Page 19 of Shift Change

I chose the Bethesda Barracudas for my team, and after Holky finally settled on the Montreal Lynx, we went to battle. It was a hard-fought war with plenty of loud cursing, brilliant strategies, cruelly denied shots, and bloody fights, but in the end, someone had to win. I was glad to do the honors in overtime when Barracudas center Nick Johnson buried a slapshot from the blue line.

It was no surprise when Holky ran his mouth, coming right to the edge of accusing me of cheating before grabbing me in an awkward hug. He slapped my back in an exaggerated hockey-dude style and congratulated me on the win. Then, predictably, he declared the outcome would’ve been different if we hadn’t had so many beers during the game.

I called bullshit, but he had a point—not about him winning, but about the drinks. I glanced around and counted six bottles, not enough to get either of us drunk, but plenty to have us feeling no pain.

He switched the TV to one of theFast & Furiousmovies, and we chatted as we watched. We didn’t talk about anything serious, mostly hockey. He told a few stories about road trip adventures, including going home with a puck bunny and all the things she wanted him to do to her. That part sounded forced, and we grew quiet.

Eventually, he asked, “You like this movie?”

“Love them all. Probably seen it ten times.”

“Mind if I mute it?”

I hadn’t expected that from someone who’d been waving his arms through the explosions like a symphony conductor. “No,” I said. “What’s up?”

He turned so he could see me. “Remember last night, when we said we’d have a pity party?”

“Yeah.”

“Want to do it now? I’ve felt like a jerk since we said all that outside, especially my joke about having a wild night next time. If we tell our stories, we won’t have to bullshit so much.”

“Okay, but I might need another beer.”

He pulled his phone out of his pocket. “You get the beers, and I’ll order the pizza.”

Holky learned the delivery would take ninety minutes—longer than we expected—but he swore it would be worth the wait. We ended up on the couch, sitting across from each other, peeling labels off our bottles and not saying much.

I wasn’t nervous about telling my story. A few people already knew, and I wasn’t the one who’d screwed up. Although I’d felt like an idiot for a while, I got over it. When you’re with someone, you’re supposed to trust them. That isn’t naïve; it’s the damn point.

But Iwasa little nervous about hearing Holky’s story. The way he’d brought it up in the car last night, and how his hand had trembled when he asked if we could talk tonight, made me believe it was serious. Nana always said I had a high empathy quotient. I didn’t know if that was true, but I couldn’t stand seeing people I cared about in pain. If he told me something bad had happened, there was a good chance I’d get pissed on his behalf.

“Want me to go first?” I asked. If I got my story out of the way before he told his, I’d probably make more sense.

“Sure.” He set his bottle on a side table. “Go for it.”

I took a long pull from my beer and then stared at the label. “It’s a sad story, but I’m not the only one it’s happened to. Bottom line, I was with a girl named Bailey back in Syracuse. We dated for over a year, and I thought she was it—fun, easy to be around, made me laugh. I loved her. We were exclusive, and I started to think long-term. I came up with a plan: we’d take a summer road trip to the Grand Canyon, and if we survived that kind of togetherness and were still in love, I’d ask her to marry me.”

Holky shook his head. “Man, I can already tell this isn’t good. What did she do?”

“If it had only been her, it wouldn’t have hit me so hard. It was last spring, when the playoffs were starting. I’d gone to Nana’s for a quick visit, but Bailey had to stay in Syracuse for work. We had a game the night I got back, and afterward, she said she didn’t feel like going out. She wanted to talk instead. I took her home, and that’s when she told me that while I was at Nana’s, she’d gone out with my two best friends from the team. They ended up back at the apartment I shared with one of the guys for more drinks.”

“Dog, please tell me this isn’t what I think it is.”

I chugged the rest of my beer and set the bottle down. “She screwed them both, a big old-fashioned threesome. Two guys I thought had my back, and a woman who was supposed to love me.”

Holky sighed. “Fuck, Dog. I’m sorry.”

“She said it made her realize she didn’t love me and needed to have more fun before settling down.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“That was the last time I saw her. The next day, she quit her job and disappeared. Maybe I should’ve gone after her, but I was too?—”

“Gone after her? She wasn’t worth the gas to the city limits. What about those fucking guys?”

“They shrugged it off. ‘Sorry, dude. We were drunk. Didn’t mean for it to happen. We’re cool, though, right?’”

“Fuck.” Holky choked the word out, and his eyes got shiny. Maybe I wasn’t the only one with a high EQ.

---