The Games We Play

Lacey stepped inside her apartment and was nearly thrown against the wall by Derek.

“What the fuck did I just see?”

Lacey’s eyes went wide. She was terrified of Derek when he was angry--it was a side of him that people rarely saw. Kenzie was seated on the couch on her knees, fully turned to face what was going on by the front door. Lacey shrank down.

“I don’t know.”

“I’ll tell you what it was,” Derek boomed. “Lacey, how could you let that happen? With Patrick Kane of all people! What are you going to tell Jonathan?”

“How did you even see?” Lacey questioned. “You can barely see the front door from the window.”

“He had half his upper body out onto the ledge,” Kenzie offered from her place on the couch.

Derek nodded in confirmation. “Lacey, answer me. What the hell is going on? I told you that going out to dinner with Patrick was a bad idea! Was it a date?”

“I-I...” Lacey stammered. “Maybe he thought it was, but I never did!” She buried her face in her hands as tears started to roll down her cheeks. “Oh my God, you guys, what am I going to do? I have to tell Jon, but I don’t know how...”

“Calm down, Lace,” Kenzie said, walking over and swatting Derek away. She put her arms around the shaking girl and led her over to the couch and sat her down. “Don’t worry. Just tell Jonathan what happened. It was only a kiss, and you didn’t even kiss him back...right?”

Lacey shook her head. “No I didn’t.”

“See?” Kenzie smiled, rubbing her back comfortingly. “He’ll understand. Yeah, he’ll be pissed off at Patrick, but what’s the worst that could happen? You didn’t do anything wrong. Just explain your side of the story. I promise, things will work themselves out.”

Lacey took in a shaky breath and exhaled slowly. “Alright. I’ll tell him tomorrow. Thank you, Kenzie.”

“Not a problem,” she replied comfortingly. She then turned to Derek and narrowed her eyes. “Way to overreact, ass.”

“Not an overreaction!” Derek huffed. “I’m just worried about what’s going to happen not only between you and Jonathan, but what about you and Patrick? What the fuck is going to happen if he keeps chasing you?”

Lacey bit her lip. “I’ll tell him to back off. He knows better, he’s not stupid. He just...he wasn’t thinking tonight.”

“I hope you’re right,” Derek frowned. “Not just for your sake, but for Patrick’s, too. Jonathan doesn’t look like the kind of person who takes things like this lightly.”

Lacey started to bite down on the back of her knuckles. “I just hope he won’t overreact.”

* * * *

“That fucker did what?!”

The next day, Saturday, Lacey went over to Jonathan’s apartment. She told him exactly what had happened and, as expected, he wasn’t taking it very well.

“Jonathan, calm down,” Lacey pleaded, putting her hands up against Jonathan’s toned chest. “It was a mistake, it was stupid. Please calm down, he didn’t mean anything by it--”

“Like hell he didn’t!” Jonathan bellowed. “I’ll gonna--”

“You’re not going to do anything to him, Jon!” Lacey urged, taking hold of Jonathan’s shaking fists. “He’s your teammate. You need him to play, especially with the San Jose series coming up. Just...don’t hurt him Jon, please?”

Jonathan closed his eyes and took deep breaths. “He kissed you,” he said finally. “He needs to know that it’s not okay.”

“I get that, but hurting him isn’t the answer,” Lacey insisted. “Confront him, talk to him. But please don’t hurt him. You’ve known Pat so much longer than you’ve known me. Hell, he’s your best friend! You can’t just throw your friendship away over some girl.”

Jonathan looked Lacey dead in the eyes. “You’re not just some girl. Never say that again.”

Lacey felt herself shrink under the intensity of Jon’s gaze. “Sorry...I-I just...”

Jonathan sighed and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. “Don’t be sorry. I’ll talk to Patrick.”

“Promise me you won’t hurt him?” she asked, barely in a whisper.

Another sigh. “I promise.”

* * * *

Jonathan sat in the visitor’s locker room at the HP Pavilion in San Jose. He rolled the hockey tape around his stick as his eyes scanned the room. Patrick was nowhere to be seen. He must be in the equipment room, he thought.

On the entire trip to San Jose, Patrick had been avoiding Jonathan like the plague. He sat on opposite ends of the plane, had his headphones in and specifically requested to room with Kris. Jonathan wasn’t stupid--he could tell when his best friend was trying to keep his distance.

Grabbing his skates, he went to the equipment room to get them sharpened. When he opened the door, he saw Patrick adjusting the length of his stick. Patrick looked up and his stomach dropped.

“Hey,” he said, trying his best to sound casual.

Jonathan didn’t say anything. He went and prepped his skates to be sharpened and put them aside, waiting for the equipment manager to come back from wherever he was to do it. Finally, he turned to Patrick, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Got anything to say for yourself?”

Patrick dodged his glare. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t fucking play dumb with me, Kane,” Jonathan spat, staring down at Patrick, who was still avoiding eye contact. “Lacey told me what happened. You want to tell me exactly why you decided to try and make a move on my girlfriend?”

Patrick remained tight-lipped.

Jonathan approached Patrick and shoved his shoulder roughly. “Look at me, Patrick.”

Patrick finally looked up at Jonathan, a defiant look in his eyes. “What?”

Jonathan held his arms up at his sides, as if beckoning. “I’m waiting for an explanation. Or an apology.”

“An apology?” Patrick sneered. “For what?”

“For kissing my girlfriend!” Jonathan barked. “What don’t you get about it? You’re supposed to be my best friend, you’re not supposed to go off and try to make out with my girlfriend when I’m not around. I think that it deserves an apology.”

“I’m not apologizing,” Patrick stated firmly. “Because that kiss wasn’t a mistake. The only mistake was that she ever agreed to go out with you in the first place.”

Jonathan was poised to lunge at Patrick when the equipment room door flew open and Sharpie walked in. Immediately, he sensed what was going on and threw himself between the two.

“Hey!” he shouted, stopping them both dead in their tracks. “Calm down, you two,” he said in a softer tone. “What’s going on, here? You’re both acting like little kids. Whatever the hell is going on, can you guys both just put it aside, at least for tonight? This is an important series. It’s the Conference Finals. If we beat the Sharks, we go to the Cup Finals. You’re not going to jeopardize the Stanley Cup for a girl, are you?”

They both spoke up at once. “She’s not just a girl--”

“I don’t care,” Sharpie interrupted. “Get your heads in the game. Whatever disputes you have, you can work them out after.”

The equipment manager came back, saw Jonathan’s prepped skates and got to work on sharpening the blades. Patrick shot Jonathan one last resentful glare, which he gladly returned, before storming out of the room and slamming the door behind him.