Young & Wild & Free

Blake and Taylor always text one another when he was on a road trip or vice versa. It was weird to go even a few hours without hearing from his girlfriend, and now, it was getting weird. Taylor had been out of town for three days and he had only heard from her once since they flew into Phoenix.

He knew she was busy with hockey now that they were getting further and further and into their seasons but he couldn’t help but feel that something was going on. Getting into Edmonton that morning, he stopped back at his apartment, pulling on his Edmonton Crunch t-shirt and eating a quick lunch before taking off for Blake’s arena where they had an early game that afternoon against Nunavut.

“Are you sure she isn’t just breaking up with you?” Jordan teased, earning a sharp look from his roommate. “I’ll go with you.” He shrugged, “nothing better to do and I want a pretzel.” He added. The two headed down to the garage and it wasn’t another twenty minutes before they were walking into the Young Arena.

“Fuck yeah.” Jordan whispered, heading right to the concession stand and ordering two pretzels with cheese and a box of popcorn with Taylor. Taylor held up his side of their deal by buying two Cokes. Picking up a game program for that night, they made their way to their usual seats opposite the bench and up from the glass twelve rows at center ice.

“Where’s Blake?” Jordan asked as he searched the bench looking for that familiar number 88. Taylor was asking himself the same thing, and as the lights lowered for the starters, he turned his head to the scoreboard. The announcer started with the scratches for that night – and Blake was out with a “lower body injury.” He now knew what it was like to need to know what was actually wrong with a player instead of the vague description they offered.

“I don’t know.” Taylor mumbled, looking up to the suite over the home bench where he spotted her long, dark hair braided over one shoulder as she sat in a white oxford shirt and black slacks, sipping a blue Powerade.

To: Bee
lower body injury?

He sent the text and waited, glancing up to the box where he could see her look at her phone for a moment, then set it in the cup holder.

“Rough.” Jordan said quietly. “What did you do?” Taylor wasn’t sure what to do – should he call her? Text her again and tell her that he was at the game and he could see her blowing him off?

“I have no idea.” He shrugged, setting his phone in the cup holder next to him.

“If she was really injured wouldn’t you know?” Jordan asked, pressing the situation when all Taylor wanted to do was get up to that box and talk to her face to face. He grabbed his phone again and sent another text.

To: Bee
sucks that I came to watch you sit in the suite.

As soon as that sent, his eyes darted upwards across the ice. Blake picked up the phone again, read the text and capped her Powerade. She leaned over the front of the barrier and looked around the stands, finally spotting the two in their black pea coats and Jordan with his red beanie. Taylor waved discreetly, his illuminated phone in his hand as he gave her a soft smile.

To: Hall
I’ll be down after the first.

To: Bee
You okay?

To: Hall
Fine.

To: Bee
are you mad at me?

To: Hall
I’m not mad.

“Oof.” Eberle shook his head.

“What?” Taylor asked, turning to look at his teammate as they leaned over their knees, eating their pretzels.

“She’s ‘not mad’.” He gave Taylor a look.

“Yeah, isn’t that a good thing?” Taylor said in an obvious tone.

“No, no, my friend. When a girl says she’s ‘not mad’, that’s code for ‘have fun beatin’ it like it owes you money.” He explained, making Taylor frown softly. “Something is definitely up if she’s ‘not mad’.

“Fuck.” Taylor whispered to himself, backtracking and trying to think of anything he could have done to make Blake upset but nothing came to mind.

The first period went by quickly and Blake pulled an Edmonton Crunch hat down on top of her hair as she made her way from the upstairs team suite to the lower level. It didn’t take long to find Taylor in the concourse and even though she was filled with mixed emotions, she walked straight into his arms, her head tucking under his chin as he hugged her tightly.

“Hey, hey. What’s the matter?” He asked softly, kissing the top of her head. She held him tightly for a few more moments.

“Nothing, I just missed you.” She said quietly, looking up to him and leaning forward on her tiptoes to kiss his lips gently.

“I missed you, too.” He replied, tugging the end of her braid painfully. “You okay? What’s this lower body stuff?” He asked, his blue-grey eyes filled with worry.

“Just… girl stuff.” She lied. “Should be back in the lineup by the next home game.” She shrugged, trying not to grin at the weird face Taylor made at the mention of “girl stuff.”

“Oh, okay. I thought it was serious for a second.” He shrugged, holding her hands in his.

It is serious. Blake thought to herself, but knew that she couldn’t tell Taylor – especially not at the arena.

“Keep me company?” She asked, fluttering her eyelashes at him as she tugged his hands towards her.

“Let me get Ebs.” He insisted. “I can’t leave him alone anywhere or he’ll gorge on pretzels and ChocoTacos.” He kissed her once more.

When Taylor turned to collect his teammate from the stands, Blake pressed her forehead to the pillar in the concourse, a hand on her lower stomach. How was she supposed to act around Taylor now? Was she ever going to tell him?

•••

One week earlier.

Blake sat, turning her phone over back and forth in her hands. She had destroyed all evidence of her pregnancy test and knew that Phoebe would never notice. Phoebe was about to pop literally any moment and wouldn’t notice something so trivial.

Hitting the ‘call’ button, she put her phone up to her ear.

“Hello?” She heard the feminine voice on the other line.

“Mom?” Blake pressed, leaning forward over her knees.

“Blake?” The voice resounded. “Is that you?” She asked.

“Yeah Mom it’s me.” Blake sighed, “do you have a moment to talk?”

“Blake, honey, your father and I are out to lunch right now, do you think we could talk later?” The voice asked, making Blake swallow back a lump of tear.

“It’s important Mom – I really need your help, I’m in way over my head and –”

“Blake? You’re breaking up. Honey we’ll talk later okay? Hope your little hockey team is doing well!”

“Mom? Mom?” Blake pressed the phone closer to her ear. Dropping her phone onto her bed, she wiped away the few errant tears that had escaped. So much for her third conversation with her mother since she moved to Canada six months earlier.

It was the last straw for Blake. She stood, gathering her wallet and purse and bounded up the stairs, slipping her feet into her Toms as she grabbed the car keys off the kitchen island.

“Pheeb, is it okay if I take the car? I’m just gonna run to Target and the mall.” She said, peeking her head into the family room where Phoebe was relaxing and watching HGTV.

“Sure sweetheart, be home before dinner.” Phoebe smiled, making Blake smile in return. “Be safe, okay?”

“Kay.” She nodded, heading to the garage and hopping into the driver seat of the Navigator. She had googled the place beforehand, not wanting to get lost, she sloppily wrote down the address and plugged into her phone. She couldn’t wait to delete the destination from her map.

It was a quick drive – less than twenty minutes until she pulled up to the nondescript building. Opting to park a block away and walk, she wrapped her coat tighter around herself against the harsh December wind.

Stepping into the lobby, she reached for a clipboard pushed towards her by a young woman at the front desk who was balancing two ringing phones.

All Blake could really think of was how badly she wanted to go home – back to Michigan, crawl in her bed there, and sleep for days. She didn’t want to talk to anyone, she didn’t want to do anything, and she certainly didn’t want to see anyone.

She was seventeen, he’d understand – he’d have to.

Reason for visit. Her eyes scanned over the options wearily.

Exam. Consultation. Procedure.

Returning the clipboard, it was an excruciating fifteen minutes before her name was called. She took in a shaky breath, sent a quick prayer to God and followed the nurse back deeper within the building.

It seemed too fast – she was only there for fifteen minutes? Climbing back into the car, her hands shook as she turned the key over, bringing the engine to life. It was anti-climactic, really. She went straight home, wanting to slip into a pair of sweatpants and curl up into bed. Pulling into the garage, she stepped down from the garage, she noticed that Shawn was home, making her pulse beat in her neck. They’d know – the second she stepped foot in that room, they’d know what she did.

Opening the door, the entire family was standing in the kitchen, making pizza on the countertop, they all turned and smiled upon seeing Blake. Seeing them there, looking like the picture perfect family, Blake’s haywire emotions sent her right into hysterics. A split second later, she was engulfed in Shawn’s arms, sobbing into his shirt as he rubbed her back, Phoebe standing by closely.

“Hey, what’s the matter?” Shawn asked, pressing a kiss to the top of her head gently. “Are you okay? Was it Taylor?” He almost sounded hopeful at that last part. She fought the urge to smile. After a few more moments of hard, ugly crying, she pulled away and he was quick to wipe the tears on her cheeks – something her parents never did for her.

“I just – I missed you, that’s all.” She lied. Phoebe’s eyebrows shot straight up into her hairline. Blake was never the type to show her emotions and she just about exploded into a bag of tears because she missed Shawn? “I just don’t want to be alone right now.” She whispered, her eyes screwed shut as she pressed her face into Shawn’s shoulder. “Maybe I’m homesick.” She added.

“Come on, sweetheart. Go change into some comfy clothes, we have a pizza crust for you to make and we’ll puppy pile on the couch to watch a movie.” Phoebe stroked Blake’s hair gently. Blake nodded, Shawn giving her one last squeeze and letting her go before she could head downstairs.

“What was that?” Shawn asked with wide eyes as he turned to his wife – his two sons still playing with their pizza creations on the counter.

“I have no idea.” Phoebe shrugged. “Let me just check on something.” She waddled across the kitchen and downstairs. Knocking on Blake’s door, she was soon let in. Blake stood in her black sweatpants and orange sports bra, pulling a long-sleeved tee over her head. “No bags back from the mall or Target?” She inquired, sitting on Blake’s made bed and watching as the girl pulled her hairbrush from her nightstand and piled her hair on top of her head.

“Nothing I wanted.” She whispered gently.

“Blake – I want you to know you can talk to me about anything.” She said, hoisting herself up from the bed slowly. “Shawn and I would do anything for you.” She added.

Blake smiled sadly at her billet mother before hugging her as well, but the shock of feeling her huge, pregnant belly between them made her jump away. Phoebe eyed her with curiosity.

“Thought I felt a kick.” Blake laughed nervously. Phoebe nodded but said nothing.

“Do you want to invite Taylor over?” She asked, reaching out to smooth away one of Blake’s last tears.

“No.” She shook her head. “Just us.” She insisted.

“Sure baby girl, just us.” Phoebe smiled.