Sequel: "You Can't Stay a Saint in This City" ›
Status: Complete ... For Now
Lost In Pacific Time
We'll Leave, Got Different Places To Be
“I hope your car is bullet proof,” Amber says as we drive through the Downtown Eastside. It’s basically the part of town that Tourism Vancouver tries to sweep under the rug. It’s pretty bad here, okay more like really bad. The streets are lined with homeless people pushing shopping carts and basically doing drugs out in the open. It’s drab here like the colors have all decided to run together and form a quiet grey. It’s not the Coal Harbour sophisticated, sleek, modern grey, it’s more a depressed worn out grey.
Amber’s texting someone as I drive, someone important I suppose. From the corner of my eye I can see Amber tilt her head and smile ever the slightest at something someone texted her. That’s all I need to answer the question Jovan’s question, the one I previously had no answer for. Why do I like her? I could write a whole essay detailing why I like Amber as long as she was there as my muse. I like Amber because her smile lights up a room, even the sarcastic ones. I like her because I know that she’s a hard worker and does what she does because she enjoys it. Like me. I also like the way she looks at me, like nothing can ever go wrong when she’s with me. Like we’re perfect together, like she wishes things were different.
“Milan, what are you thinking about?” she asks as we approach my neighbourhood.
“Nothing,” I lie, like every other time we’ve hung out it feels like I’m living a flashback. A flashback only Amber and I are older. She can’t know, she can never know. I just want to be friends but it’s so hard when she’s so infectious I just want to reach over and give her a kiss and watch her cheeks turn pink afterwards, like the used to. “What are you thinking about Amber?” I ask her watching her watch the rain splatter against her window.
“I miss the whole neighbourhood thing they have going around here,” Amber explains.
“What do you mean?” I ask, honestly if Amber missed it so much she should’ve just moved back as soon as she made a name for herself.
“Here every neighbourhood has their own identity. In LA we don’t have that.” Amber explains, tracing her name on the window.
“We have that in Boston,” I say “I live in the North End with all the Italian restaurants.” And that draws a smile from Amber’s face.
“And here you live in East Vancouver, Hastings-Sunrise to be more specific.” Amber says as we drive into the garage. “Why?” she asks tilting her head to look at me.
“A lot of good things have happened to me here. You know how superstitious I am.” I tell her as we get out of my car.
“You mean like the Memorial Cup and stuff right?” she asks as we walk into my foyer, at least that’s what it said on my floor plan when I bought the house. Right now it’s just a space with white walls and shiny dark brown floors. Looking at the floors and then looking over at Amber I realize the floors are the same color as Amber’s eyes.
“Yeah,” I reply coolly as I walk her around the main floor. But a lot of other good stuff had happened to me at Hastings Park outside of hockey. It all involved Amber in one shape or form.
______
It’s Valentine’s Day; it’s been about a month after the World Juniors 2006 have ended. A month and I haven’t manned up and asked Amber to be my girlfriend. Around nine months ago I would ask her once a month whether she had reconsidered my previous offer and she gave me an overly detailed explanation and I accepted that. After all, there was always next month. However in early August last year it changed between us. It wasn’t a series of little changes that I couldn’t pinpoint. It was one big change between us. We crossed a line which I’d admit I’ve thought about many times, ever since popping her “hockey cherry” over a year ago. Last August 1st Amber and I … well we had sex. Long story short, her parents were away for the BC long weekend and she kind of asked me if I’d like to come over which was nothing out of the ordinary but then she told me to bring condoms and only then did I know which road we were headed down.
I had been with several girls before Amber but the way it was with Amber completely blindsided me. It was a completely different experience with Amber. We took our time with each other, knowing that her parents wouldn’t be back until the next night at the earliest. It was a far cry from the usual rushed and sloppy sex I was used to in the back seat of my car. In the morning I felt strange. Amber was asleep with her head on my chest and I got to look…really look at her. Most of them time when I tried to study Amber she would blush and turn away but here I could watch her face for as long as I wanted, or at least until she woke up.
Resting in my arms, I felt protective of Amber. I felt a weird ache in my chest as I watched her eye lashes flutter and her body shifted. I couldn’t imagine what I would do if this turned everything between Amber and I weird. The kind of weird where we avoided each other like the plague in the hallways and stopped talking. But sex didn’t turn our friendship weird…it made it painful, at least for me. I stopped asking her if she would be my girlfriend because now I couldn’t handle the pain her rejection would bring. It hurt just to look at her and knowing that no matter what I tried, Amber didn’t want to be my girlfriend. It wasn’t like hockey tryouts where a team would pass on me because my skating needed work. Skating I could work on, Killarney Secondary was kind of connected to Killarney Ice Rink, but she never told me specifically why she didn’t want to be my girlfriend. I try to be a nice person and I try in school but Amber still showed no interest. We had sex several times after that first time and every time it was amazing and only seemed to make my thirst for Amber worst.
I sigh as I walk out of the Giants’ dressing room. In the waiting area are most of the players’ girlfriends, I guess they’re pretty in a common, attainable way. It basically looks like as assembly of the most popular girls from every high school in Vancouver. Amber stands out by a mile. She isn’t wearing the unofficial girlfriend uniform: a Juicy Couture hoodie with pale blue True Religion jeans. She also isn’t clutching any sort of pink and red object. The other girlfriends all have some sort of stuffed animal or bouquet of flowers. I suddenly wish I did have something to give Amber, I know her favorite flowers are the pink ones with the pointy petals. Maybe I should’ve went to the florist and pick her up some of those, either that or roses, Amber likes roses too. But fat chance I’ll find any on the eve of Valentine’s day.
She’s sitting on the couch eating a chocolate chunk cookie from Costco from the platter they set up after every game for the media and talking to Penelope, who has a white teddy bear the size of a small child on her lap.
“Um, hi Amber” I say trying to hide how nervous I am.
“Hi Milan, you ready to go?” she asks looking up at me with a smile.
“Yeah,” I reply and I watch as Amber says goodbye to Penelope before pulling on her knee-length black wool trench coat.
We walk our familiar route that winds around Hastings Park before heading back to the parking lot. I could ask her any moment right now and tomorrow she could be my girlfriend. It’s a little overwhelming to say the least. Amber veers off the pathway and onto the playground where she jumps onto a frost covered swing and pumping her legs back and forth. I take the one next to her and it doesn’t take long before I’ve caught up to her.
“Amber?” I ask, god she’s so … beautiful. The way the faint light from the moon makes her skin radiant and shows that angles of her face.
“Milan?” she asks looking over at me and flailing her legs around to stop the motion of the swing.
“Amber, I want you to be my girl…I mean do you want to be my girlfriend?” great now I sound arrogant, like any girl in the province would want to be my girlfriend so why don’t you?
Amber gives me a small smile “I was wondering how long it was going to be until you asked me that again but why do you want me to be your girlfriend?”
“How long do you have?” I joke and Amber gives me a chuckle. I close my eyes for a moment and remember all of the times with Amber when I’ve wondered why we aren’t officially. “I really like you Amber. You’re smart, you’re sweet, you’re genuine, you’re talented, and you’re over looked all too often. But I see all of these things in you and more. You make me want to better myself because I see how much effort you put in to what you love.”
Amber’s quiet after my ramble. It doesn’t take long for the silence to turn awkward and I wonder if I shouldn’t have put my heart out there like that. “Milan…that was so…real, so raw” she says and she leans in really close. So close and I’m embarrassed by how sweaty my palms are. She kisses me with the same raw emotion while wrapping her arms around my neck and pulling me closer.
______
Now that she’s here in person I could ramble on for hours about Amber. “Why do you like her?”. Seeing Amber wander around my house with a tape measure in one hand and jolting down measurements with the other. All I have to do is think of that moment on the swings and the kiss on the swings afterwards. The more things change the more they stay the same. And it’s true; she’s still willing to put the effort and passion into what she loves.
Amber’s texting someone as I drive, someone important I suppose. From the corner of my eye I can see Amber tilt her head and smile ever the slightest at something someone texted her. That’s all I need to answer the question Jovan’s question, the one I previously had no answer for. Why do I like her? I could write a whole essay detailing why I like Amber as long as she was there as my muse. I like Amber because her smile lights up a room, even the sarcastic ones. I like her because I know that she’s a hard worker and does what she does because she enjoys it. Like me. I also like the way she looks at me, like nothing can ever go wrong when she’s with me. Like we’re perfect together, like she wishes things were different.
“Milan, what are you thinking about?” she asks as we approach my neighbourhood.
“Nothing,” I lie, like every other time we’ve hung out it feels like I’m living a flashback. A flashback only Amber and I are older. She can’t know, she can never know. I just want to be friends but it’s so hard when she’s so infectious I just want to reach over and give her a kiss and watch her cheeks turn pink afterwards, like the used to. “What are you thinking about Amber?” I ask her watching her watch the rain splatter against her window.
“I miss the whole neighbourhood thing they have going around here,” Amber explains.
“What do you mean?” I ask, honestly if Amber missed it so much she should’ve just moved back as soon as she made a name for herself.
“Here every neighbourhood has their own identity. In LA we don’t have that.” Amber explains, tracing her name on the window.
“We have that in Boston,” I say “I live in the North End with all the Italian restaurants.” And that draws a smile from Amber’s face.
“And here you live in East Vancouver, Hastings-Sunrise to be more specific.” Amber says as we drive into the garage. “Why?” she asks tilting her head to look at me.
“A lot of good things have happened to me here. You know how superstitious I am.” I tell her as we get out of my car.
“You mean like the Memorial Cup and stuff right?” she asks as we walk into my foyer, at least that’s what it said on my floor plan when I bought the house. Right now it’s just a space with white walls and shiny dark brown floors. Looking at the floors and then looking over at Amber I realize the floors are the same color as Amber’s eyes.
“Yeah,” I reply coolly as I walk her around the main floor. But a lot of other good stuff had happened to me at Hastings Park outside of hockey. It all involved Amber in one shape or form.
______
It’s Valentine’s Day; it’s been about a month after the World Juniors 2006 have ended. A month and I haven’t manned up and asked Amber to be my girlfriend. Around nine months ago I would ask her once a month whether she had reconsidered my previous offer and she gave me an overly detailed explanation and I accepted that. After all, there was always next month. However in early August last year it changed between us. It wasn’t a series of little changes that I couldn’t pinpoint. It was one big change between us. We crossed a line which I’d admit I’ve thought about many times, ever since popping her “hockey cherry” over a year ago. Last August 1st Amber and I … well we had sex. Long story short, her parents were away for the BC long weekend and she kind of asked me if I’d like to come over which was nothing out of the ordinary but then she told me to bring condoms and only then did I know which road we were headed down.
I had been with several girls before Amber but the way it was with Amber completely blindsided me. It was a completely different experience with Amber. We took our time with each other, knowing that her parents wouldn’t be back until the next night at the earliest. It was a far cry from the usual rushed and sloppy sex I was used to in the back seat of my car. In the morning I felt strange. Amber was asleep with her head on my chest and I got to look…really look at her. Most of them time when I tried to study Amber she would blush and turn away but here I could watch her face for as long as I wanted, or at least until she woke up.
Resting in my arms, I felt protective of Amber. I felt a weird ache in my chest as I watched her eye lashes flutter and her body shifted. I couldn’t imagine what I would do if this turned everything between Amber and I weird. The kind of weird where we avoided each other like the plague in the hallways and stopped talking. But sex didn’t turn our friendship weird…it made it painful, at least for me. I stopped asking her if she would be my girlfriend because now I couldn’t handle the pain her rejection would bring. It hurt just to look at her and knowing that no matter what I tried, Amber didn’t want to be my girlfriend. It wasn’t like hockey tryouts where a team would pass on me because my skating needed work. Skating I could work on, Killarney Secondary was kind of connected to Killarney Ice Rink, but she never told me specifically why she didn’t want to be my girlfriend. I try to be a nice person and I try in school but Amber still showed no interest. We had sex several times after that first time and every time it was amazing and only seemed to make my thirst for Amber worst.
I sigh as I walk out of the Giants’ dressing room. In the waiting area are most of the players’ girlfriends, I guess they’re pretty in a common, attainable way. It basically looks like as assembly of the most popular girls from every high school in Vancouver. Amber stands out by a mile. She isn’t wearing the unofficial girlfriend uniform: a Juicy Couture hoodie with pale blue True Religion jeans. She also isn’t clutching any sort of pink and red object. The other girlfriends all have some sort of stuffed animal or bouquet of flowers. I suddenly wish I did have something to give Amber, I know her favorite flowers are the pink ones with the pointy petals. Maybe I should’ve went to the florist and pick her up some of those, either that or roses, Amber likes roses too. But fat chance I’ll find any on the eve of Valentine’s day.
She’s sitting on the couch eating a chocolate chunk cookie from Costco from the platter they set up after every game for the media and talking to Penelope, who has a white teddy bear the size of a small child on her lap.
“Um, hi Amber” I say trying to hide how nervous I am.
“Hi Milan, you ready to go?” she asks looking up at me with a smile.
“Yeah,” I reply and I watch as Amber says goodbye to Penelope before pulling on her knee-length black wool trench coat.
We walk our familiar route that winds around Hastings Park before heading back to the parking lot. I could ask her any moment right now and tomorrow she could be my girlfriend. It’s a little overwhelming to say the least. Amber veers off the pathway and onto the playground where she jumps onto a frost covered swing and pumping her legs back and forth. I take the one next to her and it doesn’t take long before I’ve caught up to her.
“Amber?” I ask, god she’s so … beautiful. The way the faint light from the moon makes her skin radiant and shows that angles of her face.
“Milan?” she asks looking over at me and flailing her legs around to stop the motion of the swing.
“Amber, I want you to be my girl…I mean do you want to be my girlfriend?” great now I sound arrogant, like any girl in the province would want to be my girlfriend so why don’t you?
Amber gives me a small smile “I was wondering how long it was going to be until you asked me that again but why do you want me to be your girlfriend?”
“How long do you have?” I joke and Amber gives me a chuckle. I close my eyes for a moment and remember all of the times with Amber when I’ve wondered why we aren’t officially. “I really like you Amber. You’re smart, you’re sweet, you’re genuine, you’re talented, and you’re over looked all too often. But I see all of these things in you and more. You make me want to better myself because I see how much effort you put in to what you love.”
Amber’s quiet after my ramble. It doesn’t take long for the silence to turn awkward and I wonder if I shouldn’t have put my heart out there like that. “Milan…that was so…real, so raw” she says and she leans in really close. So close and I’m embarrassed by how sweaty my palms are. She kisses me with the same raw emotion while wrapping her arms around my neck and pulling me closer.
______
Now that she’s here in person I could ramble on for hours about Amber. “Why do you like her?”. Seeing Amber wander around my house with a tape measure in one hand and jolting down measurements with the other. All I have to do is think of that moment on the swings and the kiss on the swings afterwards. The more things change the more they stay the same. And it’s true; she’s still willing to put the effort and passion into what she loves.