Page 15 of Nodus Tollens
“Yeah, you’re fine? Then why the fuck are you runnin’ off in such a hurry?”
Was I running? All I knew was that my mind was set on getting off that stage, and if I did run, I didn’t realize it.
“I’m just not in the mood for whatever the hell that was on stage or anything else that’ll go on tonight.” I admitted. Then taking my palm, I raked my fingers through my hair and lightly pulled on the strands in the back. “I mean, is it just me, or aren’t you tired of living life like that?” I used my other hand and nonchalantly waved my hand in the direction of the stage.
“Like what?”
Like life is revolved around hockey and pussy.
“Like there isn’t more to life than this.”
To him, it must have been like whiplash listening to me talk like this. When only a couple years ago, I was consumed with the sport. He would know because it was our main topic every day. Hockey in the morning. Hockey in the afternoon. Hockey at night. It was a vicious cycle that I never thought would end or grow tired of.
Until now.
Mal couldn’t have looked more confused. Even a flash of hurt crossed his features as he tried to read me. “Obviously, there’s more to life than just hockey. I think we all get that, some more than others. But hockey’s all I got right now. It’s all I want to think about because when it’s over, what’s next for me? I’m sure as fuck not going pro.”
Mal going pro. It’s amazing to hear how little he thought of himself as a player, when everyone else saw him as one of the best. He wasn’t applauded like cap, or admired like Hendricks, but to me, he had the best form of support from the fans who respected the hell out of him. They appreciated his game, and recklessness. He had my back out on the ice and took the beatings and constants hits. No one brought chaos like he did. He was a force to be reckoned with as one of the biggest guys out there on the ice, and if that didn’t make the man pro worthy, I don’t know what did.
“Is that what you want in life? To go pro?” I questioned. His mouth opened a sliver as if to answer, but he quickly closed it before anything came out.
I waited and waited while he clenched and unclenched his jaw in concentration. I honestly didn’t expect to wait this long for an answer, but I was clearly surprised.
“What I want in life is to prove everyone wrong, and if going pro is what’s next for me, then I’ll gladly invalidate every fucker out there.”
Nodding, I could firmly say he’d already succeeded in that. Haters would always be out there. It was inevitable, but knocking down the ones who were supposed to be programed to love you was on a whole other level of a win. Though, he felt like he needed to prove them more wrong, in my eyes, he already had.
“What’s up with all these deep talks lately anyway?” Mal grunted as he fidgeted in his shoes, clearly uncomfortable with where our conversation was headed. “I’m starting to think you like torturing me with em’.” He mumbled.
“Nah.” I forced a smile. “I’m just…confused.”
I didn’t know if that was the right word for all that I was feeling, but at the moment, it fit.
“About what?”
“Everything.” I confessed.
We fell into a silence that spoke volumes about who we were as people. Mal wasn’t good with his emotions, so of course, he didn’t know how to respond to mine. I could sense his own confusion, and perhaps even worry, in the harsh stare that never wavered even a second from mine. Though no words were exchanged, he didn’t have to speak for me to know what he was thinking. I saw it in his eyes. I saw it in the way he gnawed at the side of his cheek and rasped his fingers against his leg. The words he didn’t say were filled with more emotion then the spoken ones.
“I think I’m gonna head back to the house.” I announced with a drop of my shoulders and a short glance behind Mal. The night was still young, and no doubt everyone on the team would be out later than normal, but I had zero intentions of doing the same. Anything sounded better than that. Watching Desperate Housewives with my mother sounded better than that. In all honesty, everyone would be too fucked up to even realize I wasn’t there.
“Alright, let me grab my shit.” Mall nodded behind him, but I intervened.
“No. I just, I really need to be alone right now.” I sighed, knowing I probably sliced a fatal wound down the center of his heart. “You stay. Enjoy yourself a bit.” I tried to soften the blow, but I could already sense his apprehension.
“If I stay, you’ll tell me what the fuck is going on with you, yeah?” He demanded while lifting the ball cap off his head and using his hand to smooth back his black mane. Any humor, confusion, or anything at all that was once present had all vanished, and in its place was seriousness.
“Fine.” I reluctantly agreed and slowly turned to walk away. After taking a few steps, Mal interrupts my escape.
“You might need this if you’re going to walk through that crowd.” Tossing a hoodie in my direction, I swiftly snatched it in the air and nodded.
“Thanks.”
Then with a somber smile, I spun around and braced myself for the throng of fans.
* * *
It’s almost impossible to leave anywhere unnoticed or unrecognized by anyone. Even covered head to toe, there was always at least that one person who’d figure you out and alert the rest. It’s the name of the game, though, when you play for one of the top teams in the league. We weren’t prominent by any means, especially being a college team, but you’d be surprised how renowned hockey was around here. It was like a rite of passage to attend our games. We had fans of all sorts. Old, young, business guys, blue-collar types, you name it. That’s what I loved about the sport; it was for everyone. People craved the adrenaline, and every second of watching that ice was as nail-biting as it was entertaining. But to be the best, you had to sacrifice a lot of yourself and your privacy. Especially now, as I weaved in and out of the crowds, I tried to appear as aloof as possible. A dark sweatshirt was thrown over my jersey, and now my hood had been draped over my head. I seldom had let my eyes wander from watching my feet, but the few seconds I did peer up, I met the eyes of the infamous Jesse Martin. Defensive lineman for our school’s football team, he was known as a wildcard. With a boisterous presence and an even louder personality, he became a fan favorite, and even now, off the field, he was surrounded by a group of people. Built like Mal, he towered over everyone.
