Hockey Is My Boyfriend: Part Two Page 5

  “Didn’t she say she’s got a boyfriend?” Riley asked. “A big one?”

  “Jesus, Riley. She was bullshitting. Nobody has a boyfriend named Thor. You gotta learn about women. They play hard to get because they want you to work for it.” Steve lay back on his bed with his hands behind his head. “A girl like Kelly is going to be a pushover for the master.”

  “Too bad the master’s not here,” X-man called from his bed. He was lying there with headphones on, and I didn’t even know he was listening. We all laughed and stopped talking about Kelly. But when I went to bed, I found myself thinking about her again. I hoped she would come to the gym in the morning.

  7

  Sleepless in Lake Carswell

  I am on the dock of Lake Carswell, and it’s hot and humid. The shoreline looks the same except for the palm trees among the scrubby pines. Jimmy walks towards me on the dock, wearing only a pair of board shorts. His upper body is smooth, cut, and hairless. His pecs are well defined, and his shoulders are broad. He has a six-pack and a shallow dent at his navel. A happy trail of golden hair the same colour as his skin leads down to his baggy blue board shorts. He comes right up to me, and the air begins to shimmer with heat around us. I complain it’s so hot, and he tells me that’s because I have too many clothes on. So I lift my arms, he takes off my t-shirt, and I’m totally naked underneath. There’s a crowd on the deck, and they’re cheering. I mention that to Jimmy and he says, “Do you want me to stop, Kelly?” And I say, “No, don’t stop. Don’t ever stop, Jimmy.” And then he holds me tightly, and he kisses me hard and he puts one muscular thigh between my legs and forces them apart and—I wake up.

  I woke up all sweaty and disoriented, with the sheets twisted around my legs. I’d had sex dreams before, but this one seemed so real. I felt I already knew Jimmy intimately, when I had only met him yesterday.

  The whole thing was dumb. In real life, Jimmy was way too young for me. The best word to describe him was weird. Not to mention the super-flattering way he kept telling me he wasn’t interested. So why was I having sex dreams about him?

  Well, there was no accounting for the workings of the subconscious mind. Maybe it had been too long since I’d had sex. I counted back and calculated the last time that I’d had sex was almost exactly six months ago. J.P. had come over to my apartment after his job, and we spent the night all tangled up in my single bed. He always complained I needed a bigger bed, but he was able to fall sleep anywhere, especially after having sex. In the morning, his cellphone rang and woke both of us up. It was his former hockey team in Switzerland; their starting goalie was out for the season, and they needed a new back-up. He was on a plane the next day, and we never even got a chance to say goodbye properly.

  Not that it mattered much; we weren’t in love or anything. J.P. was a lot of laughs, and he helped me to unwind. He also showed me Phil wasn’t magical or anything—any guy with the right equipment could make me feel good. Well, that wasn’t quite true, because technique was important too. Which was why a kid like Jimmy wasn’t on the menu, no matter what my subconscious thought.

  It was time to get up anyway. I yanked on shorts, a sports bra, a running tank, and my cross trainers. Instead of washing my face, I pulled on a ball cap, grabbed my pack, and headed for the gym.

  I heard the clink of weights when I got there. Jimmy seemed to be well into his routine already. He was doing squats, and I checked out his ass. He had a huge butt, but there wasn’t an ounce of fat on it. I eyed the definition in his legs as he extended upwards. His thighs were huge too.

  Then I noticed Jimmy was watching me watch him in the mirror. Oh, fuck me. Next he was probably going to tell me not to get interested in him again.

  “Good morning,” I said. “Nice form there.” That sounded good: professional and impersonal. Then I realized he might think I was talking about his ass, and I started blushing. It was too early for this crap.

  “You’re late. I’ve been here for ages.” Mr. Charm in the mornings.

  I hopped onto the bike and warmed up a little. At the beginning, I did my own thing and he did his, but later I noticed Jimmy watching my lunges carefully. I ignored him, but suddenly he appeared right next to me. I realized I hadn’t brushed my teeth. There was no accusing me of getting too fixed up for the occasion.

  “You’re not doing them right.” He reached down and grabbed my ankles. His hands were sweaty, and a tingle ran up my legs. Jimmy made a tiny adjustment in my foot position. “See the difference?”

  Honestly, I couldn’t see a difference, but I could feel one as I dipped downwards. The guy was right about everything to do with hockey and, apparently, training. I finished my workout and did some stretching. Jimmy’s workout seemed to take hours and looked pretty technical. Maybe later I could get him to teach me some of it.

  “If you want to take a shower, you can go to the dressing room,” he said. I nodded and headed over. I loved getting my workout done early.

  “Lock the door behind you,” he called out. “In case someone else shows up.”

  Again I had the feeling he was being overcautious. Jimmy was the only one here, and I wasn’t hoping he’d come in, my dreams aside.

  Twenty-four young girls arrived at the camp that morning, and I could say goodbye to all my free time. I supervised skating, dressing rooms, scrimmages, and free time by day and then had to make sure two cabins of girls got to sleep at night.

  It seemed that because I was a girl, I had to supervise all the girls. Although the ratio of counsellors to boys was way higher, hardly any of them would help me out. Were they afraid of getting girl cooties? During the day, there were ice sessions and dryland training. I had assigned duties with the boys and girls. But off ice, I did everything with the girls, and I was exhausted by day two. These were not docile, obedient girls; these were high-energy, hockey-playing girls. I realized they were clones of me when I was twelve or thirteen.

  Well, I wasn’t completely on my own. Eric and Xavier pitched in at random times. I wondered about this, but Xavier said straight up they had been ordered to help me. That seemed odd, because I was sure Burt hadn’t noticed my problems yet, and I didn’t want to complain.

  Jimmy tried to help me too, but he was already swamped since he was the most popular instructor at camp. On the ice with the kids, he was great,, all positive and helpful. Something about kids seemed to bring out his full hoser; when he talked it was all: “Way to go, bud,” and “Beauty goal there.” And he did it in both official languages. The kids loved it and trailed after him on and off the ice. But that was the Dr. Jekyll part of him, all intensity and maturity on the ice. When he was on the ice, going full out, I found Jimmy really cool. Or maybe hot was the better word.

  When I watched him at a scrimmage, it was all I could do not to follow him to the dressing room and lock the door behind us. Luckily for me, he was too busy being in the compete zone to notice anything.

  On the other hand, Mr. Hyde was a whole other story. Off the ice, he was kind of a doofus. We hung in the gym and at mealtimes, and Jimmy was always teasing me. That was a lot better than the leering come-ons of the Steve-O’s of the world. But I could tell Jimmy wasn’t totally confident off the ice, no matter how much he tried to be cool. At least he had stopped telling me not to come on to him. We were buddies, and that was fine.

  The only problem was my dreams. After my days chasing the girls around, I fell into bed exhausted. Not so exhausted I didn’t have sex dreams about Jimmy every single night. I guessed I was attracted to him physically, but it was something I could keep on the back burner. Luckily, the girls were keeping me busy enough that I didn’t have time to worry. This week was flying by. If I weren’t so exhausted, I would have loved the whole experience.

  8

  Dreamboat

  Jimmy

  Kelly was so busy that I hardly got to talk to her, much less be alone with her. The only time we had alone together was our mornings in the gym. Who knew how long that might last, since a
few of the guys had found out I was working out and made noises about joining in. So far, they all preferred to sleep in. I never mentioned Kelly was there too, since I knew that would bring a crowd. Every night Steve-O told us he was closer to getting into her pants, but I didn’t believe it. Kelly wasn’t like that. The more I got to know her, the more I realized how innocent she was. I felt like she was younger than me in some ways.

  If the boys knew how good she looked when she worked out, they would have been there in two seconds. Kelly concentrated fully at the gym, and I liked to watch her. She pushed so hard, and she had increased the weight she was lifting in the short time we were together. Girls seemed to sweat differently from guys; she was all shiny and glowing instead of stinky and gross. I had given Kelly some tips about form and technique, and you didn’t need to tell her anything twice. She was interested in my routine, so I took her through it. She spotted me if I needed it, and it was doubly motivating to have her there encouraging me. She never wore any makeup in the gym, yet she still looked cute. I was starting to wonder if my ideal of the perfect ladylike blonde would be as much fun to hang out with. Kelly never made me feel awkward.

  I had finished a set of cable pulls when I noticed Kelly had stopped doing her chest presses. I walked over, and she was fast asleep on the bench. I looked down at her.

  Her eyelashes were long, her skin was perfect, and her lips were full and flushed with colour. I imagined what it would be like to kiss her, and I was tempted to lean down and try. But you couldn’t kiss someone when they were unconscious.

  “Kelly?”

  She woke up with a start and apologized. “Sorry, I… um, have I been asleep long?”

  “No, maybe a couple of minutes. Are you okay?”

  “I’m so tired.” Even her voice was flat.

  “Is the camp too tough for you?”

  “Not the hockey part, it’s at night. The girls in one cabin settle down, and I have to go to the other. Then the first cabin gets going again and I have to go back. Back and forth. I’m not getting enough sleep.”

  I knew I couldn’t function without a full night’s sleep. “Why don’t you talk to Burt?”

  “It’s okay. It’s only for a couple of weeks. I can handle it.” Now that I looked closely I could see the dark smudges under her eyes. Poor Kelly was working day and night, no wonder some of her spark was missing.

  “You know, you don’t have to do it all yourself,” I told her.

  Something about those words was familiar. It was what my mom used to say to me when I was a kid. If I was captain of the team, I had to lead and do the most, and if we lost I took it to heart. I would be unhappy and want to punish myself. The other kids would go off and have forgotten the game within minutes, but I would think about how plays had gone and what I could do better the next time. Kelly was like that; I saw her make mistakes in the gym or on the ice, but I never saw her make the same mistakes over and over. It was like she too could replay the game in her head and figure out what had gone wrong and how to fix it.

  She watched me intently when I was on the ice, and I figured she was trying to understand exactly what I was doing and what made me good. I kind of hoped she was looking because she liked me. Now here she was, all tired out from trying to do too much. I could do something about that.

  “Why don’t you take a little nap?” I suggested.

  “I can’t. There’s no place. The girls are in and out of the cabin all day. And anyway, I have to work.”

  “You could take a nap during the video session today,” I pointed out. “You can go to my room. No kids and none of the guys are there in the daytime.”

  “I can’t sleep in your room, that’s too weird.”

  I insisted. That afternoon, before the video session, I pulled Kelly out and took her up to my room.

  “I don’t know, Jimmy. This isn’t right. I should be working.”

  “Lie down,” I told her. Too tired to argue, she lay down on my bed, and I put a blanket over her.

  Her head popped up. “Promise you’ll wake me up in 20 minutes, I have to supervise the free time.”

  “I will, now go to sleep.”

  I had imagined her in my bed before, but not like this. She was asleep before I closed the door.

  Steve was on his way to the room as I made my way down to the office.

  “Hey, can you hold up going into our room for half an hour?” I asked.

  “Why?”

  “Kelly’s taking a nap in there.”

  “Y’know Jimbo, it works better if you get into bed with the girl. That’s why it’s called sleeping together.”

  “Whatever. She’s really tired, and she has to share a cabin with twelve little girls.”

  “You’re Mr. Nice Guy, aren’t you? You know where they always finish. Maybe I’ll pop in there and keep her company.”

  “Don’t,” I told him. Only one word, but he could tell I meant it. Steve-O turned around and came down the hall with me.

  “So, what’s going on with you and Kelly?”

  “Nothing. We’re just friends.”

  “With benefits?”

  “No.” As much as I fantasized.

  “Yeah, she keeps blowing me off too. A hockey player, eh. Maybe she’s a lesbo.”

  “I don’t think so.” I was sure that Kelly was interested in guys.

  “I’m beginning to wonder if she is hot, or she’s looking good because she’s the only female in a ten-kilometer radius,” he speculated.

  That was so like Steve-O. He couldn’t get anywhere with Kelly, so now he was going to start putting her down. But maybe then he would leave her alone. Kelly hadn’t said anything after the first day, but I could tell by her body language when he and Riley hung around her that she wasn’t comfortable.

  Steve-O was a good guy to hang out with for hockey or drinking. But since his knee injury, he seemed bitter and less easygoing. At one time I had looked up to him; now I saw him more and more as a guy whose big dream might be passing him by and he didn’t have a Plan B.

  “Whatever, Steve-O.”

  He laughed. “Never thought I’d see the day when I’d get sniped by Freshy. But you haven’t sealed the deal yet, have you?”

  “It’s not like that,” I told him.

  “She’s in your bed, man. She wants you.” He laughed, but it was a nasty laugh.

  “Screw you.” I walked away.

  “Telling it like it is, buddy,” he called after me, still laughing.

  I watched to make sure he didn’t go back to our room and then carried on to the office. Burt wasn’t there, but Trudy was, and she was probably the better person to talk to. I explained the situation with Kelly, how hard she was working and how exhausted she was.

  Trudy made some tsking-noises and reached for her old Rolodex. “I told Burt he needed at least two girls here, but he isn’t totally sold on girl hockey players yet. Originally, we had Deirdre Tough, but she got called up by Team Canada, so we got Kelly instead.”

  She looked over her glasses at me. “She’s a nice girl, isn’t she? And she works hard. But is it disruptive having a girl here?”

  “No, it’s great.” That sounded wrong, so I added something obvious about how so many girls were playing nowadays.

  Trudy found the number she was looking for. “Yes, it’s a new world of hockey. But now we have to worry about hormones too. We don’t want any hanky-panky going on.”

  I turned red as she continued. “Some of these girls are fourteen, but they act like they’re eighteen. Well, we’ve done everything we could, short of having a girls-only week. If we get more girls enrolled next year, maybe we can do that.”

  I quickly realized she was talking about the campers and not the staff. “So, about Kelly?”

  “Yes, don’t worry, Jimmy. I have someone in mind who can help us out. Not a hockey player, but good with kids.”

  Twenty minutes were up, so I went back to my room. Once again, I couldn’t help but stare at Kelly as she slep
t. She looked so sweet and vulnerable. The more I saw her, the more beautiful she looked. I was an idiot for telling her not to be interested in me. I wished I could take everything back. Why had I been clinging to some ridiculous fantasy of what a girlfriend should look like? I leaned down to wake her up, and she stirred a little.

  “Oh Jimmy,” she said. Was she talking to me? I looked down, but her eyes were still closed.

  “Hey, Kelly.” I poked her shoulder.

  “Oh God, Jimmy…”

  “Uh Kelly?”

  “Yes, do it.”

  Her eyes flew open. “Oh shit,” she said and sat up.

  “Kelly, did you—uh, what were you saying?”

  She raked her fingers through her hair. Throwing off the blanket, she jumped out of bed and put on her shoes. All the time she was talking so fast I couldn’t get a word in edgewise. “Gosh, um, thanks so much for letting me take a nap here. Man, I feel so much better now. But anyway, now I have to go and supervise the girls’ free time. I will see you later.”

  She raced out of the room, crashing into X-man’s bed and then the doorjamb. Then she disappeared.

  That was weird.

  9

  Because I’m Worth It

  “Guess what, Jimmy?”

  I was totally excited and started bouncing up and down. We were sitting on the players’ bench while evaluating the scrimmage. I noticed Steve was watching me, actually watching my chest, and stopped bouncing. What a perv.

  “What?” Jimmy asked, keeping his eyes on the ice.

  “Burt let me know, they’re bringing in another girl to help out. She’s not a hockey player, but she’s a local girl who is taking courses in early childhood education. Her name is Loreal.”

  Steve perked up. “Loreal? I don’t know her. What a crazy name. I’m picturing a tall, gorgeous blonde.” He smiled, obviously honing his seduction plans for the new girl. If this meant he would finally leave me alone, it was almost as good as the news about getting help.