Page 98 of Keeping the Score

Then Pete starts shooting pucks at us, so the patterns become real as we try to stop the frozen rubber from getting past us.

I’m sweaty and pleasantly tired by the end of practice and Bender and I joke around as we skate off. “You must have taped your ankles up good today, Bender,” I say. “They weren’t even collapsing.” His nickname comes from his name, Bendik, but it’s also a derogatory name for someone who thinks they can skate but can’t.

“Fuck you,” he says with a laugh. “I’ve heard better chirps from a dead bird.”

“Haha.”

We’re leaving shortly for the airport for a five-day road trip to Columbus, St. Louis, and Charlotte. This is the longest I’ve left Tilly (and Andi) and I’m feeling out of sorts about it. Lieve is working out fine and I totally trust Andi, so I don’t know why I’m bothered. I’ll need to stay focused on the trip. I’m starting tonight, but I don’t know how many of the games I’ll get to play. I hope it’s all three. Things are going better lately, but I still feel a need to prove myself.

We board the bus in business casual clothes for the half hour or so ride to the airport in Teterboro. I grab a seat next to Smitty who’s engrossed in his phone. Oh, shit. That reminds me…

I pull out my own phone to look at Willa’s message.

I stare at it. She’s back and she wants to talk.

What does that mean? She wants Tilly back? Well, obviously she does. Shit.

My gut tightens into a rock. I knew this was coming. I have to deal with it.

I text her back with numb fingers.

FORD

Just leaving on a road trip. I’ll be back Sunday morning. I can come see you then.

She agrees to that. I’m antsy. I wish I could go see her right now and get this done. How the hell am I going to play hockey over the next five days with this hanging over my head?

I glance over at Smitty’s phone and see an image of a woman, so I lean closer. “Oh, man… is that Nikki Sullivan?”

He jumps. “Uh. Yeah.”

“I thought you were over her. What about Bristol?”

“It was just a casual thing.”

“That’s hot.” The singer is posed in a skimpy silver-sequined outfit.

He closes Instagram and scowls.

“So you’re still obsessed with Nikki. Still stalking her.”

“I’m not stalking her.”

I laugh. “Yeah, you are. Online.”

He growls.

“You’re really hung up on her.”

“No, I’m not.” He opens a game app and starts playing.

Okay. Fine.

For the rest of the bus ride I contemplate the things I’ll say to Willa and what she might say to me. This is supposed to prepare me and ease my anxiety but instead only reinforces how much this is beyond my control. And I fucking hate that.

When we get to the hotel in Columbus, I sit on the bed in my room and send another text, this time to Andi.

FORD

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