Page 90 of Love Lessons
“Of course I do.”
“Let me ask you this—have you ever gotten hurt by another player in a game?”
“Yeah, but that’s different. I’ve been punched. I’ve even broken a bone. But I’ve never been hurt so bad as I hurt that kid.”
“Why do you think it happened like that?”
I take a deep drink of my soda to stall for time. The man has only been in my apartment for five minutes, and he’s found the thing that I least want to talk about. “I don’t really know what happened. I have relived that moment so many times.”
“Try,” he says quietly. “What do you remember about that night?”
“Well, the kid skates up to me…”
“No, before that. What kind of a night were you having? Was this a home game?”
“Yeah. It wasn’t really a special day. I went to morning skate. Came home. Went through the mail…” I stall out.
“The mail,” he prompts. “And?”
I sigh, because I know he’s gonna make a big thing of this. “There was a wedding invitation. My ex is marrying my second cousin. I don’t really want to go to the wedding. But we broke up a few years ago. It’s not exactly a big deal.”
“And why did the two of you break up?”
“Um…” I let out a strained chuckle. “She grew out of me. Thought the whole tough-guy thing was attractive in high school, I guess. But then she decided she wanted a slick guy. The kind of guy who looks good in a suit, standing at a podium or working the room. And in the end, she chose my second cousin.” I shrug.
“Did that make you mad?”
“Well, sure. But like I said, this all went down years ago. Having to go to the wedding is just sort of, as they say, insult to injury.”
He nods. “And later that night—after you opened this invitation—you gave somebody a real injury.”
“You know I did.”
“Tell me about the fight. Did you know you were going to fight this guy? Did you prep for it?”
“No way.” I snort. “I watched some video of that team’s veteran enforcer. But I’d never seen this rookie before. No idea why he took the fight. I’ve been asking myself that ever since.”
“He just comes up to you out of the blue and throws down his gloves?”
I try to think. “We’d just drawn a penalty against their guy. So it wasn’t completely unmotivated.”
“Who drew the penalty?” the doctor asks.
“Um…” I search my memory and come up blank. “I forget. Sorry. It wasn’t a big deal. Just a Thursday night in hockey, you know?”
He nods. “Go on.”
“Yeah, so…” I feel a tightness in my chest, and the words don’t come as easily as they should. “He comes up to me at the end of the second period. He says something kind of obnoxious to me. I ask if he’s challenging me to a fight. He throws down his gloves. And the crowd starts doing their thing. Yelling. Whistling.”
“What does that feel like?” the doc asks. “When the crowd starts up?”
My face feels hot all of a sudden. It’s like I’m there hearing the fans snarl. “They sound angry. Always. It’s a rush, knowing I have everybody’s attention. I always feel really… alive. Even though I’m also kind of nervous I might lose. But not because I’m afraid of the pain.”
“No? The pain would matter a great deal tome.”
I shake my head, my throat dry. I still feel hot and strange. “It’s the dread. The moment when you realize you’re the one who’s gonna end up on the ground. That span of time is short, but it’s the worst feeling in the world.”
“You didn’t end up on the ground this time, did you?”
