tiffany to be over.”

“I did, I mean I do, but I just didn’t see this one coming. I mean usually I can read you like a book, but this came completely out of the blue.” We were at a stop light and I had turned to face him, trying to read his face and his eyes.

“Maybe you’re losing your touch,” he responded airily, resting back in his seat with his hands casually resting behind his head. I sent him a quick side glance.

“Don’t say that,” I murmured to what I thought was only myself. “So what happened,” I asked more clearly this time.

“I don’t know, I was just getting tired of her. She was becoming too clingy and I figured now was the right time. You know, going off to play at World Juniors just seemed like a cleansing period or something.”

“Yeah, I understand.”

Silence fell between us as we finally reached the airport. I parked my car in the long term garage and John and I unloaded our bags from the trunk and headed towards the main airport. Once we had cleared customs and security, we settled down in the waiting area. I could tell there was something else on John’s mind because he kept fidgeting in his seat and couldn’t stop playing with his hat. But rather than be my usually nudging self, I decided to wait it out until he would tell me himself. It turns out I didn’t have to wait long.

“Can I tell you something Chelsea?”

“John, you know you can always tell me anything,” I responded wholeheartedly, looking him straight in the eyes.

“I have some really high expectations for this trip.”

“John, I know Team USA isn’t exactly the favored team in this competition, but I wouldn’t say there are low expectations for you.”

“That’s not what I mean,” he replied hastily.

“Ah, so I take it this has nothing to do with hockey?” He shook his head.

“I really want this to be a cleansing trip. I don’t know, for some reason I’m hoping I’ll find out what I’m doing wrong.” This one threw me for a loop.

“What do you mean?”

“Chels think about it, when was the last time I had a reasonably stable relationship?”

I had to think back on that one. From all the time I had known John, back in high school and now more recently, he had almost always had a girlfriend. While most of his friends and teammates were more into having flings with girls, John had always been the more intimate one. He had never been afraid of commitment and, for most girls, that was a bit of a deal-breaker. Most girls who wanted to get with him were only interested because of his status as a hockey player, not for the incredible guy that he was. I don’t think I have ever met anyone who tried harder to hold a solid relationship. But no matter how hard he tried to balance his hockey schedule and his relationships, John never could find the girl who would stay with him no matter what.

“Sophomore year of high school; before you got picked to play at higher level hockey leagues,” I stated effortlessly.

“Exactly. I haven’t had a stable relationship since before I started playing more elite hockey.”

“And going to World Juniors is going to change that?”

“I don’t know. I’m just hoping that maybe it’ll enlighten me a little bit more in the sense of what I want out of my life, and that’ll happen to include the kind of girl I want in my life.”

“Wow. That was quite the epiphany Johnny. I’m impressed.”

John sent me a bright smile, obviously pleased with himself. Sometimes I wondered if his career was forcing him to grow up a little too fast. But then there were times like this, when he just showed off his still boyish charm and his need to just have fun. That was the John Carlson I loved.

As a PA announcement alerted us that it was time to begin boarding, John let out a noticeable sigh before sending me a large smile and standing up, offering me his hand.
“You ready?”

“To get on the plane?”

“For Saskatoon 2009.”

“I’m ready if you are,” I smiled up at John, taking his hand.

“Then let’s get this show on the road.”

I laughed as John bounded off to show his ticket before going to the tunnel that would take us to the plane. I followed closely behind him, just letting him freely act like any other average 20 year old boy off to play for his country. He turned around before we climbed onto the plane and sent me an indescribably ecstatic smile, before tugging me along and into our seats. Oh yeah, this was definitely the John Carlson that I loved; and the John Carlson I was sure was going to be wearing a Gold Medal around his neck in a couple of weeks.