Shut Your Eyes

Since it was on the way, I figured I’d swing by Max’s practice first and drop his phone off. I knew the way to the Consol Energy Center by heart, and arrived there only fifteen minutes after leaving the condo. As soon as I reached the door however, I realized that I didn’t remember the way down to the locker rooms. My steps slowed dramatically as I came to a stop between two pathways. There were double doors to the left, and some off to the right. I took my bottom lip in my mouth, a bad habit I’d had since childhood, and glanced nervously between the two. Just when I was about to give up and go to the store with Max’s phone in my purse, I heard a chuckle behind me.

“Need some help?”

A smile broke across my face as I turned and looked at Marc. He walked up to me and pulled me into a hug. At 6’2”, he easily dwarfed my 5’5” frame.

”Max didn’t tell me you were in town! What a sneaky bastard!”

I laughed. Marc’s mere presence was enough to brighten anyone’s day. “To be fair, I only arrived this morning. What’re you doing showing up late to practice?”

Max gave a proud grin. “I won a bet with Dan about who would win the shootout and I got a tardy pass. Are you here to watch us practice?” He asked excitedly, like a small child on Christmas.

“I’m only coming by to give Max his phone; he left it at the condo.”

“But you don’t know which way to go?” He asked with a grin.

“I’m afraid I’m a bit lost.” I admitted with a laugh. “I guess I didn’t remember this place as well as I thought.”

Marc straightened his imaginary tie and held out an elbow for me to loop my arm through. “Then allow me to escort you mon cher.”

I looked up at him with a bright grin on my face before linking my arm with his and allowing him to lead me through the doors to my left. We walked slowly through hallway after hallway, making sure to use Marc’s tardy pass to the greatest advantage, talking about anything and everything. I asked him about how Veronique was doing (wonderfully), and how much longer I’d have to wait for a wedding invitation (he laughed it off), while he asked me about work , and how long I was planning on staying in Pittsburgh. By the time we arrived in front of the locker room, Marc and I were completely caught up on each other’s lives. We even exchanged phone numbers so Vero, who apparently missed me to death, could get in touch with me.

“Here we are mon cher.”

I smiled up at him. “Thank you Marc, I don’t think I could have found my way without you.”

He scoffed playfully when I started to disentangle myself from his arm. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

The confused expression on my face must have spoken for itself, because he leaned his head near mine and tapped on his cheek with one slender finger. I rolled my eyes with a smile once I realized what he was asking for, but leaned up onto my tip toes and gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

“That’s all I wanted.” He said happily and unhooked his arm from mine. “Well I better go get ready. I can drop Max’s phone off in his locker for you if you’d like.”

I dug Max’s phone out of my purse and handed it over. “Thanks Marc, just make sure he doesn’t forget it again when he leaves to come home.”

He smiled and pulled me into another hug. I bit back a hiss when he squeezed my ribs. “Do you think you can remember the way back?” He asked with a playful edge to his voice.

I nodded into his shoulder. “Yeah, I should be fine. If you hear someone crying in the hallways after practice though, please come find me.”

“Will do. A bientôt, mon cher.”

“Au revoir Marc.”

He slid into the locker room with a smile, and I turned on my heel to find the way out. Now that I had been down here, it was almost like I had never left. I ran my fingers against the cool, familiar brick as I walked, remembering all the times I would come down after a game to congratulate (or console, depending on the night) Max or to fetch something out of his bag for him while he practiced.

While I was in college, Max and I had a routine. He always had a practice on Friday, and I always had a morning class, and then the rest of the day was free. I would leave school, drive straight to the Consol, and go sit in the stands while the penguins practiced. Sometimes I worked on homework, other times I read or ran errands for Dan, but once practice was over I would meet Max in the hallway outside the locker room and we would go to lunch.

Those lunches lasted for two years. Then I met him. Gavin Mitchell was heartbreak waiting to happen. He was tall, with broad shoulders and thick blonde hair. He had striking green eyes that sparkled when he laughed. He was in my English class, and always sat in the same seat. Every girl that sat within a thirty foot radius of him was a goner, including me. I probably should have known better, growing up with three older brothers and their friends usually meant I was harder to charm and impress. Not with Gavin. Every so often in class he would turn and catch my eye, sending a heart-stopping smile and a small wave my way. He started catching up to me after class, asking my opinion on the lecture or commiserating with me on a particularly hard test. Then one day he asked me to get some coffee with him. Naturally, I agreed; probably a little too eagerly, but I was young and stupid.

The coffee date came and went, followed by many more dates to the movies or late night drives outside the city limits. With each adventure I grew more and more attached to Gavin. He was unlike any boy I’d ever met. All of the boys in LeMoyne were rough, with numerous hockey injuries and battle scars under their belts. Gavin was an intellectual. He preferred art and literature instead of the sport he considered “barbaric.” My brother had nearly choked on his beer when I’d relayed that little comment to him. After coughing and sputtering for a second, Max rolled his eyes, called him a douchelord, and promptly advised me to “dump his preppy ass.” Needless to say, Max never liked him from the start. He was always going on and on about it, usually ending the conversation with a shake of the head and a vague, “I just have a bad feeling about him.” But I was stuck in the love bubble; drunk on his emerald eyes and his large vocabulary.

All it took was one night for me to realize my mistake. It was Halloween, and we were on our way back from a party. Alcohol had been in large supply and at the end of the night, Gavin was completely drunk. Tripping over his own feet, he led me out to his car. Suddenly all the warnings of my mother and that one video in Drivers ED came to the forefront of my mind. I lightly suggested that he’d had too much to drink. He laughed it off. I offered to drive home. He told me shut up and attempted to unlock the car with tipsy hands. I made the mistake of reaching out and taking the keys from his hands. I heard it before I felt it. A swift whoosh of air and a deafening crack. My mind went blank. The keys fell to the ground in a heap. Instinctively, my hand flew to my face, almost as if I were making sure it really happened. Blood rushed to the surface, making my skin red and hot. My cheek stung and tears rushed to my eyes.

“Get in.” Gavin growled. He’d managed to unlock the doors. I walked to the passenger side of the car in a daze. The entire ride home was spent in silence. My eyes searched the dark world beyond the car window, hoping to find asylum. Silently, tears streamed down my face. A foreign feeling was working its way deep into my chest: betrayal. Gavin dropped me in front of my apartment building without a word. I’d heard my girlfriends joke about the “walk of shame” the morning after a party, but this was different. This shame couldn’t be identified by last night’s clothes and sex hair. It manifested itself in the shape of a class ring, indented into the side of my face. It seeped out of every pore, putrefying the very clothes that hung on my frame. It was two o’clock, Friday morning by the time I got back to the apartment.

I didn’t go to lunch that day.