It's been a week since Casey iced me out of her life, but I still haven't gotten my shit together.
Coach is yelling at me. Again. Because I'm playing like shit. Again.
We almost lost last Saturday because I spent so much time in the penalty box. Thank God Michael had a good game. It would've been a huge upset, and Coach would be on my ass even more than he is now.
"God damn it Venturi," Coach is still yelling. "If you don't pull your head out of your ass, I'm benching you next weekend."
"Coach," Michael protests. He's a junior and a lot braver than I am. "Cut him some slack. There's a stomach bug going around."
"That would explain the sloppy shots but stomach bugs don't land you in the penalty box for half the game or make you check your teammates during a scrimmage," Coach glares at me. "If you've got anger issues you need to work out in your personal life, that's your problem. Keep it out of my rink."
He looks down at me. "I've been coaching college kids for almost twenty years now. I know girl problems when I see them. Figure out your "stomach bug" Derek, or I'm benching you."
I just nod. There's no use denying it, though I appreciate Michael's efforts. Now the whole team knows my play is being affected by a "girl problem". I would be mortified but I'm too busy being pissed off.
I never should've kissed her. It was obviously a huge mistake. It's Casey .
I can't believe I forgot, even for a second, that it's impossible. It has always been impossible.
I'm so fucking furious with myself, with her, with my parents. And there's nowhere to put my anger. Not even the rink.
Hockey got me through high school. I could manage the frustration, the helpless anger and incessant want when I had an outlet. But this is too much. Hockey requires focused aggression, and I'm exploding with it.
She just took me aback. Blushing and leaning in with giant eyes to kiss my cheek. My brain turned off. It was impossible not to kiss her. Like asking someone who's been drowning for years to ignore a lifeboat.
I let it get completely out of hand, practically mauled her, and now she won't even speak to me.
I've thought about it before. What would happen if I kissed her. I've imagined a million scenarios. Most of them involve her slapping me, or telling Nora and Dad, or just generally getting huffy about it. I've imagined her pretending it never happened with that false brittle smile she puts on. Or yelling at me, in my face screaming. I could picture her immediately finding some other guy to make out with, and throwing it in my face. I considered the possibility of her sitting me down seriously to talk about how it's wrong, and it can't happen, and she doesn't like me like that.
I never imagined she'd just cut me out. One kiss, okay maybe slightly more than a kiss, but one transgression, and I'm out. No second chances. No opportunity to lie and say it didn't mean anything. No chance to say it was a mistake and I'm fucking sorry and can we just pretend it never happened.
So I'm pissed off. I have the horrible suspicion that if I let myself stop being mad, I might start crying.
I convince Jack to start pregaming with me immediately after practice. Jack is also a freshman and one of my housemates. He's mostly a bench warmer and kind of an asshole but he's at least always willing to get drunk.
We work our way through half a liter of vodka, and walk down the block to the party together, only stumbling a little.
"Geez Derek," Michael finds me as soon as we get there. "How drunk are you? Slow down."
I shrug. "I'm fine," I say. And I am, mostly. I've been drunker. "Why?"
"Cus your stomach bug is here," he says.
I'm obviously drunker than I realized because Jack gets it before I do. "Who is it?" He asks. "What does she look like?"
And I realize that Casey is here. Fuck.
It doesn't really surprise me that Michael figured it out even though I've never talked about her. He's smarter than he looks.
I consider just going back home but it occurs to me that I didn't invite her. She came on her own. Knowing I'd be here.
Maybe the ice is thawing.
I wander around the party, pretending that I'm not looking for her, so it surprises me a little when I hear her call my name.
She's standing near the table she danced on last time. It feels like a million years ago now. Her hair is long and down and some of it's gotten in her face and she's chewing on her lip, looking at me with wide scared eyes. The want slams into me as always, but this time its flavored with anger.
I thought I was mostly mad at myself, but the second I see her, I realize I'm pretty damn mad at her too.
"Well, well, well," I manage to say casually. "Look who finally decided to insert themselves back into my life. Nice to see you, Princess." It doesn't come out like an endearment. It doesn't even come out sarcastic, like I intended it to. It comes out hard and mean and I want to take it back but I can't because I feel hard and mean and it hurts to look at her chewing on her god damn lip.
"Derek," she says hesitantly. And it's not aggravated or overly perky, or condescending, or any of the normal Casey tones. It's scared and hesitant and I hate it.
"What are you doing here?" I ask. It comes out like an accusation.
Her face is frozen with shocked hurt, like it never occurred to her that I wouldn't be waiting eagerly like some neglected pet for her to deign to speak to me again.
"I… I don't know," she says. "I'm sorry!"
"Hey there," Jack comes out of nowhere with an extra drink and hands it to her. "I'm Jack. Are you a friend of Derek's?"
Is he fucking kidding me right now? Can he not see we're having a private conversation?
Coach's screaming at me was not discreet and word must've got around that Casey is my "stomach bug", because a lot of the guys from the team are looking this way.
"Er, hi," she says. "I'm Casey."
"Casey," he smiles at her and steps close to her, ignoring me. Why won't he get lost? How clueless is he? "Is D treating you all right? Cus if not, there are other fish in the sea," he grins at her. My brain is moving in slow motion because it's not until he follows this up with a wink that I realize he's hitting on her. In front of me.
The balls of it is almost enough to make me laugh until she gives him a little smile, and I see red.
"Back off," I grab him roughly by the collar and pull him away from her.
Michael is there all of a sudden. "Dude," he says to Jack. "Do you have a death wish? Stop stirring shit up."
"What's going on?" Casey cuts in.
Jack laughs. "Just wanted to meet the girl who might actually get me a starting spot on the team. Derek's game is shit because of you."
"Shut the fuck up," My fist comes up and I'm not even really sure how it happens but I punch him in the stomach.
He folds in half, coughing and wheezing and it's infinitely satisfying until Michael slaps the back of my head.
"Get it together you idiot. He's just being an asshole like always."
"What the hell Derek!" Casey yells. "You can't just go around punching people! What is your problem?"
I turn to her incredulously, because she's really asking. She really wants to know what my problem is. As though kissing me back and then ignoring me for a week isn't enough to explain how fucking angry I am. As though that isn't enough to destroy me.
She glares at me and I want to grab her and kiss her or maybe walk away and not talk to her for a week. I'm about to answer her, about to just tell her my problem is her, when I realize her eyes are filled with tears.
She covers her face with her hands and turns away. She's making this gasping sound and fuck fuck fuck. Don't cry.
"Casey," I say hesitantly. She lets out a sob at the sound of my voice, and takes off running towards the door.
I don't think. I forget about Jack and Michael and everyone else and I run after her.
"Casey!" I catch up to her just outside the door, on Michael's porch.
"Casey, please," I say, catching her and wrapping my arms around her. She's sobbing against my chest and she doesn't push me away. Her arms wrap around me and pull me tighter and I would do anything to keep her here.
"I'm sorry I'm so sorry," I say. I don't even know what I'm apologizing for. For being an asshole. For kissing her. For getting angry about it. For wanting her so badly in the first place.
"I miss you," my idiot drunken brain is not filtering anything. "Don't shut me out," I beg. "What can I do? I'll do whatever you want," I whisper. "I'll pretend it never happened. I'll… fuck. Please." Am I really begging right now? I would feel pathetic but I just can't bring myself to care. I don't know what I'll do if she ices me out again.
She looks up at me with huge, tear filled eyes. She's stopped sobbing and her face is a little splotchy and swollen but she's so beautiful it hurts. "What do you want Casey?" I whisper. "Whatever you want, I'll do."
I think I'm braced for anything. I know her well enough to know that she always manages to surprise me. Im ready for a slap, or a sigh, or reluctant forgiveness.
It blindsides me completely when she pulls my face down to hers and kisses me.