“Wow, you look like shit.” Trevor looks me up and down.
“Shut up.” I stand to walk past him to finish getting ready.
“We have to be out of here within 30 minutes. Will you be ready?”
“Yeah, yeah.” I shut the bedroom door and look in the mirror. Okay, Trevor was right. I do look like shit. My eyes are still puffy from crying every night. My hair isn’t fixed, and I’m still in my pajamas. We are heading to meet my dad at the Rangers-Penguins game in the city and if my dad sees me like this, he will flip out.
I walk into my bathroom and turn on my curling iron. Going back into my bedroom, I open my closet, trying to decide which jersey I’m going to wear tonight. I look to the left side of my closet which is completely black from all my Penguins gear. I flip through my jerseys: Sidney, Marc-Andre, Neal, all the while my eyes tear up again. Would I own a Carr jersey if he goes to Pittsburgh? Would I cheer if he is on the same line as Sidney? I can’t think about it now, I need to go be the perfect, quiet daughter. I jerk down my number seventy-one long sleeve shirt and throw it on with a pair of jeans. I quickly throw on a layer of makeup. I toss my hair into a ponytail and curl the ends. I walk back into the living room and slip on my tennis shoes.
“Are you ready?” Trevor asks as he grabs the door handle.
“Might as well get it over with,” I huff.
~ ~ ~
I hate city traffic. It’s always bumper to bumper and there is nowhere to park. However, my brother finds a spot and we walk our way through the crowds to enter to the Rangers-Penguins game. I head straight for the concession stand and grab two beers. I down one as fast as I can.
“Dad doesn’t like it when you drink,” Trevor says in my ear.
“Ask me if I care right now?” I snap back at him.
“Presley, please. Don’t go all crazy tonight. Not in front of dad.” Trevor looks at me sternly. I know what he means. My dad doesn’t like to cause a scene and I know I shouldn’t push any buttons. I nod at Trevor and sip my beer. We head to our seats and dad is already sitting there.
“Trevor, my son, how are you?” Dad wraps Trevor into a big hug and pats his back. “Presley.” My dad just pats my shoulder. Figures, I don’t get a hug. I just plop down in my seat and chug my beer down. “Presley, sit up straight,” my dad commands and I do. Dad sits between us and I begin my stare down with the ice. The warms-ups have started, and I’m watching my boys in their white away jerseys. Dad and Trevor are talking away to each other, but I’m still not included.
“What do you think Presley?” Dad asks.
“Huh?” I look at him like he just grew a third eye.
“I asked what you thought about getting some food after the game?” Trevor looks around dad and at me. We don’t need to say anything because we both are in shock. My dad never asks me about anything. So, all I can do now is nod my head.
“Great. I think that tacos sound good.” I feel like I’m in some sci-fi movie and dad is the alien. I shake my head and stare back out at the ice.
The game starts and we all are on our feet yelling and clapping for our teams. The game is intense and every play has us all on the edge of our seats. The game and the intermissions all go by so fast. My dad only talked to me that one time, but Trevor tries to have me join in the conversations; it doesn’t work.
Rangers win, which is okay with me because I still got to see my players on the ice and I enjoy that a lot. We leave and head down the street to our favorite taco place. It’s busy, but we are able to get food and a table. We eat in silence, like always, until dad makes conversation. He talks about his job, Trevor’s hockey career, and I just sit there.
“Presley, you’re quiet tonight. Anything on your mind?” I’m brought out of my trace when my dad speaks to me.
“Um, no daddy.” I shake my head. I know better than to talk about my sorrows with my dad. He never cared before, why would today be different?
“Trevor, go and grab us some more drinks.” Dad hands Trevor money.
“Presley, Trevor told me what happened with Levi. Are you okay?” Shock is the only emotion I’m feeling right now. My father has never cared about my relationships, ever.
“Daddy, what are you doing?”
“I’m talking to you.” He looks at me like I’m the one that is crazy.
“Why? You never talk to me.” Maybe dad is having some type of midlife crisis.
My dad sighs. “Ok, so we haven’t talked a lot before, but you’re my daughter and I know how much you care for Levi. I want to make sure you are okay.”
“Daddy, you met him once and how do you know how much I cared for him?”
Dad laughs. “I may have only met him once, but I saw the look in your eyes and the look in his. I’m old, but not a fool. He loves you and you love him.” I don't want to cry in front of my dad. All these years and he never says anything to me and now he cares.
“Why are you telling me this Daddy?” My voice is low and cracks when I speak. I swallow down the lump that is stuck in my throat.