CLEO
DON’T EVER LET THEM SEE YOU CRY.
My dad told me that, way back when I played hockey with boys. He said that if they sensed weakness, they would go after me even harder. The only way for a girl to succeed was to be stronger than the guys.
And, somehow, that became my life philosophy. Nothing can hurt me—insults, injuries, breakups, are all nothing. I laugh it all off and transform my pain into funny stories. Like my legendary ex-boyfriend tales.
But losing Mats isn’t something I can slough off so easily. Everything I’ve lost keeps looping through my mind. How sweet Mats is. His subtle sense of humour. His kindness. His eyebrow language. The way he treated me like I was beautiful, sexy, and special. How gorgeous he is, inside and out—he’s truly golden.
And now it’s all gone. Not even one more second of being cradled in his strong arms, feeling treasured for the first time in my entire life. And the most shattering discovery is that I’m in love, for the very first time. Because how can it hurt this much if it’s not love? As usual, I’m too fucking late to the party, and now I’ll never get to tell Mats how I feel.
I push down my emotions, powering through our two weekend games, both wins. We clinch first place. I even fake being happy and celebrating with my teammates. It’s my duty as captain. Besides, it’s my own fault. Mats is right. I straight-up lied, so I deserve to lose the best guy I’ve ever known.
Late Saturday night, when my games are over and I’m finally back home, I head up to my room and let my brave face fall away. I wait until my roommates have gone to bed, and then I take a shower.
All the tears I’ve been holding back finally come, muffled by the noise of the shower. I sob and sob into the stream of water. It doesn’t ease the ache in my chest, but I’m exhausted enough to sleep.
Sunday is my mother’s birthday party. It’s pretty much the last thing I want to do, but I can’t cancel. I get dressed. When I put on the burgundy top that Mats picked just for me, it only reminds me that I’ll never get to go shopping with him again.
Hey. My roommates are sitting around the dining room table. They stare at me cautiously, like I’m made of glass and the wrong word will shatter me. Shit, did they hear me crying?
You look good, Woolly says.
I know, a miracle, right? My joke lands wrong, and no one laughs.
Everything okay? Becks asks. Her voice is gentle, which is a shock, because she’s had little sympathy for my current situation. I told her everything that happened, and her advice was to crawl back to Mats, confess to being an idiot, tell him I believed only him, and beg to get back together. When I asked what I was supposed to do about my family, all she said was, Your family sucks. Not exactly helpful.
Yeah, fine, I lie. Because that’s what I do, right, Mats? Lie about the important stuff, like how much I miss you. And it’s not just the amazing sex, it’s his support. He always had my back. That’s why I went straight to see him when I was upset, which was one of my dumber ideas.
I get out the bread and make myself PB&J toast. I pretend to look at my phone as I eat breakfast, but all I’m looking at are my few photos of me and Mats. I should have taken hundreds, because I knew that we were too good to last. Although I figured that our breakup would be triggered by something that made sense, like Mats realizing he was too good for me and moving on.
There’s an awkward silence, since I’m usually so talkative. I sense that my roommates are going to stage a full-fledged empathy session at any moment, so I decide to flee.
I think I’ll wait for my ride outside. I get my coat and boots on and walk out to the street.
Graham Aldrich, my mom’s boyfriend, is the lucky person who gets to drive me to and from Hillsboro. Graham seems okay, even though we’ve never really gotten to know each other. He’s pretty quiet and, frankly, on the boring side. I find it hard to believe that Mom would choose him after Dad, but maybe she wanted someone who was the opposite of her ex-husband. Anyway, he’s a nice guy and they have a quiet relationship, which is, again, the opposite of the dramatic fights and more-dramatic reunions of my parents’ marriage.
His nondescript sedan pulls up, and I hop inside.
Thanks so much for coming all this way to get me, I say.
Graham smiles. Well, you’re the best present I could bring to Sadie.
He drives at exactly five miles below the speed limit. We’re half an hour into the drive, and the conversation has been very sporadic.
Is something bothering you, Cleo? You seem a little quiet.
Well, that’s an understatement. Then I wonder if this is my chance to get a message through to my mom, one that I can’t say at her party.
Yeah, I’m actually pretty upset about something. You know, when Mom called my dad about Jordan not picking me up, it turned into a whole big thing. I really wish she hadn’t done that.
Graham doesn’t answer right away, which reminds me of Mats, so I die a little inside.
What was the whole big thing? he asks.
Ugh. Do I have to talk about this again? Well, at least Graham already knows what happened to Jordan at Monarch, so I don’t have to rehash that fuckfest. I condense my sad story into the highlights, or, really, the lowlights. And so, my boyfriend and I ended up breaking up, I conclude.
There’s another long silence. Really, how does Mom converse with this guy? It’s like taking a commercial break between each play of the game.
