The Games We Play

Tuesday’s games for Jonathan and Lacey respectively had gone as well as they could have hoped. The Blackhawks beat the Canucks with a final score of 5-1, moving on to the Western Conference Finals and Loyola beat MSU in their second game with a final score of 1-0.

Jonathan came home the next day, glad to have some time off before the next series to rest. They were playing the San Jose Sharks next, a team that he was confident they would do well against, but he wanted to make sure that he, along with the other guys on the team, were healthy and ready for Game One on Sunday.

His immediate reaction as soon as the plane landed back in O’Hare was to call Lacey.

“Dude, you’re whipped,” Patrick droned as he grabbed his bag from the overhead compartment. “Give it a rest, will you? She doesn’t need to hear from you every second of the day. She’s probably at school or something, it’s one in the afternoon.”

“There’s nothing wrong with wanting to call my girlfriend, Pat,” Jonathan returned, a little more sharply than he had intended. “I know you haven’t had a real relationship in a while, but that’s sort of what you do.”

“Well, excuse me for wanting to have a little fun of my own instead of being tied down to a ball and chain for the rest of my life,” he snorted. “Have you two even had sex yet?”

Jonathan started to turn red. “First off, that’s none of your fucking business. Second--”

“Hey,” Sharpie intervened, stepping up from his seat, having heard the entire conversation. “Cut it out, you two. Stop acting like little kids. Come on, some of us want to get off this plane and go home.”

Jonathan sent Patrick one last irritated glare and, with his bags, exited the small private plane. He got his car from the valet Park and Fly terminal and drove back to his apartment. As soon as he set foot inside, he threw his bags onto the ground and sent Lacey a text message.

Are you in class right now?

It took a minute or so, but she replied.

Yup, in kinesiology. Class ends in half an hour, I’ll call you then. Congrats, btw. Proud of you :)

Jonathan sighed and laid down on the couch, flipping on the television. Usually the default channel was something sports-related like TSN or ESPN, but he didn’t really feel like watching highlights of their game against Vancouver or seeing himself getting interviewed awkwardly in the change room. Instead, he channel surfed for a while, almost stopping on MTV while Jersey Shore was on. His shameful, guilty pleasure. Just as he was changing channels again, deciding to keep his brain intact, his cell phone rang.

“Hello?”

“You were watching Jersey Shore and fist pumping, weren’t you?”

Jonathan laughed out loud at Lacey’s immediate accusation. “I was going to, but then I thought of how disappointed you would be in me so I changed the channel. How was class?”

“Good, the usual. It was just a lecture so it was fine. But enough about that, congrats on the win yesterday! You guys are headed to the Conference Finals! Are you excited?”

“You bet,” Jonathan grinned. “But now that I have time off, I can come see you play tomorrow.”

“Are you sure you really want to?” Lacey asked tentatively. It sounded like she was chewing on her lip out of nervousness. “I mean, you don’t have to fake an interest in soccer just because we’re going out.”

“Faking an interest?” Jonathan asked, genuinely confused. “What are you talking about?”

“Um,” Lacey laughed a bit awkwardly. “Maybe you should come over and I can talk to you about it? It’s a bit of a long story. Well, not long, but I still feel like it’s something I’ve got to get off my chest.”

“Sure,” Jonathan was still confused. “I’ll be over in ten?”

“Okay,” Lacey agreed. “See you soon.”

Jonathan grabbed his car keys from the kitchen counter and headed out the door. In a little under ten minutes he was in front of Lacey’s building. He buzzed her apartment and she let him inside. Soon he found himself outside her front door. He knocked and she immediately answered.

“Hey,” she smiled, standing on her tip toes to give him a quick peck on the lips. “Come on in.”

Jonathan stepped inside, never having really been in Lacey’s apartment before. There were lots of soccer trophies in a glass cabinet along with photos of her family--her mother, father and sisters, photos from her older sister Sara’s wedding, and pictures of her and Derek in their soccer jerseys holding medals from what he assumed was their soccer playoffs the previous year.

Lacey seated herself on the couch and Jonathan followed suit. They faced each other as Lacey sat cross-legged, her hands in her lap.

“So, I know this sounds really stupid and lame and immature or whatever,” she began, rambling. “And you’re not allowed to laugh or make fun of me for being dumb. Promise?”

Jonathan cracked a smile. “Yes.”

“Okay,” she inhaled and exhaled audibly before starting again. “So, I’ve only ever had two boyfriends in my life. The first one, when I was seventeen, Luke, and the second, Danny, from last year. Luke, even though we were only teenagers just getting out of high school, cheated on me more than once with more than one person in the five-month span that we were together. But oddly enough, he was the one who dumped me.”

Jonathan’s eyes were wide. “He cheated on you...and he broke up with you?”

Lacey nodded. “Yeah, to date one of the girls he was seeing on the side,” she ran a hand through her hair and shrugged her shoulders. “I think they’re still dating now. Must be love.”

“Must be,” Jonathan agreed in a grumble. “What an idiot.”

“Anyway,” Lacey continued. “The second, Danny, was a really nice guy, never cheated on me, treated me great and we dated for nine months. But he ended up dumping me too.”

“How come?”

Lacey hugged her knees to her chest. “Soccer.”

“Soccer?” Jonathan repeated. “Why...”

“He said I focused too much on soccer and my duties as captain and that I never gave him the time of day,” she explained. “He told me that I was hopeless and that I would be alone forever if I kept my life revolving around my team.” She looked up into Jonathan’s eyes. “That’s why I said that you don’t have to fake an interest just because I love soccer. I really like you, Jon. And I don’t want to lose you because of my dedication to some stupid sport.”

Jonathan chuckled a bit.

“You said you wouldn’t laugh!” Lacey declared, smacking him in the arm.

Jonathan kept laughing anyway. “Lacey, that’s absurd. Do you remember what I do for a living? I’m the captain of the Chicago Blackhawks. I think I know what it’s like to have people not understand when you’re dedicated to a team or a sport. There’s nothing wrong with wanting your team to succeed. Since I’m in the same sort of position as you, I can relate. I want to support you and be there for you when you win a game or when you lose a game and I can only hope you’d want to be there for me in those same situations.”

Lacey smiled and bit her lip slightly. “I do.”

“Good,” he grinned and closed the space between them, firmly placing his lips onto hers in a deep, slow kiss. After a little while, they pulled apart and Lacey broke out into a huge smile.

“So...you want to come to my game tomorrow?”

“Duh,” Jonathan smirked, giving Lacey a tiny shove. “Besides, I used to play soccer when I was a kid. People said I could’ve gone to be a pro soccer player. I may be a little rusty now since I gave that up for hockey, but I still love the sport.”

Lacey leaned back in and kissed Jonathan again, pushing him backwards slightly so that he was lying down on the couch and she was half on the couch too and half on top of him. She pulled away for a second looked up. “One second,” she told him, climbing off the couch. Jonathan looked over in confusion, but then saw that Lacey went to lock the front door.

She came back to the couch and took hold of Jonathan’s hand, tugging him to his feet. And, with a small, coy smile gracing her features, she led him straight to the bedroom.