Harbour Lights and Lonely Nights

The red jersey fit her perfectly, dark tendrils of her hair falling on it from her bun. Perched on her ample chest was the rival logo of the Canadiens, on her back the number 13 under the name Cammalleri. 74 digits off and every letter after the C another smack to the face. But man, did the blue stripe ever bring out her eyes. She had made it in time for the game. She was in her seat watching every second intently. Her eyes made clear her distaste for him as he played. When he scored she booed and when they scored she was ecstatic. It threw him completely off his game to see her so completely against him. She was always free to cheer on whichever team she pleased but for her to boo him? For her to look at him as if he were the enemy? And it wasn’t all in fun. No, her eyes displayed sincere animosity towards the star forward. He only scored one goal, and it was his team’s only goal. The Canadiens beat them 5-1 on the new ice. She jumped amid the sombre Pens fans. Her red jersey stuck out in the sea of black and gold. Then, she laughed at him triumphantly as he skated off the ice. His best friend had turned against him. His team had lost.

He was walking out of the locker room but he didn’t remember changing. The hallway felt slightly longer than usual. He heard voices. First a familiar male voice. Price? What was the habs goalie doing down here? Then the second voice. Female. Emily. He turned a corner to see them talking. Both leaning against the white brick. The goalie’s 6’4 frame towering over her 5’7. The goalie was smirking. Sidney couldn’t see Emily’s face but he could see her back: Cammalleri, 13. He called out to her but there was no response. The edges of his vision began to blur. She was laughing at Price’s joke. They were flirting. Flirting!

Her small hand reached out to touch his chest. Sidney tried to shake his head to stop it from spinning. Colour started growing duller. Emily stepped closer to Price. No. She wouldn’t. Sidney called out to her again, this time angrily. She didn’t so much as flinch at the sound. He stepped forward but could barely keep his balance. The two faces in front of him grew closer and he grew more hopeless. No! He knew what was coming. There was no stopping it. Two sets of eyes closed, lips ready for contact.

The sound of his alarm jolted Sidney out of the terrible scenario playing out in his head. The worry took a moment to subside as he became aware it was not real. It never happened. Emily was going to be back earlier than expected, on the 9th instead of a month away but that day had not come yet. He turned to his phone. It was the 7th. It was the first game of the regular season. They were playing their rival the Fylers. Since the morning after his night with Sarah he had only spoken to Emily once. It was hard but at least she had mentioned that her plans were coming in order faster than expected and she would probably be back in Pittsburgh for the 9th, even if she might not be able to make it in time for the game that day. He’d reserve a seat for her anyways and Mischa if she wanted to come.

His thoughts went back to the dream and what it might mean. Perhaps somewhere he had a fear of Emily finding someone else. Maybe it was a fear that stemmed from his own escapades in the bedroom. The blond girl from the bar and her swampy green eyes. He hadn’t done anything wrong. But if it wasn’t wrong for him to do it then it wasn’t wrong for her. So was she in Cole Harbour going down the same path?

Another fear nagged at him. She was coming back on the day the Penguins played the Canadiens. Somewhere hidden, he thought it likely she would be cheering on her favourite team even though her best friend was on the ice. He wondered if she liked watching the Habs play hockey more than she liked watching him. When it came to the two teams playing against each other would he become the enemy? Would she be rooting for him to fail? The thought was silly. She may cheer on the Habs but she was still his friend.
---

Across town everything in the room felt slightly off. From beneath a pile of tangled sheets Max rose with last nights clothes twisted against his body. The day was more than half gone but that didn’t register for a while. He could remember going to the bar and drinking a little too much. He could remember calling people on his phone in his drunken state. Trying a handful of numbers and not getting a response, then finally a drunk dial that achieved an answer.

—hello?
—Emily!!!
—Max?
The French man slouched over the bar, knocking his empty glass to the side. There had been no girls to catch his eye that night so he drank with a fellow patron. Then the stranger had peeled away with a woman and Max found himself bored, drunk, and alone at the bar. An unpleasant combination.

He remembered bits of the conversation. He told Emily stories of things he had done that he wasn’t exactly proud of. She had listened. Patiently from a different country she took the long distance charges to listen to him go on about himself. She didn’t seem annoyed. She kept his mind occupied so he wasn’t ordering more drinks. They shared stories and he laughed. It didn’t take her long to both cheer him up and get him motivated to go home. He had a big game today.

His head spun and his stomach felt ill at ease but it was a feeling he had learned to conquer. It wouldn’t impede his ability to function for the day. After a shower and a change of clothes he started feeling better. Enough to call Emily and apologize. She answered on the second ring.

“Salut Jambes.” He greeted her before she spoke.
“Hey Max. How are you feeling?”
“Not the greatest if I’m being honest. I wanted to thank you for putting up with me last night.”
He could hear the smile in her voice, “It’s fine. You were entertaining, just don’t make a habit of it.”
Max smiled as he grabbed an apple from his kitchen counter, “I won’t.”
The conversation paused as Max bit into the fruit. In Nova Scotia Emily sat on her couch in an empty house. The book she had been reading lay with the pages down on her stomach. There were only a few things she hadn’t packed yet and the book was one of them. Since she had been back in North America there hadn’t been much time for her to read but here in Cole Harbour, with most of her arrangements made, she was finding the time to relax. She knew it wouldn’t last long because in a few days she would be in Pittsburgh.
“Don’t forget to watch our game tonight. This one counts.”
“Only if you don’t forget to win for me.”
Max took another bite from the smooth shiny skin of the apple and chewed. His smile, ever present when talking to the girl, still shone through the coarse action of chewing. “Then when you come back you ‘ave to owe me a drink.”
Emily paused for a moment as if thinking. Her eyes wandered up to the ceiling but she wasn’t really looking at it. “I think that’s fair. First win of the regular season for a drink? You just have to be careful. Those Flyers can be tricky. Briere is quite the scorer.”
“Haha. No contest.”
It was strange how easily their friendship clicked. Max Talbot was very good at getting girls to click with him, he was charming, he was an athlete, and he was French. But he didn’t often find himself clicking with them. Girls tended to come and go. Things of pleasure. Means to an end. But with the Nova Scotia girl he felt a legitimate friendship blossoming despite the age gap.
“You better be right.”
“Are you going to be back for our second game?”
“Probably. I’m trying to get an early flight.”
“Does Sid know this?” He didn't know why he was asking. Just making conversation. He knew they were best friends and that obviously something had happened or would happen between them. He almost felt bad communicating with the girl his captain missed so much but they were only talking harmlessly and he enjoyed her friendship.
“Yeah but I don’t want him to get his hopes up so I told him I probably won’t make it. Which is the truth.”
Max finished off his apple and tossed the core in the garbage and grabbed a bottle of water. He had slept in so late that it was already time for him to start heading to the arena. Talking to Emily had helped ease his head and made him feel better about the impending game.
“Well I hope you can make it, mais hélas, ma chère, I must go.”
“Okay. Good luck tonight.”
“I won’t need it.”
“Well good luck anyways.”
“Bye Amelie.”
He heard her laugh on the other end. “I’m not French Max.”
“Bye Emily”
“Bye Maxime.”

---

Unfortunately that night Emily watched on TV as the Penguins lost to the Flyers. She could see the disappointment on each Penguins face as the game ended. Sidney didn’t look happy. She knew he would be really hard on himself for losing the first game of the regular season. It made her want to get to him faster. To be there at his next game. Something was bothering him. She could tell through the TV. She wondered if she should call him but she knew he probably wasn’t in the mood for talking. If she had been in Pittsburgh she would have cheered him up with a distraction. She would have made him go out for drinks with her or spent the night alone with him just hanging out. But she wasn’t in Pittsburgh, she was still in Cole Harbour. Even from the distance she felt the crush of the loss. It felt like she had been on that ice with him. It even hurt watching Max, her new friend, walking off the ice with hunched shoulders. In the short time she had had them in her life she felt attached to the success and failures of the team. Her love for Sidney and her friendship with Max were a direct line to the pains of loss and elations of wins. Would it be like this in Pittsburgh? Did life in that city mean she would constantly be up and down with the team? Or would it hurt less to be less helpless? Perhaps the loss wouldn’t bother her as much if she were there to be with Sidney through it. Or maybe she was bothered because Sidney was bothered. He had been since the moment the game started and she wanted to get to the bottom of it. He was having an off game that much was obvious. Had he forgotten to make his sandwich? Taped his stick wrong?

Her phone vibrated on the table in front of her.

From: Superstar25
I think losing means I’m even more entitled to a drink so I think you still owe me when you get here.

The text made Emily laugh but it bothered her at the same time. It bothered her that Max had contacted her but she heard nothing from Sidney. Since she had left Pittsburgh he had seemed pretty distant. She had to hope he wouldn’t be like that when she went back and that they hadn’t permanently lost the ability to effectively communicate.