if you dance, I dance. if you don't I dance anyway

From: griffincaleb@gmail.com 

To: Skylarlodge@gmail.com 

Subject: Therapy

I very much agree with the doctor, you need to speak to your parents, they must have a good reason for not telling you the truth.

*****"*

The week has been beyond awful,

First Mrs Smith asks for a detailed business plan for selling the cake pops, only for her to decline every plan I bring her.

Secondly, Mrs Lydia, the professor of my additional class makes it absolutely clear that she has no space or time for a new student during the middle of the semester and goes ahead to schedule two sets of exams for Monday morning, an hour theory and two hours practicals.

Thirdly, the coach canceled the trial game at the last minute after I had already blown my chance to get prof Liam to catch me up on the class.

Fourthly, dad called and asked me to a family dinner this Sunday, saying he has had enough of my tantrum.

So yeah, the week has been shitty, but hopefully today will be better. Coach called and said she can watch me play today before the hockey game started.

"I have a meeting with the dean, I will meet you at the game?" Amelia has on a black dress paired with white wedges and a black bow on her hair.

Her clothes have been pretty depressing since the giraffe thing.

"Yeah, sure see you then," we both leave the house together and go in separate directions.

*****

"We don't have much time, so I just want to see you on the ice," coach says.

Gearing up quickly, I step into the ice. The arena was still empty save for the three of us, the coach, the goalie and I.

"Just try to score," the coach ordered.

The whole week I have been spending every free minute practicing for the few minutes that I have to dazzle the coach.

In the next five minutes I am able to make three goals, the goalie isn't that good at her job.

"I have seen enough," the coach yells, grabbing our attention, and we skate over to her.

"What we have established in the last five minutes is that we are definitely getting screwed this season. Practice is every evening from 5-7pm. Don't be late,"the coach leaves.

"Well how believing of her," I mutter.

"Ooh I know, she is an even worse pessimistic as a mother," the goalie adds.

"How would you- wait, she is your mother?" I was a bit shocked.

"Yep. Am Liz, short for Elizabeth, you?"

"Skylar,"

"Welcome to the team Skylar, even though we are barely that any more,"

We head for the locker room.

"What do you mean?"

"Since the team heard that our funding is getting cut if we don't do well this season, they barely care,"

"Shouldn't they care more to keep the game alive?"

"Beats me,"

I take a quick shower so I can be able to head to the admissions office and drop my business plan and be back before the game starts.

"I think I have seen you around here practicing," she says from her locker as she gets dressed.

"Yes, wanted to be better to get into the team,"

"Well, you shouldn't have,even a person with no hockey skills can join," she chuckles.

"That's not a nice thing to say about the team," I reprimanded her.

"Then you haven't met the team's captain," she adds another self-deprecating laugh.

"And what about you? You also don't care about the game?"

"Hell no, I love the game. It's what brought my mom and I together, but you can only push uninterested people for so long,"

"Well you don't have to do it alone anymore, I am here," I give her a smile.

"Are you watching the game?"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world, but I need to first drop by the admissions building,"

"Great will save you a spot,"

Thanks Liz," I leave the locker room dressed in my usual, black sweat pants and my brother's hoodie with 'you can't do it lying down' written on the front.

*******

The game is almost halfway through but both teams are still at zero. I am seated a few rows from the plexiglass, with a good view of the center ice considering the packed arena.

Liz is explaining to Amelia how hockey works and I still can't believe that she has never been to one of the games before even though she dated a hockey player.

I keep checking my phone to see if I got an email from Mrs.Smith when I notice shit going down on the ice.

Like, seriously going down right in front of me between Caleb and the raptors guy. I'm equal parts elated and horrified when the raptors guy slams another into the plexiglass barricade. He smashes into it headfirst, his helmet and cage saving his face.

Dark obsidian eyes—the color of abyss, a cold, hollow dark abyss— meet mine. It's only for a second and then he's gone again. 

He and the raptors guy struggle to pull off their gloves while holding each other's jersey. Helmets hit the ice.

The excitement of the crowd is infectious. Everyone else is screaming, and I'm tempted to join in, but am hit by a sense of deja vu, and it seems wrong to enjoy it, so I keep my lips sealed. This used to be Erik's and I normal Friday night at our local arena until the truth happened.

Caleb seems to be having an advantage. The name Young is written in big, black letters across his shoulders. He's number ten.His face is obscured by a flailing fist, but I admire his tenacity. He's giving as good as he's getting.

The refs get involved, breaking up the fight and inciting the crowd by calling penalties. Caleb looks pissed. Not mildly so, either; he's raging-like-a-lunatic pissed. He glides across the ice, hurtling himself into the time-out box. He throws his helmet across the small space only to pick it up and do it again. A ref cautions him, so he drops to the bench in a snit.

"What is wrong with him?" Amelia whispers to me over the crowd.

I shake my head having no idea.

Caleb is far from calm while the coach chews him out. His face is red and his lips mash into a thin line. Even sweaty and angry, he's rather attractive. I can see why the women around me have trouble keeping their eyes from him.

At the second set, Caleb is back in the ice and he together with Harry and Luca manage to score three goals winning the game and putting themselves on the race for this season's championship.

I am absolutely impressed at how Harry and Luca manage to play as a team despite how they can't be in the same room together.

"The team has a celebration party at a bar in town, wanna go?" Amelia asks as the arena clears.

"No, I can't, I have to practice a bit before I go prepare for my practicals, the kitchen will be full tomorrow," I shut down the idea of drinking. I have so much I need to do.

"I was to go. But I guess I can play abit with you before hitting the bar," Liz offers.

"Okay. Am gonna catch up with Mark," she left the arena together with the few people that were remaining.

We head down to the locker rooms or to collide with Caleb and Luca leaving.

Luca shots me a nod before leaving.

"Nice moves, young," Liz says walking away.

"Hey," he greets.

Even with a bruised eye and a busted lip he still looks great and smells even better, cleanish and a hint of sandalwood.

"Hi," I say back.

"You looked beautiful tonight," he starts rubbing his left forearm. Something I have noticed he does whenever he is nervous.

"You don't look too bad either," I laugh trying to ease the air.

He is quiet as he rocks on his heels.

"I got drafted by clefts for the season," a smile spreads on his face 

"Congratulations. You deserve it," I am happy for him.

"I also passed my makeup, thanks to you. I am so sorry for how I behaved. You were right, you didn't owe me nothing but you still helped despite me being an asshole. Can we go back to our previous arrangements?"

"I don't know,I am pretty occupied -" 

"We'll work with your schedule,"

"Okay then. Guess we are back on,"

"Thanks a lot," he pulls me on for a hug.

Oh! God! This is where I belong.

"I will see you tomorrow," he pulls away and heads for the door.

"Sure," my face looks no different to a Cherry.