My heart has been beating a thousand beats per second it seems all day today. We’re down 3-2 in the first round of the playoffs. We need this win tonight or my season is over. Once that happens, I’m off to Utah apparently. I much rather be here as long as possible, fighting for the best trophy in sports. All we need to do is win this game tonight and then the next one.
During warm-ups, I spot Kinley in the crowd behind the net. Mild surprise runs through me that she’s here before I place all of my focus on the task before our team. I listen to every word Coach says, which boils down to remember the goal here, and then hope like hell we can deliver.
The first period doesn’t go as well as planned. We feel disconnected and have been inconsistent. We’re down 2-0. Everyone tries to rally together for the second before we go back on the ice. We’re tense, but we’re fighters too. It shows because we play in their zone quite a bit but only convert one goal.
2-1 at the end of the second period.
All we have to do is get a lead and hold it. Two goals from us and zero from them. That’s all we want.
But you don’t always get what you want, right? That was like a summary of my life before hockey and even sometimes afterwards. What we want ends up getting reversed and we lose 4-1.
Game over.
Season over.
Another year without even a close chance at winning.
The bar is calling my name, that’s for sure. We’ll have to work harder next season. I don’t even know which guys will stay or who will go. I just hope we can work well together so we win it all. When I get to the bar, I’m actually torn between wanting to sulk or finding a girl to fuck. For some reason, Kinley comes to mind. I pull my cell out and text her.
Me: We lost because of you.
Ten minutes go by before she responds.
Kinley: How so?
Me: You jinxed it with what you said that day. Happy?
Yeah, it’s her fault. If she hadn’t have said what she did, if she hadn’t have jinxed us, then maybe I would be celebrating a win right now. Her reply this time is quick.
Kinley: You’re a dumbass, Carson.
My lips lift in a quirk. That’s a lot nicer than what I was expecting.
Me: And now, I’m officially your dumbass until this clothes shit is over.
Kinley: This clothes shit is helping your career, remember that.
I really don’t see how this is helping my career directly. Public image wise, maybe. As far as my actual job, yeah, it really makes a difference.
Me: I can tell. That’s why it’s actually improved my hockey skills already.
Kinley: Yeah right, I really couldn’t tell that on the ice tonight.
If she was sitting in front of me, I would glare at her instead of at my phone.
Me: Ha, ha. Surprised you were even there.
Kinley: I was there for work, not pleasure. I would much rather be home watching a comedy.
Comedy? She likes comedies? Briefly, I wonder if she likes them as much as I do.
Me: You sound like you should do more pleasurable things. Might make you stop being so grumpy and grouchy. And wouldn’t have thought you’d like comedy. Sounds too fun for you.
Kinley: I do pleasurable things all the time. You’re just jealous because it’s not with you. And for your information, I’m a lot of fun.
There are so many things I could say about her doing pleasurable things, but I decide to pass on it.
Me: I don’t do jealously of any kind. I don’t even think I’ve seen you smile! Kind of hard to think you might be fun. Utah could prove me wrong. Maybe.