The lake is quiet and peaceful. I love this time of day, before everyone is awake and I can just sit here with Sam and fish. Everyone should have a dog to keep them company. I miss her when I'm in season and she stays with my folks but it's great to have her with me in the summer. They've let me start doing light workouts again. Dr. Carrick seems to know what he's talking about. It's a crazy machine they put me in, like I'm training for the space shuttle, but I immediately feel better when I come out. I don't care how it works, I'm just glad to be doing something, anything to get my head better. If only I could do something about my heart. Oh God, did I really just think that? The guys would rag me forever if they knew.
It's been 3 weeks and I can't stop thinking about her. I waited for 2 hours for her before I went to the apartment Angelia was staying in with her sister. I fumbled through French to learn from a neighbour that the jolies filles had left that morning. She left without saying goodbye or leaving a note. Nothing. After everything we shared, everything I told her, I still can't believe she just left. It's like I imagined the connection we had, like I imagined her. The guys thought I'd gone crazy. Max finally cornered me to find out what the fuck was going on. I was being an ass, moody and snapping at everyone, even more than the usual since I got hit. If it was anyone but Max, I would have told them to fuck off but I you just can't do that to Talbo. He's the life of the party and the jokester but he is a good friend and knows when something is wrong. On the flight home I couldn't avoid him anymore and I told him all about her. Of course I left out some details, but he got the point. By the time we landed in Toronto, he'd told the other guys and they work out a plan to find her. Paulie's agent found us the party so he could find us the sister. How hard is it to locate a supermodel, he said?
We all went our separate ways at the airport, everyone had different connections to make and I haven't talked to anyone since. Ok, if I'm being honest, I've ignored everyone since. Fuck her! If she doesn't want me then I don't want her. Of course I can't do anything but want her. My dreams have become more and more vivid, they wake me up in the middle of the night, so hard I have to jerk off just to go back to sleep. Usually I'd work out, preferably running which I hate, when I have a problem that's bugging me. Unfortunately, 'light work outs' means bike and a low heart rate. How's a guy supposed to work up a sweat that way?
"Ok Creature, you won't answer your phone, you won't return my texts, so the mountain has come to you mon ami! Get your ass up here!" I know that voice. Only Max would show up on your door step and yell like that of course. Resigned, I pack up the fishing gear and Sam and I make our way up to the house. "How did you even get in here?" I ask when I reach him. "Jumped the gate" he responds and gives me a bear hug. I can't help but smile – Max always seems to be able to do that for me. "Grab your stuff Talbo, let's go inside, I'm hungry anyway." We go into the kitchen and I grab a yogurt from the fridge. I start eating and just stare at Max, I know he needs to get it out or he'll explode.
"We found her!" he says. I just keep staring at him. "Angelia, we found her. Paulie went through her agent who tried to contact the sister's agent. Anyway, long and convoluted story but we found her, or them actually. The sister is going to be in some really important fashion show and Angelia is going to be there. New York City man, it's just a plane ride away. Get your stuff and let's go." He's just staring at me now with a huge shit eating grin on his face. I don't know what he expects. Why would I get excited to see a girl that doesn't want to see me? A girl who deliberately left the country instead of seeing me again and he just expects me to jump on a plane? Fuck that idea. "No way Talbo. Why do you think I've been ignoring your calls?" He smacks me upside the head and says "because you're an idiot with your head up your ass?" "Hey" I shout "remember, concussion?"
"Ok" great now he's speaking slowly like I'm a child "let's talk about this rationally. When was the last time you were this hung up on a girl? Never, that's when. How often do you actually do something unpredictable and fun? Again, never, that's when. Sid, seriously, why not go and at least ask her what happened? Worst case, we have a lost weekend in New York. Best case, you get laid and finally put a smile on your fucking face." He has a point. Stewing here isn't helping me. In fact, mom keeps looking at me and shaking her head. She's even stopping by twice a day like she expects me to drown in the lake. "Ok" I finally say. "Let me pack and you book us a flight to New York."
I love New York City. It's fast and noisy. You can go to a noisy club one night and see a Monet the next. You can truly disappear in a crowd. This was a great idea. Coming here with Ri was the right thing to do. It will take my mind off of Cannes and him. Sitting through one fashion show shouldn't be so difficult for all of the fun we're having. Although she drives me crazy, Ri can always get me out of a funk and I know she loves me. This 'backstage' stuff is really interesting too. No one out front would know that there is absolute bedlam back here. This brings back memories of mom and I standing backstage and walking Mariah walk in her first shows. She was always so nervous but wouldn't let anyone see it. She always stomped it like a pro – or so mom always said. I have to admit, the clothes are gorgeous and the event is for charity. Those who say Ri is a diva would change their minds if they knew how much charity work she does. As I look at the monitor, I can see her walking the runway to a huge applause. Her smile is huge; she loves this and is so good at it.
The show ends on Ri's last outfit and the designer takes his bow with her. Ri comes of stage and gives me a hug, like we always do when I'm at the show. "You were great" I tell her. "Of course I was" she laughs and says back to me. I laugh too of course. "Do I really have to go to this party too" I wince as I hear the whine in my voice but I really don't want to go. "Nah" she tells me, "go back to the hotel if you want." I'm stunned "really?" I ask her. "Yeah, I'm going to be working and making sure I'm 'being seen' so you might as well relax for both of us. Order dinner and have a soak in that big tub." I'm not going to argue with her so I gather up my stuff, give her a kiss and leave before she can change her mind.
Finding a cab outside is murder. Too many people looking for too many cabs so I decide to walk to the next block. I turn around and all thoughts leave my head. It can't be true. I'm see things. It can't be him. As he walks up to me, I know it is and I can't think of anything to say. "Hi" is all he says to me. I look into his eyes and everything else is gone. The time since I left Cannes, the people around us, the noise of the city; everything disappears. I can't help myself so I rush forward, throw my arms around him and put everything I have into kissing him.
She looks gorgeous. That's the only thing I can think when I see her on the sidewalk. I force myself to move toward her and say "hi." Not original but it's all I can get out. She just stares at me with her eyes wide in shock. Next thing I know, she's launched herself at me and is kissing me, hard, like she's missed me as much as I've missed her. I feel every inch of her body against mine. I remember every moment we were together. Suddenly I hear applause break out around us and I remember that we're on a very busy street. We both look around us sheepishly and I can see her face turning red with embarrassment. "Hi" she says softly "want to go somewhere and talk." "That's a good idea" I respond. As we begin to walk, she says "there's a pub around the corner that's usually quiet on a week night." I just nod.
We enter and find a quiet table in the back. Both of us order a draft and then just sit there looking at each other – reality has set in on us both. When our beers come, we just keep staring at each other, saying nothing. I can't stand it anymore and simply say "why?" She takes a sip of her beer and a deep breath. Finally she says "it's really hard to explain." "Try" I insist. "I've never met anyone like you before" she begins. "I've never been like that before. It was so out of character for me, I mean, we had just met and I, we, I don't know." She looks up at me and something seems to dawn on her. "What are you doing in New York Sidney?" Now it's my turn to sip my beer. How do I want to answer that question? My pride has taken a shit kicking with this woman. There is no way I'm confessing to following her to New York. "Max has a 'thing' for models" I tell her. "He thought coming to this event was a good idea. I think the NHL is a sponsor or something" I lie to her, praying she doesn't call me on it. "Oh" she says and actually sounds disappointed. What the fuck? I really need answers. "Angelia, you haven't really told me why you left. No note, no nothing. You could have at least left me a message."
"I was scared, ok?!" she practically yells at me. It's loud in here so at least no one but me hears her. "Scared of what" I ask her although I think I know. I think I felt, well feel, the same way. She looks at me almost pleading me to understand. "It all happened so fast, instant connection, instant attraction, instant everything. That kind of thing doesn't happen to me and what was going to happen next, huh? Have some fun over the summer until I went back to school and you went back to Pittsburgh for the new season? Were we going to date and have a relationship? That was definitely never going to happen." That last comment snaps my head up. "Why do you think a relationship wasn't going to happen" I demand. "Sidney, you seriously expect me to believe that wanted to see me after Cannes? That it wasn't just a vacation fling or summer thing? That an all start athlete with hundreds of thousands of websites about him would ever want more with me? I bet you even have someone here in New York you would be with tonight if we hadn't run into each other by chance. Puck fucks, isn't that you guys call us?"
I can't believe she's saying these things to me. I thought we had a connection. I told her things I've never told anyone, poured out my soul basically, and now she's just treating it like nothing; actually, less than nothing. How could I have misjudged her so badly? How could I have felt so much for this girl who seems to think so little about me? This is insane. I guess I really did just idealize our time together in Cannes. Coming to New York was a bad idea, time to cut my losses, so I pull out some cash to pay for the beer and get up from the table. "I guess we have nothing to talk about" I tell her and leave. I guess they call this closure; but, I don't know that I'll ever be able to forget her.
