The idea of being alone in a room with my father had been jarring me since the plan to move back to Stoneybrook. Since my mother passed away, it was very difficult - awkward at times - to have a simple conversation with him. Sometimes it felt as if I wasn't related to him at all.
"Do you want a coffee or tea?" I asked him as the kettle boiled. He didn't even look up from his paper, so I repeated myself.
"Listen, Logan," he grumbled. "If I want something, I'll get it myself. I know you don't wanna be here, so let's not act like this is some big family reunion, okay? I'm doing you a favour, here!"
"Sorry, I was just..."
"Yeah, you were just..." he cut me off. "Just don't, please! I'm trying to read about some real athletes now."
"Real athletes?" I felt my face redden from anger.
"Yeah, you know those guys who get paid by professional teams," he snapped back at me. "The ones you see on TV and people are excited to see?"
"Hey, it's not my fault I'm not one of them!" I shouted. "I was being scouted by six or seven different NFL teams, dad! I got a full scholarship to a really good university because of my athleticism!"
"And you fucked it up, didn't you, son?"
"It could happen to anybody."
"But it happened to you," my father sneered. He lifted his newspaper and held it in front of his face. "Big surprise."
I bolted out of the kitchen before I snapped. I'd already begun to get defensive, which I knew was because I agreed with him completely. What kind of athlete can't walk on a piece of ice? I didn't know what to do, so I got dressed and just walked.
I walked along all of the streets I remembered from when this town was my home. So many people had come in and out of the houses I passed, I no longer knew everyone on my street. When I was in high school, almost every house on my block was home to a friend of mine, and now they were filled with strangers.
I ended up back at the high school, standing in the parking lot and staring at the football field. A gym class was out playing soccer, and I laughed softly. Just like Mr. Anderson to make everyone participate in an outdoor gym class in the middle of winter. I walked closer to the field, far enough to not be noticed by the students, and watched them play, reminiscing on my time at this school.
I was such a star in high school. I was the captain of the football team, and MVP of the baseball team the one year I played. I won a silver medal three years in a row during the regional track and field tournament. I was friends with everyone. Mary Anne and I were dating and happy as clams.
Mary Anne.
I realized how much things had changed. Mary Anne was a completely different person from the lovely girl I knew in high school. She was the stuck up, conceited snob I'd avoided for years. I missed her beautiful, poetic intelligence and sensitivity. I missed the way she smiled after I complimented her, and looked at me as if I was the most important person in the world.
Last night was so different. She looked at me like a cousin she hasn't seen in years, someone who isn't very close but you remain civil - still kind - but your heart isn't there. The conversation is meaningless, it's fluff. It's like she had no idea who I was, just a face and a name. We weren't important to each other.
Well, I wasn't important to her.
This cemented my feelings of worthlessness. Not only had I disappointed myself in every way when it came to my career and school, but the one person I'd always been able to fall back on had disappeared. In high school, Mary Anne could always be counted on to take me back, give me the love and admiration I needed. However, she also knew how to take it away. If I wasn't sensitive enough, if I missed one too many dates, if I messed up in any way, I was out the door.
My thoughts were temporarily interrupted by the ringing of the school bell, I quickly continued down the street and made my way to Stoneybrook Mall, trying to find something to distract myself with. I wandered aimlessly through stores until I came upon a sporting goods shop. I stood in front of it for a few minutes before walking inside.
The store felt like a second home to me. I knew everything about all of the equipment, the clothing, and I wanted to use it all. Even if it wasn't on a professional team. I missed it badly. I felt incomplete.
The longing turned into pain. I rushed to leave the store, but accidentally knocked into someone, sending her things toppling to the floor. I stopped and helped her pick them up.
"I'm so sorry, I was just in a hurry and I had something on my mind, please forgive m-"
"Logan Bruno, is that you?" the woman asked.
I stood up and looked at her. It was Kristy Thomas. A completely different Kristy Thomas from the one I remembered. This Kristy Thomas was a knock-out, wearing make up, high heeled boots, and a tight, leather jacket. I couldn't believe my eyes.
"Long time, we should catch up if you have time!" Kristy smiled at me. Long time, indeed, I thought to myself. I agreed to have coffee with her, and helped her carry some of her things.