I was too busy celebrating a well-earned goal to notice that there was a knock on the door. Apparently my mom let whoever it was in, because all of a sudden she was leading Michelle through the embarrasingly cluttered living room. Where I was also sitting on the couch watching hockey with a pack of ice on my balls.
I reached quickly to get a blanket but her eyes suddenly went down, and her eyes widened. Great, that's just what I need. Michelle in my living room looking down... there. I abandoned all attempts at making this situation run smoothly and just got up and walked over to her standing awkardly behind the couch with my mom.
"Uhh... hi." I said somewhat awkwardly. There was nothing good about this situation other than that she was in my house after so many years...
"Hey, Matt." She smiled at me, somewhat embarrased about the fact that she had walked in on me like that. My mom should've known better.
"So, eh, why are you here?" I asked, my mom standing next to us and enjoying our awkwardness.
"I just wanted to... uhhh..." She looked down, possibly at a place the sun doesn't shine. Maybe some good did come out of that.
"She wanted some sugar. She's making cookies." My mom explained to me, crossing the rest of the length of the carpeted living room and into the kitchen.
"Right." Michelle breathed. My mind was completely blank except for one thought:
Oh my God, she's in my house. Oh my God, she's in my house. Oh my God, she's in my house. Over and over again.
"How was hockey practice, Matt?" She asked, trying to talk to me. I didn't know she even remembered my name, let alone that I had hockey practice tonight.
"It was great." I replied lamely. She looked down again.
"How did... how did that happen?" She gestured to cuts on my face.
"Got into a fight. No big deal." I said. Michelle paled.
"Please don't get into fights, Matt. Hockey is so dangerous." I just shrugged, but secretely I was ecstatic she didn't like me getting into fights and knew enough about hockey to know it was dangerous.
Of course she does, idiot. She used to play with you all the time. I told myself.
But that was years ago.
"You're lying to me, Matt." She whispered, moving closer to me.
"And you're driving me crazy." I whispered back. I don't know why we were whispering.
Of course, my first moment with Michelle in years and my mom just had to come in and ruin it. And on that note, why is Michelle suddenly talking to me? She never really took notice of me until she came over here just now to borrow our sugar.
"Did I interrupt something?" My mom asked innocently.
"No, not at all." I lied, trying to disguise my bitterness. My mom handed the sugar to a not-so-subtle Michelle, who was blushing. But why the hell did that conversation go the way it did. I thought she barely remembered my existence.
I mean, of course she knows me. We're practically neighbors and she used to go out on the pond and play hockey with me all the time. But that was when we were six. Maybe not even six.
"'Bye, Matt." She smiled at me before she walked out the door and my mom shut it very tightly behind her. I had forgotten all about Caleb kicking me in the crotch earlier, as well as the hockey game that was blaring in the living room.
Standing in the entry way with my mom staring at me; something had changed. Somehow, by some crazy way of God's good will towards a beat up hockey captain, Michelle had come to my house, and talked to me. I felt like I was dreaming. This hasn't happened since that one day so many winters ago...