Your Hand In Mine

- Kris -

I heard the whistle blow in the distance, signaling the start of our three lap around the rink. I hung my head, digging into the ice with my skate. On my first lap I was near the front of the team, but by the start of my second I was the whole at the back--last, actually. As I slowed down and the guy sped up, we would bump into each other on accident, and I would mumble a "sorry", but they never return it or said that it was okay. Most of them just sent me a look and kept skating. I let out a deep breath and dug in deeper, but it still seem like I was mile behind the rest of the guy. I just did not have the energy to catch up, and I did not really want to be there, either.

"Move your ass, Kris!" Jordan yell, leaning on his stick, waiting with the rest of the guy at center for me to finish.

I still had half a lap to go. I quickened my pace and finish my third lap and met the guy in the middle of the rink. Jordan just shook his head at me. If there was anyone who hate the way I had been acting since the night Shane left me, it was him. Sidney was a close second, but he was not as much of a dick about it. He was more.. understanding about it all.

I eventually had to tell everyone what had happen when they start to notice the way my mood had change. At first, they all felt bad about it, but then they started to get pissed because it effect my game and the amount of effort I put into playing, which was probably only seventy-five precent now, if that. That was the main reason Sidney, and Dan for that matter, were sick of dealing with me--my lack of effort. I could not blame them, though. I did not like the way my game had slowly start to go downhill, either. I knew I could not keep it up, but that was easier said than done.

Flower was probably the one who I talked to most, when I did talk. I mostly kept to myself and only spoke when I was spoken to. I rarely smiled and rarely laugh even though we have funny guys like Dupuis and Billy. Max was not harsh on me, either, and he even try to make conversation with me, but I just brush him off. I did not want to deal with him. He just made me think of Shane, not that I was not already thinking about her; she never left my mind.

The only other time I was like that.. was when Luc died.

"Brooks, you'll send the puck to Tanger who's going skate to the red line then to send it rink-wide to Geno. Geno..," Dan's word just went in one ear and out the other, which explain why I did not know what to do when it was my turn.

Dan blew the whistle hard and skate over to me after I passed the puck to Sid instead of Geno. "You've gotta fix whatever you're dealing with, Kris. Because it's not only bringing your game down.. you're bringing everyone else down with you," he told me. There was a slight bit of anger in his voice, but not much. His comment made me feel even shittier, though. He was pretty much blaming me for the way we were practicing right now. "Do your best to get over this by seven thirty tonight," he finish. I just nodded my head and tried to focus.

I left the arena shortly after morning skate, only speaking to Flower and Tyler because they say something to me first. Normally, I would laugh and joke around with everyone, but I had not in a few week. I missed messing around with them, too. But the hurt and heartbreak I felt, it took control of me.

I walked to my car and pull up to the gate then sign stuff for the small amount of fan standing there, like I alway did. Then I slid back into my car and head home. I took the long way back to my apartment, unsure of why I chose that route. I was spaced out the whole time, too. I looked out the windshield and window and everything went by in slow motion, but at the same time it was all a blur. It was like I saw everything, but I just could not remember any of it. I was distant and cut-off, like I was just there and not really living. That is sort of how I walked around now, though. Nothing rarely ever made me happier or brighten my mood.

Shane was everything to me, and now she was gone. My world pretty much shatter, again. And I was becoming someone I did not want to become, but I could not help it. I just wanted to drive to her apartment and apologize for everything and convince her that Max was behind the tally. I did not, though, and I am not sure why. Maybe.. maybe because I was scared that she still would not believe me, or that I would just hurt her even more, or maybe, both.

When I finally got home, I change into some sweats and a shirt, ate the same thing I ate before every game, then took a nap.

~!@#$%^&*()_+

The fifty-four second mark. That was when Boston scored their first goal, and it was all because of me. I turned the puck over at my own blue line, resulting in a breakaway for Lucic.

"GET YOUR FUCKING HEAD IN THE GAME, TANGER!" Matt scream at me. I reached for the puck and shot it back into the net through anger then skate back to the bench, like I alway did when Flower was scored on and I was on the ice.

"What the fuck was that about?" Brooks ask me, taking a seat to my left.

"I don't know," I answer with a sigh.

"You better get your shit together or it's going to be your head Dan's coming after," he told me. "You can't make those stupid mistakes again, it'll cost us the game." Despite how much I wanted to scream "You don't think I know that!?", I didn't. Brooks did not deserve my anger to be taken out on him; I could only blame myself.

I looked back to our coach and he just shook his head at me, not pleased with what had just happen. I turned back to the game and try to keep mind on the play.

My next shift.. I got check right into the glass. From the time I look over my shoulder to see Blake Wheeler bearing down on me, to the time I move the puck to Brooks behind the net, to Wheeler laying his body into mine, to my body collapsing to the ground.. it was all in slow motion. In those short few moment, I wonder if Shane was watching and if she cringe when I was hit, or if she was wondering if I was alright, or if she smile at the pain I felt when he threw me into the glass. I didn't know why those thought came to mind, but they did.

I slowly picked myself up from the ice, using my stick to help me, then moved forward to join the rush.

A little over two hour later, the game had finally end. We lost that game, five to one. I was the main reason for two of the five goal Boston scored. Lucic's breakaway was one, the other.. I took a penalty. Interference on Sturm. I was not in the box for fifteen second before they scored and made it four, one.

When the final buzzer sound, I hopped over the board and skate toward Marc-André.

"Désolé pour ce soir," I told him, hitting my glove on the top of his helmet.

"Vous gagnez, vous perdez une partie," he shrug.

We did not say much after that, just kept quiet. Well, I did. Marc-André let the loss go within twenty minute or so and was back to his normal self--smiling and talkative. It alway amaze me the way he was able to move on and bounce back so quick; it alway took me a little longer.

I sat down at my stall with a sigh and began to take off my black jersey and pads. I unlaced my skate and finish undressing then I was caught by the media. Now was not a time when I wanted to talk to them. I did it anyway, though. They ask me about Flower, what happen when I turned the puck over, if I was okay from the hit, and the loss in general.

When the reporter and camera all left, I hit the shower. I got a shower as fast as I could and hurry back to my stall, desperately wanting to get the hell out of that place.

"Some of us are going to get food. You in?" Jordan ask me, a dull tone evident, as I was sliding into my suit jacket.

"No," I shook my head. "Not tonight."

"Whatever," he said, clearly annoyed with my 'bullshit'. I just sigh. He did not understand, and I did not expect him to.

"Êtes-tu vraiment pas venir?" Max ask me as I was fixing my tie.

"No."

"Pourquoi? Je crois qu'il tu ferait du bien. Sors un peu, plaisanter.."

"Je rentre chez moi, Max," I reply.

He shook his head at me and walked away over to Marc-André. It was like they did not want to be around me anymore, but really, I did not even want to be around myself anymore. I was a completely different person, and I could not stand it.