Page 53 of Your Kiss Is On My List

“Wow, a banner day, I have two phone calls in a row instead of constant texts.” I pick up the phone and my nerves come to life in a conflict of excitement and dread. “Shoot. It’s Trey.” My friends look at me puzzled and curious and they don’t bother leaving me alone, though I turn away from them to take the call.

“How are you? Any word on your project? Dools said the turn-around would be quick.”

“No, I haven’t heard.”

“No news is good news,” he says “You’ll make it.”

“How about you? You ready for your big weekend?”

“As I’ll ever be. I have plenty of energy for sure.” He teases and I laugh. “I can’t wait to see you. It’s like torture—”

“Stay focused on hockey—just a little while longer,” I say. “I want you to win so much, to see you holding up the trophy.” He laughs.

“It’s not like the Stanley Cup or anything. That’s a whole ‘nother level of dreaming.”

“Yeah. Kind of like me getting an Emmy or a Pulitzer.”

“I predict you’ll win both.” I feel the support, the positive vibes and enthusiasm right through the airwaves and a searing longing cuts through me.

“I miss you, Trey.” He sighs.

“A few more days and you’ll have more of me than you can handle.” I laugh and we end the call, my nerves jumping around in all directions, not knowing where to go or what to feel. Should I be happy that I’m a finalist, that Trey is playing in the finals, that I’ll be seeing him next week and spending time with him? Of course. Frack yes.

But that corner of doubt brows dark in my heart as I contemplate the prospect of missing the biggest game of his life so I can have my night. And the reality of him not being there for my award night settles like a heavy blanket, dampening all the happy flames down to mild embers.

No way am I going to tell him about making the finals now because the award night is the same night as the final four championship game and he’s going to be there. I don’t want to distract him. I’ll let Dooley know to keep it from him and he’ll go with me to New York and my dad will be there. Maybe I can even convince mom to go. But Lou and the Eagletons will be going to Minnesota. That’s the way it has to be.

They’re his family, not mine and in the end, they’re loyal to him, not me. I shiver and a ball of bile rises up, knotting in my throat and I fight to keep from throwing up.

Chapter 20

TREY

The crushing blow of the loss in the semi-finals weighs on the entire team and after the game, but the crush seems paltry when I find out Dani’s not here. She texts me and as I read the words, leaning against the locker in the dead silent locker room filled with smelly sorry teammates, I smile.

Because she’s in the fucking finals for her competition. I smile because her profile piece could win her ten fucking grand and the most prestigious bragging rights in her field at the college level. And she’s only a fucking freshman. Fucking A.

“What the hell’s with you?” Nate says, sitting next to me on the long bench, half dressed, taking his time. We’re all taking our time because we have nowhere to go. Except now I do have somewhere to go. A fucking important date in New fucking York city. I jump to my feet and remove the last of my pads.

“I gotta get out of here,” I tell him. “Dani made the finals for the NFTP competition and the award ceremony is in New York City—tomorrow.”

“No fuck,” he manages a small quirk on one side of his mouth. “Good on her. I hope she wins. Be nice if someone we know wins something this weekend.”

The coach has already come and gone and given his sad speech. He acknowledged our efforts and didn’t blame anyone though Nate did a mia culpa and blamed it all on himself. He let in one easy goal, but we lost by two because we weren’t scoring tonight. I got one of our two goals, but I needed more. My legs were on fire, I was fast as ever, taking shot after shot. But the other team’s goalie was scorching hot and if there’s one thing that’s hard to beat is a hot goalie in the playoffs. Poor Nate wasn’t the hot one tonight.

“I need to catch a flight to New York City,” I say, thinking out loud. “I’ll need to grab an Uber to the airport and catch the first flight I can get.”

“Go for it, man.” He fist bumps me and a few of the guys look up when I slip on my shoes and grab my duffel. We’re dressed up in suits for the occasion and I’m thinking it’s the perfect attire for an awards night. I step up on the bench and all eyes in the locker room turn to me.

“I’ll see you all back at campus. Monday. We have a meeting. All of us players. We’re going to plan something for Coach Maroni because even though we didn’t win, we had a hell of a season and he’s had a helluva run all these years at SPU.

“I know SPU is probably planning something for him, but I think it would mean a lot to him if we did our own thing. Come on Monday with enthusiasm and no shame because we played our hearts out and we came close enough to keep the taste of that dream in our hearts for next year—wherever we are.

“Because there’ll always be dreams to follow and fights to fight. And the most important thing about them is who you travel the road with, the people you meet and bond with along the way, the experience of being here and living and giving it your all.”

“Fuck yeah,” Nate shouts with a fist bump and the guys rally for a last burst of energy, the bulk of their disappointment pushed aside, at least for now. As I step down from the bench, I say one more thing.

“I have somewhere else I need to be tonight.” I walk out of the locker room and stop along the way to find coach, waiting for him to finish up with a sportscaster. He sees me and nods.