Page 35 of Off Side

DREW

I’ve filled my day with labour around the farm hoping I could fall asleep easily, but by nine P.M. I wasn’t close to being tired and I knew Sam wouldn’t be calling me until at least eleven, if she called at all. They encountered construction on the way and were already an hour late arriving at their first hotel. I decide to head down to The Trash Can and spend time with people, or at least chat with the bartender and then head home.

I find the bar surprisingly busy. I slide onto a vacant stool and wait for the bartender to notice me. When he sees me, he nods his head and delivers my usual whiskey sour.

“Starting a tab tonight, Drew, or just the one?”

I take out my wallet to pay. “I’m driving tonight, so I think just the one.” I hand him the bill, telling him to keep the change.

I find myself watching all the people in the bar. The young teenagers heading off to university are getting rowdy. There are a few couples at various tables having dinner and drinks. The few singles at the bar like myself are nursing their beers and watching whatever is on the TV. I feel someone take the stool next to me and see a familiar head of red hair. I inwardly groan.

“Hi, Drew. What brings you out to the bar tonight? Feeling lonely again?”

Becky is actually a pretty girl underneath all the make up. But her social skills are greatly lacking. Not to mention her willingness to put out at the drop of a hat.

I sigh. “Just wanted to be with some people for a while. Sam is on a road trip with the team.” I thought maybe I should try the polite approach tonight since it seemed to be and innocent question. I could try not to be an asshole for once.

“When the mouse is away the cat will play? Or something like that, right? Do you think they have a bed on the bus? Or do they just take turns at the hotel when they arrive? Surely, she’s not going to bed by herself. That woman invites disaster her way.” She licks her lips and winks at me, she fucking winks with her mascara caked eye. Forgetting my attempt to be polite, I slam my glass down a bit too hard, making the liquor slosh onto my hand.

“I was going to try to have polite conversation with you. I was going to try to be a decent human being and maybe, just maybe, see if we could have a normal polite interaction like two adults do. But then you go and open your mouth and spew this shit about someone you don’t even know! What the hell is your problem? Were you dropped on your head as a child? How the hell do you get through life being like this? I’m a fucking therapist for fucks sake and I can’t for the life of me figure out what your angle is. What is it you want, Becky?” I’m literally growling at her I’m so damn angry. I’ve had enough of her bullshit. Nobody talks about Sam that way.

Her eyes swell to the size of saucers as she stares at me after my outburst. Pretty sure I’d have fire coming out of my nose if I was a dragon. She opens and closes her mouth like she’s struggling to find something to say. In frustration I stand up to leave because I didn’t come here for this. Her hand appears on my arm and almost too quiet for me to hear she says, “I’m sorry.”

I lower myself back to the stool, clenching my jaw closed waiting for more.

“I…don’t know how to make friends, Drew. You might be right about being dropped on my head, but I never had parents to ask, so I don’t know. I’m sorry. I know that was a rude thing for me to say. Can we try what you said, maybe? Have a normal adult conversation?”

She forces a weak smile and for once I see a vulnerability there, I’ve never noticed before. She always presents as confident, and while a little slutty, she’s never made me feel like I should cut her some slack. But maybe I’m wrong.

I watch the TV as a commercial for Doritos plays while she orders a vodka and cranberry. Deciding to go the adult route I ask, “So, what brings you out tonight, Becky?”

“Ah, like you I guess just a bit lonely. Thought I should hang with some people instead of pets for once.” She gives a little shrug like its no big deal and inspects her drink.

“Do you live alone?” I ask and I’m not even sure why but, hey look at me adulting I guess.

“Yes, just me. Been that way for a real long time.” She clears her throat and glances at me again.

“What about you? I mean, you live with Sam obviously, but before that? Were you alone?”

“For the most part, yes, for a long time. Like you.”

She’s nodding like a bobble head and takes a drink, but fails to look my way.

“Drew, I’m really sorry about those things I said. I know Sam is a good person. I’ve seen her around the rink and how she is with the players and you. I know she’s not like that. I was just…I don’t know, I guess jealous she has everything she could want and I never will. It’s my coping mechanism, I guess. Please don’t hold it against me.”

Becky continues to stare into her drink like it holds the answers to all her problems, a single tear escapes down her cheek before she quickly wipes it away. I feel extremely bad for how I’ve treated her the last few years. I’ve made a lot of assumptions about her that are now obviously off base.

“All is forgiven, Becky. Just don’t say shit like that to me or anyone else about Sam. Do you, uh, need to talk to someone? Professionally, I mean?”

She turns her big sad make-up caked eyes to me and I can clearly see her broken soul there. I feel more guilt for having been so mean to her before.

“Could it be you, Drew? I don’t know if I want to talk to anyone else. You’re the nicest person I’ve ever really known.”

I snort. “I’ve been nothing but an asshole towards you, and you think I’m nice?”

“In the scheme of how others have treated me, you were, yes. Can I…meet with you sometime?”

I pull out my wallet, finding one of my cards with my contact info on it and hand it to her. “For the record, Becky, I’m sorry for how I treated you the past few years. I should never have allowed myself to do that. Here’s my info to reach me. I’ve been using a room at the rink to meet with players. I’m in limbo for an office right now, but give me a call and we can try to find a neutral place to meet.”

I finish my drink, telling Becky to call me as I look at the TV one more time before I go. They’re talking about the upcoming game between the Bandits and Bulldogs so I pause to listen and see if they mention Sam and any of the good things she’s done with the team.

They don’t say anything good. I’m frozen in place as I helplessly watch them interview the last person I thought I’d ever see again.

Jason, fucking, Lawless.

He’s going to be in the same building as Sam.

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