“Because of one game? That’s . . . that’s . . . preposterous. Oh my God, they are such morons. You were the best rookie last season, and you led the league in goals.” Rachel begins to slow clap obnoxiously. “Good job, Brawlers, way to get rid of a future Hall of Famer because he was mad about losing.”
If I wasn’t so fucking black inside right now, I might have laughed from how outrageous Rachel is acting.
“That is so . . .” She pauses, her eyes traveling to the sky, thinking for a brief moment. “Uh . . . Calder, does this mean you can be traded?”
He shakes his head, bringing his beer to his lips. “I have a no-trade clause in my contract, so we’re good, babe.”
“Ugh, why didn’t you have that in your contract?” Rachel asks.
“He was a rookie, Rach. It wasn’t an option.”
“This is such bullshit.” Tell me about it. “So you’re going to the Quakes? In Los Angeles? That’s so far away?” A light bulb must go off in her head. “And that’s why Adalyn and you broke up?”
Gulping down some more beer, I say, “That’s why she broke it off with me.” I swallow hard. “It’s why she said what we had was just a fling.”
“She said that?” Calder asks, looking genuinely surprised. Join the club, man. “Didn’t seem like a fling when we were in the city.”
“It wasn’t.” I shake my head, the beer bottle posed at my lips. “It wasn’t to me.”
“And it wasn’t to her,” Rachel adds. “There was more to it than a fling for her, so don’t you believe her for one second about that.”
“I don’t know.” I take a seat in a bar stool. “She was pretty quick to leave.” Sighing, my shoulders slouched, the beer hanging between my legs now. “It doesn’t matter anymore. She said she didn’t want to move. I have no choice. It’s over.” In less than twelve hours, two important and life-changing choices were denied me. You’d think being a professional athlete some things should stay in my control. Clearly I have that all wrong, because nothing is in my control. And thatfucking sucks.
Calder and Rachel exchange glances, pained and sullen. They don’t have to say anything else. I know how much this sucks, how much I wish my life were playing out differently right now but unfortunately when your profession is at the mercy of others, there is nothing that can be done. And as much I wish Adalyn were by my side, I’m not about to give up hockey to try to make things work with a girl who seems to have given up on what we had.Without hesitation.
We had an epic few days together, but within twenty-four hours of being back, she was done.Done.Yes, there were tears, but at the first mention of the trade she made up her mind.Was she right?Was it inevitable? Even if I stayed in Philly? Would she have given us up even if I stayed? Had I read her completely wrong during the time we were together?
If she’s not going to answer any of my messages, why bother?Move on.As much as I hate that term and the pain it’s going to cause me, I have to do it. She doesn’t want me.Maybe she never did.
I have to turn the page, mentally say goodbye to the girl I cherished, and start a new chapter.
* * *
Smog.
It’s everywhere.
It’s suffocating.
It’s dirty and fucking depressing. It’s a representation of my life. A dark cloud hanging over a bright spot.
This should be exciting for me, or so I was told by my agent. A new city, a new team, a new chance to dominate.
But I have no desire to look on the bright side, not when my finger hovers over Adalyn’s number every day. Not when my mom continuously calls me to cry into the phone, not when I have absolutely zero friends here.
I’ve been in Los Angeles for three weeks and there is nothing I like about it.
I’ve met some of the guys on the Quakes, and they’re cool and all, but I came from a team that was one game away from playing for the championship to a team with the worst record in the league.
Worst fucking record.
It’s not like this trade was an upgrade for me. It was a kick to the goddamn balls.
Sitting in my high-rise apartment, my legs kicked up on my coffee table, I survey the smog-soaked air, going over an interview I had this morning at a local TV station. Good Morning, Malibu. The hosts, Noely and Dylan, were nice, both huge hockey fans, super excited about me being here. Hell, every Quakes fan is ecstatic, and it’s nice to be welcomed so warmly. We talked about random things; Dylan seemed to want to get me to talk more to Noely but luckily, before things could get super awkward, I had to leave for another radio interview.
Could have been worse. Could have been like the interview yesterday where the girl tried to grab my crotch when I went in for a handshake.
Sighing, I unlock my phone and bring up Adalyn’s contact information.
