I Couldn't Be More Afraid

It had been over a week since my second date with Marc. I spent the first few days smiling like a schoolgirl; nothing happened after that kiss. The driver took me home and he held my hand throughout the drive, sharing simple conversation. He kissed me gently at my front door then disappeared back into the car. The Rangers had been on the road since two days later; at first he called and texted regularly, but then they got fewer and farther between.

I went to work on night and realized that it had been twenty four hours since I had even spoken to Marc. His last text had come the morning before with details on my tickets to the game the game two nights later, which would be when he first got home. I texted him a few times just little things, but he wasn’t responding. It was the longest he had gone without calling since our first date.

The bar was really busy, so I was able to go the whole night without thinking about Marc. My job was to flirt with guys around the bar who were watching a sporting event. Since it was a Sunday, the focus was on football and our football fans were amongst the rowdiest. They left bigger tips because they were weekly regulars rather than daily regulars; it was always a good payout. I wasn’t working with Leah that night, Sarah, one of the other bartenders, needed to switch shifts. Sarah was fast and extremely bubbly so the football fans absolutely loved her. While I preferred working with Leah, I didn’t mind Sarah as long as I didn’t talk to her too much since she was a little ditzy most of the time.

I woke up earlier than usual the next morning and there was still nothing from Marc. I had hours until I had to be at work, so I decided to play around online. When I was in college, I was online all the time, but since graduating last May, I didn’t have the time or interest to be on all the time. Although I’m not sure why, I Googled Marc just to see what came up. The first result other than his official Rangers page and his Wikipedia was a forum about his girlfriend; just for shits and giggles, I decided to click it. I was horrified by what I saw, there were girls in every city, even the ones he’d visited in the past week, talking about him flirting with them at bars and some of them even mentioned going back to his hotel room. They talked about how he would never call back after he slept with them. If I hadn’t already been worrying about whether or not Marc had moved on after he finally got his dates with me, I was at that moment.

The more I thought about it, I realized that I had no claim to Marc. We had been on two dates and it took him weeks for me to even agree to that. On top of that, all we had done was kiss once; he had probably been getting laid regularly since he first started playing in juniors back in Ontario. Why would he become practically celibate for some girl he met after a hockey game? I wasn’t his girlfriend and I had even told him this a few times, though not in those exact words. There was no reason either of us needed to remain faithful to the other…if I wanted to sleep with someone else, I could do that too. It shouldn’t have hurt as badly as it did to think that he was with other girls in the past week while I was sitting home wanting to talk to him. At least now I knew the reason that he hadn’t called me or texted me back, he was a little busy with whichever girl caught his attention for the moment.

My internet surfing was interrupted by my phone ringing. I hated to admit that I wished it was Marc, but when I looked at the caller ID, I saw that it was Kim.

“Hey,” I answered.

“Hey Lay, haven’t heard from you in a few days…how’s it going?”

“It’s been better.”

“What’s up?”

“Marc stopped calling and texting a couple of days ago and I found some website online where girls are claiming to have fucked him.”

“Wow, that sucks.”

“Yeah, but it’s not like I was his girlfriend anyway. We went on two dates.”

“It still sucks, I’m sorry.”

“Thanks.”

We talked about the goings on in Kim’s life and she tried to get my mind off of Marc for a little bit. She also told me to think about how reputable most of those websites are. Girls who admit to being puck bunnies online might just be looking for attention; they might not have slept with anyone. I knew she was right, but I couldn’t help but let it get to me.

There were two games on at the bar that night, the Rangers were at the Flyers and the Isles were hosting the Sharks. The Rangers and Philly game was going to be a lot more interesting to watch, but we had to cater to fans of both. Leah was back on her regular shift that night and immediately noticed that something was wrong with me. I didn’t get a chance to tell her anything because the owner decided to run a dinner special that week and the crowds for food were incredible. One of the servers called out, so even though Leah and I were bartending that night, we had to cover the food orders for tables outside of the bar as well as inside. We could both already tell that it was going to be a long night.

The hockey crowd started to arrive before all of the food patrons had left. Luckily, one of the servers was able to come in so that Leah could go back into the comfort of the bar. When I was taking drink orders from one table, I couldn’t help but overhear the conversation of the guys at the next table.

“Dude,” one said, “how much would it rock to be in the NHL?”

“It would be awesome. We’d get so many chicks.”

“They have one in every city. I heard they could get laid just by saying their names.”

“I would love that.”

I couldn’t listen to anymore. I went over to the bar and started mixing drinks and Leah asked me again what was wrong. After I promised to tell her when it calmed down for a few minutes, she dropped the subject. Leah wasn’t stupid, she knew that something had happened with Marc. If I didn’t tell her that night, she would find out the next night when we went to MSG for the game. Even though Kim was a hockey fan, she told me to take Leah to most games because her work schedule was too unpredictable and she worked through most of the games.

Listening to those guys was really starting to get to me more. I knew that Marc was a professional athlete before I ever got involved with him; it shouldn’t come as a surprise that he could be sleeping with any girl in any city. We only went on two dates; I could just be another girl to him. Maybe I made it too hard for him to get laid so he moved on to someone easier. I was too much work for him.

“Okay Layla, spill, now,” Leah demanded.

“I haven’t heard from Marc in a few days and I saw online that girls slept with him in the past week in whatever city.”

“Those chicks are crazy, they make shit up and you should know this. Marc is crazy about you, stop being ridiculous.”

“Are you sure, Leah? I think it’s all a game. He won the chase, he got me, he kissed me, and I didn’t invite him inside when he dropped me off, so he moved on.”

“Well regardless of whether or not he’s sleeping with someone else, he is playing games with you and I don’t think you should stand for that.”

I’m pretty sure the jukebox was possessed at that point because George Michael’s “Faith” came on and Leah sang along, extremely off key to the line “and I know all the games you play ‘cause I play them too,” then she turned to me and said, “we’re going to play right back.”

“What do you mean?”

“Why not play some games with him.”

“Does he even care?”

“What better way to find out.”

“I’m almost afraid to ask, but what’s the plan?”

“I’m not going to the game with you tomorrow night.”

“Huh?”

“You’re going to take a date.”

“Okay, Leah, stop being so cryptic and just tell me your plan. Where am I going to find a guy to take to the game? Remember that whole rule about dating bar regulars…where else…”

“No…you’re going to find one here. We’re going to have a little contest tonight.”

I looked at her like she was completely crazy. The only guys in the bar that night were regulars; they were all flirting with us as they always did, but they knew it wouldn’t happen. I knew these guys by name, some by nickname. Who did she expect me to bring to the game with me and where was I going to find him? My questions were answered a few moments later when Leah climbed on top of the bar and stood up with a megaphone.

“Attention please…Layla has an extra ice level ticket to tomorrow night’s Rangers and Islanders game…anyone want to go?” The bar erupted in cheers as she had the attention of absolutely everyone in the bar. “Well then…it’s Maxwell’s Trivia Time!”

I looked at Leah and said out loud, but to myself, “let the games begin.”

Throughout the night, one of us would ask NHL trivia questions and each guy who won would get a free shot and a raffle ticket; we probably asked about twenty questions over the course of three hours, with one or two at every commercial break in either game. At the end of the night, we put all of the raffle tickets into a beer pitcher to choose a winner. Everyone that had entered was someone that we knew pretty well from working in the bar for so long. I closed my eyes and reached into the pitcher while everyone’s eyes were on me. I read the name on the tickets out loud and saw that it was Jake Mueller; Jake was a great guy, he told us about his girlfriend all the time, she lived upstate. This was the perfect way to play games with Marc…if he even noticed me; there would be a guy in the seat that he expected to be occupied by Leah. He wouldn’t know that the guy had a girlfriend and was only there because he won a contest that we made up at the bar.

I went over to Jake before he left and made plans to meet up in front of Tim Horton’s in the middle of the stairs leading from Penn Station up to the Garden.

“Is your girlfriend going to mind?”

“Nah, she liked you when I brought her to the bar. Besides, aren’t you dating Marc Staal?”

“To be honest, I’m not sure.”

“Well, I guess we’ll find out when he sees you there with me,” Jake laughed.

---

Marc had texted me a few times the day of the game, but everything was very casual. He told me that my tickets were at will call and what time I should get there. I tried to ask about his time on the road, but he wasn’t answering. No matter how he felt about me, he was definitely playing a game. That boy was going to have to learn that Layla Carson was not a going to get played.

I decided to wear my Dubinsky jersey because I didn’t want Marc to get the pleasure of seeing his name and number on my back. When I arrived at Penn Station, I didn’t have to wait long for Jake. At first, it was a little awkward because I had never seen him outside of the bar before.

“Wow, I’ve never seen you so….covered,” he said laughing.

“I’m not sure how to take that,” I replied, “because I’m pretty sure you just said that I dress like a whore.”

“I didn’t say that,” he said mockingly, “just that at the bar, you dress a little suggestively.”

“How do you think I get my tips?” I laughed in response.

“Well, I guess the way you and Leah carry yourselves definitely has something to do with it…but there’s still something classy about both of you.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

That exchange seemed to break the ice and we were able to have normal conversations as we went to will call to pick up our tickets. We walked to our seats right before the team came out for warm ups. I made sure to laugh at whatever Jake was saying as I saw Marc skate onto the ice. He looked right at me; of course he knew where I was sitting since they were his tickets. We made eye contact as I continued to talk to the boy sitting on my right. The look on Marc’s face made me think of what I had said the night before and repeat it once again in my head let the games begin.