Pucked (Pucked 1)

Alex has come by on more than one occasion—not just at my house but at work, as well. So far everyone has been good at keeping him away from me, and I’m grateful. I don’t want to see him because I don’t think I’m strong enough not to cry all over him yet.

“What do you want to do with this box?” Charlene asks.

It’s labeled with a biohazard sticker.

“You can put it in my bedroom closet. I’ll figure out what I want to do with it later.”

She and my mom exchange a look.

“What’s in here?” Charlene rifles through the contents.

“All the stuff from Alex. I’m not ready to get rid of it, okay?”

My mom puts her arms around me and gives me a hug. “It’s okay, Vi. When you’re ready, we can get drunk and burn it all.”

I laugh and sniffle. Heartbreak is aptly named. The thought of burning the Waters beaver makes my stomach clench. I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready for that.

My mom does a little jump, like a yippy terrier and claps her hands. “I picked up a few new things for you!” She opens a box filled with brand new glassware. It’s another diversion, and I gladly take it. Thinking about Alex makes me emotional.

It turns out she went on a shopping spree with Sidney’s credit card, so I have a whole bunch of new things I didn’t anticipate. Including a flat screen television and an awesome leather couch. Once my living room and bedroom are set up, and most of the boxes are unpacked, we crack open some beers and order pizza.

Charlene stays long after everyone else goes home. We watch bad sitcoms on my hi-def TV until her eyes get droopy and she calls it a night. As soon as she leaves, the tears I’ve been holding onto all day begin to fall. I want the ache in my chest to stop, but I know it’ll take time. I torture myself by watching hockey highlights until my eyes are puffy and I’m too tired to keep them open. In bed, I toss and turn, unable to sleep.

I stare through the darkness at the closet. Several minutes later, I get out of bed and open the door. I flick on the interior light and kneel on the cold parquet floor to open the box. The Waters beaver is on top. I bring him back to bed with me. I want to hate Alex, but my heart hasn’t quite caught up with my head.Apartment living takes some time getting used to. It sucks when I forget something and have to wait for the elevator to go back up and get it. The walk to work is nice, though, and having my own place affords me some much-needed independence.

A few days after I move in, Buck stops by to play video games. It’s his way of making sure I’m okay. He also brings treats.

“I wasn’t sure what you’d want, so I brought options.” He hands me a tray with a milkshake and a chocolate sundae topped with peanuts.

“That’s a hard choice. I’m gonna have to go with the sundae.”

Buck follows me into the living room, which is about six feet away from the door, and we lounge on my couch. I dive into my sundae while Buck sets up the Xbox.

“How’s it hangin’ these days?”

“Limp and to the left.” I don’t even crack a smile.

“That bad, eh?” He’s adopted some Canadianisms from talking to Sunny.

“It’s fine. I’m fine.”

“You keep saying that, but I don’t know if I believe you, Vi.”

“This one’s gonna take a while for me to get over, that’s all.”

“Look, Violet, I know you feel shitty, but Waters is a huge dildo. You can do way better.” His phone rings. He holds up a finger and answers it. “Hey, babe . . . I’m with Violet . . . no, no way.” He shakes his head vehemently. “I’m not telling her that. He’s a dick—sorry. I know he’s your brother—” He chews on a hangnail while he listens for a few seconds. “I don’t—okay, Sunny. I miss you, too . . .”

There’s another minute of back and forth, followed by an air smooch. “Bye, Sunny Sunshine.”

I make gagging sounds as he hangs up. I shouldn’t ask, but I can’t help myself. “What did Sunny say?”

“Nothing important. Let’s play something violent.” He hands me a controller and picks up his own.

I don’t argue or push for more information. It’s better if he doesn’t tell me.

“I know it hasn’t been long, but maybe you need to go on a date or something. Get out there and have some fun.” He’s trying to be helpful; it’s nice but not realistic.

“This is fun.” I gesture to the screen where Buck is running over a pedestrian.

“You know what I mean. Sometimes you need to get back in the ring and fight.”