“C’mon man, she’s lying. I’m not the first player she’s done this to. She has a thing against hockey players. Maybe one broke her heart back in the day and now she’s taking it out on the rest of us.”
If only he knew the full story. “So, she didn’t offer you an extra credit assignment that you turned down because it was ‘too much work’?”
Silence, the closest thing to a confession that I would get. “It appears some wires were crossed—” I gave him a pointed look, “— so for that reason, we decided the three of us would have a meeting and decide what the best course of action would be. With the goal of getting you back on track so we don’t have to pull you off the ice.”
That manages to get a reaction from him. “Pulling me off the ice?! I thought you were fixing this not making it worse.”
“Thisispart of fixing the issue. I can’t say for certain I know exactly what her plan will be, but I’ll be there too. I am on your side, Jake. Even if it doesn’t feel like I am.”
I wanted to support him in more ways than he realized. Just because I made the mistake of putting all my eggs in a puck-shaped basket doesn’t mean he had to.
Jake appears vulnerable and small as he softly asks, “So I’m officially banned from playing then?”
“Not yet. But you will be soon if you don’t take this meeting with Violet, and whatever plan comes with it, seriously.”
“Shit. Alright. You sure she’ll be reasonable about this?”
If he was as persistent on the ice as he was now, we’d be locked in for the championship this year. “I’m sure. Should we figure out a date to meet then?”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
eight
. . .
Violet
There isone place in the world I know I can go without any chance of running into Mason. The irony was it happened to be the same place we met so many years ago, a place we once both called home. Despite living only an hour train ride away from Castle Harbor, I hadn’t visited in several months. According to Monroe, Mason hadn’t visited in years and every time she tried to broach the subject, he made up some excuse as to why he couldn’t come back. I wanted to pry into why he suddenly stopped visiting home, but those are things friends know, not ex-‘will they won’t they’s.
As soon as my feet step off the train, I am heading toward my first stop— a small park lined with rows of trees, settled on the outskirts of town. The trees, once covered in gorgeous leaves in shades of red, orange, and yellow, are now bare, the leaves piled on the ground. Soon this place will be covered in a beautiful castof snow, and from afar, the scenery will look like it belongs inside a snow globe. While the temperature was the type of cold that made you want to stay inside burrowed under a cozy blanket, the park is still filled with parents trying their best to keep their kids bundled up while chasing them around the park. I manage to find an open bench toward the edge of the park. Across the street, I can see my old elementary school, a small rectangular building covered in faded blue paint, almost as old as the town itself.
Teachers born and raised in Castle Harbor would tell us stories about the library that many believe is haunted by the ghost of a former U.S. president. At first, I was convinced it was an elaborate story the librarians concocted to scare us into turning in our books on time, until one day in the second grade. I finished my classwork early and asked my teacher if I could go to the library to continue reading a book I had been hooked on. I was nose-deep in a whodunit mystery when, out of nowhere, a stack of books fell from the shelves one by one. I initially thought one of my classmates had snuck in and was trying to scare me. Until I realized the only two people in the library were myself and the librarian who was standing on the opposite side of the room and had a look of pure fear on her face. We locked eyes for a second before we both ran out of the library and never spoke of that day again.
I always feel a mix of emotions when I think back to my early days in Castle Harbor. I had been thrilled that my mom and I were able to start something different, something new and hopefully happier, now that we were away from my father. But I also felt so out of place. All my classmates had lived there their entire lives, along with their parents and grandparents. They seemed to distrust out-of-towners and made no room for me in their friend groups. Luckily, none of that mattered to Monroe.
I was by myself at the end of a long wooden table when she took one look at my Lilo and Stich-themed lunch box, sat down next to me, and declared we were best friends. I was in noposition to turn down friendship, and frankly, her forceful approach scared me a little, so I simply nodded my head. The rest was history. We’d spent the rest of lunch talking about our favorite Disney characters, and for the first time, Castle Harbor started to feel like a place I could call home.
A few weeks after that day, Monroe stayed home sick with a stomach bug. Not wanting to be alone again, I sat down next to a group of kids from my class whose names Monroe had mentioned to me when she was giving me a run-down of the playground rules. Things started off okay until I pulled out my Tupperware from my lunch box. My mom had packed me leftovers from dinner, a traditional Iranian beef stew filled with cooked spinach, beans, and rice. It was my absolute favorite food in the world, but as I went to dig in the kids around me squealed in disgust. I felt myself getting smaller and smaller as they made comments about how gross my lunch looked, how bad it smelled, and how my mom must not love me if this was what she fed me. That last comment earned a laugh from everyone sitting around me. I realized that without Monroe I was an outsider in my own hometown.
I did my best to blink away my tears, not wanting to give my classmates another reason to make fun of me. A tall boy from the grade above threw his bag down on the floor and sat down next to me. He had soft-looking brown hair and kind green eyes as he glanced between me and my lunch. That brown hair and those green eyes belonged to Mason Hayes. He looked at my face, then at the food sitting in front of me, before taking the spoon from my hand and taking a large bite.
“Tell your mom I said thanks for making my favorite. Those PB&Js were getting boring.”
He placed his sandwich in front of me, as if trading lunches was our everyday routine. A wave of silence washed over the table as everyone watched Mason finish the stew and all but lick the container clean in a matter of minutes. He angled his eyes toward the tinfoil-wrapped sandwich in front of me, promptingme to eat, and spent the rest of our lunch period talking to me like we were old pals. I mumbled a soft ‘thank you’ to him as I passed him on the bus. He walked me home after and didn’t leave until he saw my mom and told her he loved the food she had made me for lunch. She sent me to school the next day with two Tupperware, which Mason gladly accepted. No one teased me about my food after that.
I let out a deep breath as the memory faded away. The hurt always manages to linger, despite my best efforts to move on. Though he wasn’t physically here, the longer I stay in my favorite places in Castle Harbor the more I feel Mason’s presence. I hate how coming back to this place means I can’t ignore how deeply Mason Hayes was embedded in my life. I suppose that’s what happens after nearly twenty years of friendship. Even when they hurt you, they remain a part of you forever.
“Violet Amin, did you think you could sneak into town without seeing me first? Just wait until I tell Elaine.”
My eyes snap up to a familiar set of green eyes— Mason and Monroe's eyes. The older woman heading toward me is Melissa Hayes, my second mom. Her platinum blonde hair had faded slightly over the years, now a more subtle shade mixed with strands of gray.
I stand up from the bench and throw my arms around her squeezing tightly. She lets out a melodic laugh before returning the hug.
“Don’t think you’re not still in trouble missy. It’s been entirely too long since I last saw you.”
“I know. Things have been so chaotic with school and work and just life.” I shrug. “But I’m here now.” My smile feels a bit forced.
“I was just heading over to your mom’s. Care to join me?”
