While waiting in line, I couldn’t help but notice all the girls with perfectly sleek hair dressed to the nines in shimmery crop tops, stylish jeans, and leather skirts. I slightly cringed looking down at myself in my frumpy sweater and leggings. I originally liked my outfit when I put it on today. I thought my hair looked nice, and I even smoothed some lip gloss on… and my sweater hid my baby bump. It’s not that I felt like I needed to hide it necessarily, but I still hadn’t told people, so… this felt like the right option. But now… I hated how intimidated I felt.
Nick had this way of always making me feel so secure in places like this, so I never felt inferior. But standing there alone, it kind of hit me like a bag of bricks that if I did ever hope to be with someone again, how the hell would I compete with these kinds of girls? I felt stupid for even thinking that. Skating probably made me see all other girls as competition… but a small worry in the back of my brain whispered that I had to face it… Nick was gone, and I was aloneagain.
To make matters worse, I caught sight of a couple other players, and as I moved up in line, I was able to hear some of theirconversation…
One guy with longer hair that I recognized from Nick’s funeral was trying to be the court jester apparently… and I unfortunately was the butt of all his jokes.
“Yeah, she’s definitely the one who was dating Nick Johns. And now she’s with Griff? Duke? Maybe both of them? Who fuckin knows. Seems like she goes from one guy to the next. Puck slut, am I right?” he asked the group around him. They all seemed to be laughing at his mean little jokes.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath and reminded myself that there truly was a Taylor Swift song for every life occasion, and this one’s was simply “Mean”. He was probably just mad that he was a shit player compared to Nick, Griff, and Duke. This guy looked like he was destined to be stuck in the minors for his whole career and he wasjealous….
But that didn’t stop his words from replaying like a loop in myhead…
And that didn’t stop the tears from threatening to come forward as soon as I was in the privacy of the grimy bathroom stall.
It was just that damn title too. “Puck slut”. I hated it. Why couldn’t girls just be hockey fans without getting labeled? Why did a girl’s hockey intelligence always get attributed to:Oh, she probably just has crushes on the players? Guys were never accused of that; it wasn’t fair.
As I sat there trying to calm down, more mean whispers interrupted mythoughts.
“Did you see her sitting there all smitten with that Griffiths guy? He was number 17 tonight. Looks like she moved on pretty damn fast,” one girl whispered, making the others giggle.
It sounded like there were three of them.
“She’s not even pretty. Her hair needs major attention and she’s frumpy looking.”
“Yeah, a super plain-Jane if you know what I mean,” the first girl agreed. “I don’t know what Nick Johns ever saw inher.”
“Ugh, if only I could be with multiple hockey guys. Like what the fuck?” another one cackled.
And that’s all I could take.
I slammed the stall door open and fixed them with a stare.
One girl’s mouth dropped open, probably shocked I just heard everything they said, but she quickly recovered and held her mouth in a disapproving grimace.
I tried to remain calm even though I felt my blood boiling. I held my head high and walked toward them to wash my hands, keeping eye contact with the girl who looked like she was the leader.
“I feel bad for you.” I looked at her reflection in the mirror. “Because the way you talk about me shows that you’ve never lost the love of your life, and it shows that you must not have many close friendships. Mybrotherand Griff are the only people I have left. So kindly fuck off,” I said firmly, then turned on my heel and marched out the door.
As I squished through the crowded bar to get back to our table, the confrontational adrenaline I felt coursing through my body just seconds earlier began to wear off, and I was left drained and slightly shaking.
When I sat back down, Griff’s eyes locked on mine, and he immediately knew something was wrong.
He leaned forward and whispered, “Sav, what happened?”
I blew out a shaky breath and shook my head. “God. I don’t know why I’m letting people get to me. I can usually handle this kind of thing. It must be the hormones. It’s so stupid…” I trailed off and quickly wiped a tear away.
His jaw clenched. “What happened?”
I avoided his concerned gaze. “No, it’s stupid,” I insisted while grabbing a napkin to try and salvage the little makeup I had swiped on earlier. “I just feel self-conscious is all.”
“Savannah,” he said slowly, forcing me to look back at him. He knew me well enough to know when I wasn’t telling the whole truth. “What happened?”
“This guy…” I rolled my still kind of teary eyes. “He called me a puck slut. It really isn’t a big deal; I just can’t handle anything right now. And then these mean girls in the bathroom… I just haven’t been out much lately and it hit me all at once.”
When I looked back up at him, his face was stone cold. “Whichguy?”
“No.” I said firmly and shook my head. “I don’t want to make a scene, Griff. It’s fine. I’m fine.” I patted his arm and sniffled up mytears.
