“Dude. Just tell her I stole her keys.”
His eyebrows dipped down. “That’s a better idea. Anyways.” He held up a finger, making a clicking sound. “Have at it. This never happened.”
I shut the door.
I saw the look on Mara afterwards. Someone violated her safe place. I got it. I understood.
Garbage bags were pulled out of my backpack, and I got to work.
I hit the kitchen first.
The food her mom had brought was put in the garbage bags.
I found Mara’s real food, and put them back where she had them before. Her towels. Washcloths. They were taken and put away. I was guessing a little, but remembered which went to the bathroom, and the others were put in the hallway closet. When I opened that door, I saw I’d been right. There were two giant empty spaces on one of the shelves.
Dishes were put back.
Glasses.
Even the silverware was returned to the original drawer.
Mara might’ve had no idea that I remembered this shit since most of my time was entering, then exiting her bedroom, but I noticed things. Always had.
Her mom had gotten into her bedroom, with her nicer clothes moved to her closet and some of her mom’s clothes put in the drawer. That stuff was put in the garbage bag as well, and I dug in her closet, finding everything to get it back in the spot Mara had designated.
After that, I combed through the place.
The bathroom’s toilet paper was switched around. I corrected that.
She had put some of Mara’s toiletries under the sink, putting her own things in its place. That was all made right.
The living room. There were some blankets that Mara liked to grab for her lap. She usually kept them on the couch, so she could easily grab one without getting up, but her mom had stuffed them in the back of the closet. Those were put back.
After that, I studied the room, standing, feeling something else was off.
The air.
The place didn’t smell like Mara. It reeked of cheap perfume.
Windows were opened. I found a fan and had that going, helping to clear it all out. When that was done, I looked around for the usual spray that Mara liked and did a few sprays.
There. It looked like no one had been in here.
I grabbed my bags, hit the lock, and headed back out.
The rest of the week, I never heard from Mara. I half expected it.
Seeing her mom, hearing her mom, being in the same room as her, I could feel how toxic the lady was. Everything clicked. Mara hadn’t been Mara in that room. She was a shadow of herself, and I hated that.
Hated seeing that. Hated feeling that from her.
So, her ghosting me, not wanting to see the person who was a witness to that moment, made sense. She was feeling vulnerable and exposed, and I seriously did get that shit. Fuck. She had no idea how much I got it. That’s why I was brief the next morning, giving her space, not pushing anything. Normal people, that’s what they’d do. They’d want to know what happened, get all the emotional feelings out. Feel all close to each other and shit.
Her and me? No. We didn’t do that shit.
That’s the time when you close up and rally and pull away because even while you don’t want to do it, you have to so you feel safe again. You don’t feel safe being raw and exposed. Which goes against the grain, but again, I get it.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
I started to answer Barclay, but Atwater skated next to him and said the same thing. A goofy smile on his face. “Penny for your thoughts?”
“Penny for your thoughts?” That was Labrowski.
Keys was next. “Penny for your thoughts?”
“Penny for your mind?”
The third line was next.
Then the fourth.
They all repeated a variation of the same question, and I scowled, but I was also fighting back a grin. “You guys planned that like some TikTok video?”
They all started laughing.
Atwater shoved one of the third linemen. “Except for this dumbass. Mind? The phrase is thoughts.”
He scowled and ducked, skating backwards. “Don’t hit me again, dude.”
Atwater went right after him. “Oh! What are you going to do about it?”
They moved off, half wrestling and half pretending to have a brawl, but we’d just finished practice so no one cared.
Labrowski moved up in Atwater’s place. “Serious, man. You good? You’ve been spacing all week.”
“Can’t be about those pictures of you and Daniels up on the hockey blogs.” Barclay moved in. “That was a week ago.”
“That was a whole week ago?”
They were talking about me as if I wasn’t here. And because I was in a mood, I skated away.
“Cruz! Come on.”
I headed for the locker room and held up my stick to Barclay. “You guys seem to be having a better conversation about me so have at it. You all figure shit out. Let me know what you’ve decided.”
I stepped over, walking the rest of the way.
Some of the guys followed, their voices filling the locker room.
I went to my area, peeling off my uniform and pads before sitting down and bending over to start unlacing my skates. Labrowski sat next to me, doing the same. He glanced over a few times before he said, “Listen, I’m known for doing crazy shit, but when it comes to the games, I’m steady. You being melancholy this whole week is fucking the dynamic up. Guys notice. You’re not captain, but you set the tone for us, so whatever’s going on, get it out of your head. We’re playing Minnesota this weekend. They’re good. We need you at your best.”
“Dude. I’m aware. I’ve been quiet, that’s it. My head’s always on straight for the game.”
“I know, but…you have influence. Theirs might not be. Just be aware of that.”
He was right. I’d been noticing the looks from the guys, but me being quiet wasn’t all about Daniels. Wasn’t even a third about Daniels. Mom. Titi. Then Sabrina Burford coming up afterwards and mentioning Titi.
Then the whole storm with Mara’s mom.
That threw me way, way back, and I’d not been ready or wanting to go to memories of why I could identify Mara’s mom’s deal or the look in Mara’s eyes when she came out of the bathroom.
We were leaving for Minnesota in the morning, so I had one night.
I needed to hash some stuff out with Daniels, and her ghosting me was not going to continue. We were officially in the ‘between shit’ that she always said she didn’t want. We were there. I was making us go there.
I was finishing dressing when Barclay came over. “A bunch of us are going for some pizza. You in?”
I checked my phone. It wasn’t even eight yet. “Yeah. I can go for a couple slices.”
“Sweet!” He pounded me on the chest before grabbing his bag. “Can I ride with you?”
As soon as we entered Pete’s, the guys headed for the back room. It was mostly a bar, known for their pizza and a couple games in the back room, so it wasn’t uncommon for some kids to be playing back there if their family was here during normal ‘dinner’ hours. Labrowski and a few of the other guys were the only ones legal to drink, so they ordered a pitcher. We were in training, and we had a game tomorrow, so it would only be one pitcher. The guys had been here enough and the workers behind the bar were fan-guys. Because of that, it was the place we came whenever we wanted a beer and didn’t want to get any shit for it.