Finding Home

After a rather uneventful weekend, I could not wait for Lindsay’s next practice; I was more than happy to see Lisanne at practice Monday night. I watched Linds skate onto the ice. Kelsey was already in the net warming up so I watched Lindsay skate around the rink a few times while I waited for Lisanne to show up. But I didn’t see Lisanne anywhere as I made my way up the bleachers to “our” spot once practice began. I dropped Linds’ bag on the ground next to me and waited, resting my chin in my hands, elbows on my knees. I was watching the girls practice when I heard someone call my name.

“Tassiana?”

I turned to my right. Standing on the steps was the most attractive guy I had ever seen.

“Brian?” This mystery man had the same bright blue eyes and full, strong brows as Lisanne and Kelsey. Except he wasn’t a man; nor was he a boy. He looked about twenty; whatever you would consider someone that age.

“Yeah! How’d you guess?”

Ummm…. “Uh – ” I didn’t know how to respond without sounding creepy.

“Mind if I sit with you?”

“Of course!” I moved over a bit even though there was already plenty of room for him to sit. “You look exactly like your sister.”

He laughed, sitting down next to me. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

I didn’t know how to respond to that. Yes, both you and your sister are incredibly beautiful human beings. So instead I blurted out, “Is your mom here?” Smooth Tassiana, real smooth.

“Nah, I offered to bring Kelsey tonight.” He took a swig of Gatorade.

“I guess you won’t have much time after today. Is tomorrow the first day of practice?”

“No, today was our first day.”

Wasn’t he exhausted?

“I couldn’t miss Kelsey’s practice.” It was if he read my mind. “My mom tells me all the time about how well she’s been doing; but there’s, like, no time when I can see her play, you know?”

I nodded even though I didn’t really know.

“It’s nice to watch someone else play for once,” he said with a chuckle.

“Oh I bet it is!”

Brian smiled at me. “So you’re from Boston? From what I’ve heard.”

“Yes! That’s my sister down there, Lindsay, playing right wing.”

“Oh I know! My mom told me all about her. And you.”

I couldn’t help but blush. “Oh really? And what exactly did she tell you?” I asked in a moment of pure fearlessness.

“Well, for starters, she told me to look for the prettiest girl here, and that’s how I would find you.”

I threw my head back, laughing hard. “You people are crazy!”

“She said you stand out.”

“Why? Because I'm the only one here under thirty?”

This wasn't entirely true. I had seen another girl my age at practice twice before for a fleeting moment, but each time I was almost certain she gave me a nasty look. I told myself that I was imagining her icy glare, since I had never even been within twenty feet of her, so what possible reason could she have for disliking me? Not to be egotistical, but it was damn near impossible for her to not like me. At least not yet.

“No, because you're hot,” he said bluntly.

I was stunned. Me, hot? We must have had much different definitions of the word hot. He was hot. If my friends were with me, they would have been fighting each other to talk to him. Me? I was....different. First of all, I wasn't exactly sure what color my hair was. It was as if my hair couldn't decide which color it wanted, so it just chose to be a mix of red, brown, and gold. I blamed my hairs’ bipolar-ness of the fact that my mom was Israeli and my father was Russian and French. I guess that what happens when you're an exotic mix like me. But I wouldn't call my look exotic. No, not like Adriana Lima or Kim Kardashian.

“Jesus….you Canadians really know how to give a compliment.”

“No, we’re just honest.”

All bravery vanished; I could no longer flirt fearlessly with Brian. I felt suddenly felt mousy and uncomfortable in my skin. I wished I was as flirtatious as Sophie. She would know exactly how to respond in this kind of situation.

“So…tell me about this practice you’re going through,” I asked, praying to end that part of our conversation.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

For the next week, Brian attended every practice instead of Lisanne. Which, honestly, were only Sunday, Monday, Wednesday, and Friday night. But they were an hour and a half, so that gave us plenty of time to talk. At first I asked him about practicing with the other prospects and about hockey in general, but I soon found that he preferred to talk about anything besides hockey when off the ice. I had successfully avoided the appearance conversation. Looks didn’t come up again in conversation thankfully, or else I would have melted right there and then.

“Please tell me you'd choose ice cream over froyo,” he asked me one night. We had already covered everything from our favorite films to the first time we had been on a plane, so it wasn't a strange question.

“God yes!” I replied. “Froyo is good and all, but I'd much rather get a milkshake any day.”

“Want to get one when they're finished?”

“Sure, I'd love to! You can choose the place, since I obviously know where the best spot in town is to get ice cream!” I joked.

He laughed along with me and placed his hand on my knee. We were seated on the benches, high above everyone else with a great view of the ice. I really liked him. I liked him a lot. But not in this way. Or at least not in the way that meant allowing him to put his hand on my knee and eager to get ice cream afterwards. I like his friendship; scratch that, I loved his friendship. But my feelings ended there: at friends. I didn't feel anything more for him and I really hoped he didn't want anything for than a friendship from me. I wasn't one of those girls who hooked up with a guy for a night and never talked again. I had seen my friends do so at school dances when we were younger, and I never understood how they could do that. Didn't they feel....I don't know, weird doing so? How could they kiss someone they didn't know or have feelings for? It always baffled me.

I gently pushed his hand off of my knee. I prayed he wasn’t getting that impression from me. I had gone to plenty of Providence Bruins practices and games when I lived in Boston and had seen my fair share of puck bunnies. Did Brian get that same impression from me? Was I too flirtatious with him these past few days? Did I seem thirsty? Did he think I was hoping to hook up with him? Just because I had literally spilled my heart to him and told him my little secrets?

I was lonely and he was here and he was listening. And he and I were becoming fast friends. But I didn’t want to be that kind of friend to him.

I was internally freaking out. Why had he put his hand on my knee!?

“Tessie?”

I came back to reality. “I’m sorry, what did you say?” Obviously I had just missed whatever he had been saying.

“I was wondering if you wanted to carpool downtown after practice or what?”

“Oh.” I thought for a minute. “I’ll have to stop home no matter what: Lindsay will either want to me to drop her off or, if she wants to come too, shower. I can just text you when I get downtown and park.”

“Sounds good!” He had a broad smile on his face. “Let’s ask Kelsey if she wants to come too.”

I finally noticed that practice was over, so I grabbed my bag. Brian held out his hand to me, helping me down the bleachers.

“Aww, you’re such a gentleman!” I joked.

“I guess my mother raised me right!”

“I guess she did!”

We made our way down to the ice and waited for our sisters to get meet us. Kelsey, like usual, was the first one off.

“Hey Kelse, good practice!” Brian gave his sister a high-five. “We were thinking about getting ice cream, want to come?”

Kelsey looked from her brother to me, then back to him. “I’ll pass, but thanks for asking.” She shot me a look, as if she assumed this was a date.

I shot her a look back, hoping it translated to ‘I’m not interested in your brother.’

Unfortunately, I think that message was lost in translation.

Lindsay walked up behind us, bag and gear slung over her shoulder.

“Hey, Linds! Brian and I were thinking about getting dessert, want to come?”

Lindsay looked past me and at Kelsey, who shook her head slightly.

“I’m good; can you just drop me off first?”

“Yeah, no problem!” I took her skates from her.

“I’ll text you the address,” Brian called out to me.

“Don’t forget!” I shouted back over my shoulder as my sister and I made our way to my car.