"We were good...
Julie jumped, half startled.
.
For the last ten minutes, she'd been staring at the trophy case, lost in thought as she looked back at the younger version of herself. It was all right there in a wooden frame; her blonde ponytail sticking out amongst the rows of clean-cut boys.
A moment of her life, forever encased in amber. Enshrined in a place that prided itself on never changing.
.
Looking over at Adam, she smiled.
"Crap. Sorry."
"Nothing to apologize for."
"So what are you doing?"
"Nothing. Just..."
Adam gave a rueful laugh as he glanced over at the section of wall nearby, a 16x24 inch rectangle still a shade darker than the area surrounding it.
"Remembering when life still held possibilities that weren't awful?"
Cheap fuckers will pay to get their list of old captains re-done, but can't shell out the money to repaint the wall...
"That's an uplifting take."
"Don't worry." He assured Julie, reaching over for her hand as he thought of the plaque that had been beside the door, commemorating a better version of him. "Unlike a certain somebody, you still have plenty of non-awful possibilities ahead of you."
"Depends on what day you ask."
"Oh Dr. Kitty..." He shook his head, giving her hand a squeeze as he looked back over at that picture in the trophy case; his arm around her as they stood beside the 1999 championship banner, their bodies still taut and their eyes still sparkling at the thought of their futures. "You never give yourself enough credit. The world is still yours. You just have to find what you want."
"What if what I want doesn't exist?"
"Then order someone to make it for you."
She leaned against his shoulder, her fingers still entwined with his.
"I don't think they sell happiness on like, Etsy." She reminded him, taking in a deep breath of his familiar cologne.
"They really should.
"So what do you need to be happy? I'll totally buy it for you for your birthday or whatever. Assuming it's like, under a couple hundred dollars. Otherwise, I'll probably need a while to save up for it, because I'm broke as shit..."
"Dork."
"I don't know." He squeezed her hand again, holding her as close as he could. "If anybody deserves to be happy, it's you, Julie."
"Well thanks."
"Seriously. You're like one of the best people I know."
"You're pretty great, yourself."
"I do my best..."
June, 2002
"Okay, seriously, I really do think Minnesota has this beat."
Julie shook her head as Adam browsed a rack of sweaters at the 5th Avenue Abercrombie, a taxidermy moose staring down from above.
"That is so wrong..."
"Like, okay, yeah, this is cooler." He conceded, pausing at a navy crewneck. "But for practicality? Everything in Southdale is air-conditioned. They have a food court. You can get khakis, a haircut, and a slice of pizza within like, a twenty foot span. There will probably even be a guy giving out teriyaki chicken samples somewhere nearby. To go with your pizza. Because Minnesota."
"You're just hungry, aren't you?"
"I mean, not really, but kind of." He shrugged. "Mostly, I feel like eating Sbarro's while looking at sweaters is one of life's greatest pleasures, and Manhattan is trying to deprive me of that."
"You were definitely the only person who did that."
"Scott did it a lot."
"Scott wore a shower curtain to The Minnesota Club."
"Yeah, I think he liked wearing shower curtains." Adam agreed, the moose still watching down over them as they spent a rainy afternoon browsing 5th Avenue.
.
Music thumped from the speakers nearby, muffling their conversation as tourists mulled over a 50 ft. shelf of logo hoodies. Outside, sheets of rain pounded the sidewalks, leaving every shopper who entered a bit more drenched than the last. Though the two had missed the worst of the downpour, Adam's rain jacket was dripping onto the floor while Julie bemoaned her soggy pant legs; the inescapable dampness almost too much to bear.
.
"You say that so nonchalantly."
"This is Scott we're talking about." He reminded her. "As far as personal quirks go, that one really isn't a big deal in the grand scheme of things..."
"True. I definitely wish that I could be like, six years ago Scott for a day. Not do any of the serious stuff. Just like, walk into fancy places wearing a shower curtain, and flirt with guys by telling them I'm Sarah Michelle Gellar, and generally do whatever stupid thing pops into my head."
"Exactly! There is definitely a reason he was my idol as a kid."
"He was?"
"Of course he was. Didn't you look up to your brothers?"
Julie shrugged.
"I mean, I guess I did, but I don't think they were really the same. Like, Shawn was just always kind of an idiot, even by little kid standards. And Jeff definitely had his shining moments of glory, but there wasn't really anything to identify with, if that makes sense."
"Yeah, totally." Adam paused, thinking for a moment as the re-circulated air hummed through the music. "Like, I feel like in your family, your parents were more a thing, and they were the people a kid would have paid attention to, because they were...good parents. They did parent stuff or whatever."
"Yeah, I'm not always sure if that was good or bad...
Julie glanced over at a rack of warm, dry sweatpants; longing to put them on for a break from her wet jeans.
"Like, I definitely think they held me to a different standard than my brothers, and now it's always 'Why is Jeff doing this?' or 'Why is Shawn doing that?', and I just want to point out to them that anyone would think it was fun to work at the bowling alley and smoke pot all day if they had someone else taking care of everything for them. But yeah. No way my mom is listening to that. Or my dad, for that matter."
"I'm sorry."
"Meh, I mean, it's not the end of the world." She shrugged. "And I guess I'm glad that they don't let me coast by like that. I just...I don't get it. They've let all three turn into such losers-I mean, that's a horrible thing to say, but that's really kind of what they are-and all either of them ever does is encourage it. Like, last month, Jeff took the money that they gave him to get his oil changed and then used it to buy beer. And then when the engine blew up, they just bought him a different car. I just...I don't get it? How can they have such stupidly high standards for me, yet they'll replace Jeff's car after he spends the money that they gave him for basic maintenance on beer? It doesn't make sense."
"Okay, yeah, that's super retarded."
"They're always doing things like that. It's the worst. I don't even know who to be most mad at, because it's all just so ridiculous."
Adam's eyebrows furrowed as he looked down at the price tag on a sweater.
"Have you tried talking to them about it?"
Julie shook her head.
"There's always some kind of excuse. It's always 'Well, you know how it's been since Jennifer broke up with him' or 'Oh, well, Tim has always been a little slow to mature'. Whatever it is, they'll come up with something to justify it."
"Shit."
"Yeah. Seriously, if I ever act half as stupid as Jeff or Shawn, like, please tell me."
"Will do." Adam chuckled, draping the sweater over his good shoulder as he continued shopping. "Promise to do the same if I turn into that big of an idiot?"
"Definitely."
"So how are you doing?" Julie finally asked, looking back over at Adam.
.
After all, being back was weird enough for her.
.
"Kind of okay." He nodded, still looking at the awkward gaps where his legacy had been deleted. Where his plaque and senior photo and jersey had all been removed; the spaces never quite re-arranged afterward. "I think."
"Heh, their hockey shrines have always been pretty lame."
"Yeah."
"It's funny." She paused, thinking back to the parts that had been left out of the great Nostalgia-fest; the parts that were neither good nor bad enough to warrant much mention. The practices that dragged on for forever-mornings starting before dawn, and evening practices that continued well after the sun had set, leaving everyone to wonder what daylight was even like. The constant pressure. The bickering that came from never sleeping more than six hours a night. "I think hockey was my least favorite part of this place."
"No kidding. I mean, we were good. But yeah. That was a lot."
"You helped a lot of people get opportunities they wouldn't have had otherwise..." She reminded him, mindful of his role in that story. Mindful that in some ways, he'd epitomized both all that was great and all that was wrong with Eden Hall; many of the more wonderful parts of his personality never given much opportunity to flourish.
"Maybe."
"You did.
"Come on." She smiled, taking his hand as she led him towards the door. "Let's go re-live some of the happier parts of our glory days."
"And uh, which parts would you be suggesting?"
"Well, for one thing, if I know this place, I'm guessing that the vending machine in Vandiver still gives out free Starburst if you press the button the right way."
"Ah, I see you still know the way to my heart." He chuckled, putting his arm around her as they walked back out into the sunlight.
"Your closeted love for all things unhealthy? You're a pretty predictable guy that way."
"Heh, at this point, I guess it's not much of a secret."
"Yeah, but your extra bits of fluff are kind of cute." She assured him, reaching for a bit of rounded tummy as Adam shook his head.
"So much use of euphemism going on there..."
"Not if you become a sheep."
"That would be awesome!" He agreed. "Growing my own wool? I'd save so much money on sweaters..."
"Baaaah-d ass plan."
"Ewe's jealous that you can't grow wool."
"Ewe got me." She giggled, leaning into his shoulder as they made their way down the old brick pathway; a weight lifting as they got further from the arena.
"It was a sheep shot."
"That was a wooly good one."
"That was so bad it herds."
...
"This was always one of the prettiest parts of campus..." Adam mused a moment later, looking ahead at the stone archway that allowed a person to cut through the library and language buildings. Flanking each side were benches that always made a good place to sit after hours; many a Friday night plan discussed over those benches once the adults had left for the evening.
"It really was."
"I wonder how many felonies we all planned over here."
"I didn't plan any." Julie shook her head, recalling the endless scheming of prep school boys, all eager to break up the monotony of suburban life. "You were the one who always hung out with idiots."
"Yeah, it's kind of a miracle that half of those guys didn't die of cocaine overdoses by the time we graduated. No idea how Crawford is still alive."
"Crawford was like Einstein next to Thad."
"Ah, now that is where you are wrong." Adam chuckled. "Thad was a full-time moron. He didn't really have to up the stupid ante on the weekends, because he'd already had a weeklong start on his bad ideas. Crawford would like, try to cram a month of debauchery into two hours on a Friday, and a person would just watch, and it would be horrifying."
"You really did have a gift for picking ridiculous friends."
"It was Eden Hall. The Ducks were, ironically, the least ridiculous guys here."
"I wonder if it's still that way."
"Probably." He shrugged. "I feel like anytime a place is 75% male, everyone's just kind of doomed."
"See? Now that is why adding more women to the picture is important."
"No kidding. Without you, it kind of turns into Lord of the Flies. But with more drugs."
"So inspiring..."
"Heh, well, fortunately I had you." He smiled, pulling her in closer. "You were definitely a good influence. And way better looking than Crawford."
"I don't know. That overbite was pretty sexy..."
"Oh yeah, between that and his handwashing obsession, he was a pretty hard guy to resist."
Julie shook her head.
"To have been a school for rich jocks, this place really did feel like the Island of Misfit Boys sometimes."
"I think that may have just been a reflection of the overall loser-y-ness of 16 year old dudes." He reminded her, laughing. "Don't forget the winners they had over at Breck and St. Andrew's..."
"Okay, yeah, I definitely hit the jackpot with you."
"You really did."
"So humble, too."
"Come on. I had a lot to offer. I was good at making bird sounds. I was good at tripping over things. I managed to superglue my mouth shut that one time..."
"Those really were the sexiest parts." She agreed, leaning into his shoulder as they walked. "Especially supergluing your mouth. That was so hot."
"I was what dreams were made of."
"You totally were."
"What did I ever do to deserve you?"
"Well, you were pretty cute. And you made good bird sounds."
"Still good at bird sounds."
"And also still pretty cute."
June, 2002
Stepping out of the fitting room, Adam noticed the goosebumps that had overtaken Julie's arms; the air vent above continuing its assault on damp shoppers.
"You look cold."
"It's not bad."
"We're literally in a clothing store." He reminded her, smiling.
He thought of taking off his own rain jacket to give to her, but surrounded by rack after rack of comfy fleece, he thought better of it. His North Face was thin, and felt like plastic...practical for braving the monsoon outside without having to try to hold an umbrella, but more of a utilitarian choice than anything else.
Fortunately, even in June, Abercrombie had their bases covered.
.
"So?"
"So I think there's a solution to this."
"But I don't need anything. And besides, I'm trying to save money for next semester."
Adam shook his head.
"Okay, that's it, Cat Lady. Go buy yourself something warmer. I'm paying."
"No you're not."
"This is Abercrombie." He chuckled. "I'm not exactly letting you freeze to death over $50."
"But that's a lot of money for a sweatshirt."
"It's really not."
"Cake eater."
"Yeah, well, I hope Marie Antoinette brought the funfetti." He shrugged, shifting his cane in his hand as he smiled at his first crush; his beloved Cat Lady still as easygoing and innocent as he remembered.
I hope whoever she marries one day knows how lucky he is.
"You are so weird..."
"I do what I can."
"You succeed."
"I want to be 16 again."
Adam and Julie sat side by side on the floor of Vandiver hall, candy in hand. The lights were off, the glow of the vending machine and a strip of sunlight pouring in through the window the only things keeping them company as the building sat deserted for the summer.
Julie stared down at her pack of Starburst, remembering all of those crisp winter mornings, and how she'd sneak up to Adam's room before practice for a few minutes of cuddling before the day began. The way that his room always smelled like Acqua Di Gio, and how his taste in pajamas was frustratingly chaste: Sweatshirts and flannel pants from October to March.
She remembered the bonfires before football games, and the lake parties every spring. The conversations in the hallway about what some idiot said in class, and the jokes about how the real world would never be this lame.
She missed it all. The safety of being in a place where nobody thought twice about sneaking across campus at four in the morning. The camaraderie of a team. The way that the seasons mattered, rather than life being one endless slog that all blended into grey New England mush. The excitement of waiting for life to begin, rather than realizing that this was life; that the real world would be way, way lamer.
And, of course, she missed Adam.
More than she'd ever realized.
"Oh man, seriously. I never knew how good I had it. I was living the dream."
"Your Porsche was pretty dreamy." She agreed, giggling as she peeled open a pink Starburst.
"No kidding. I'm still mad at myself for wrecking it."
"What was that? Two Porsches in like, six years?"
"Something like that."
"Yeah, no more Porsches for you." She shook her head. "They're apparently bad luck."
"I don't know. They might have been pretty good luck. I'm still here, and aside from a couple of scars, no lasting damage. Better than I can say for the Lexus, really..."
"Ouch, yeah, that one definitely didn't sound like it was much fun."
"Probably worse for Laura." He shrugged. "That couldn't have been a fun call to get on the way to taking the kids to school."
"Geez..."
"Yeah."
Julie looked over at him, her brows furrowed. Her eyes wandered to the slight divot in his hairline from the second Porsche's windshield.
"I mean, I know I've like, asked, and you're...going to be as honest as you want to be, but like, are you doing better now?"
Adam paused, staring down at his hands as he twirled his signet ring around his pinkie.
"Yeah.
"I mean, I'm not doing as well as I want be." He continued, still staring down at his hands. "It turns out, my fears were right. Hockey is the only thing I've ever been good at. I'm...kind of a horrible father. I have to spend so much of my time in bed. And I...I don't deal with life very well, if that makes sense. Like, I think I spent all of those years that normal people spend developing social skills or learning to deal with adversity or whatever high as hell, so now I'm basically just this giant eighth grader with four kids and a mortgage. And that's...probably not good. For anybody. Tucker and I are pretty much operating on a level playing field, and it shows."
"That sucks."
"Yeah."
"I thought we'd be so much better at this adult thing..."
"No kidding." Adam chuckled. " I seriously want to go back and shake my 16 year old self, and be like 'Dude. Put down your hockey stick, put down the bottle of Vicodin, go take a nap, and then deal with life or whatever.'. Because not even counting everything that would happen later on, I just really, really wish I would have taken the time to like, work on the basics when they were still half-way manageable. I feel like my failure to do that made it so much easier for everything to snowball after I got hurt..."
Julie nodded.
His sentiments echoed one of her great fears: For the last seventeen years, she'd thought about the whispers from teammates. About how his gym bag always rattled with pill bottles, and all of those lake weekends where he seemed to get an earlier start than everybody else; the beers vanishing faster than she could count. The way that it always felt like there was a piece of him that she couldn't touch.
"I'd wondered about that." She began, picking at a piece of hangnail as the Coke machine hummed behind her. "Like, I didn't think anything of things when we were in high school, because I mean, you were perfect. Harvard wanted you. But like, I remember that people like Charlie would talk and stuff sometimes. Then, you know, later on, I always wondered if I should have said something. If it was my fault..."
Adam sighed, wrapping his arm around Julie's waist. He scooted closer, until her head was resting against his shoulder.
"You were perfect, Jules. There's not a thing you could have done differently. I just wish I would have been a better boyfriend to you."
"You were the best boyfriend a girl could have asked for."
"I should have been more supportive of your dreams. And dudes like Charlie were right. I...should have been more emotionally available or whatever. I wasn't doing anybody any favors by being so far up my own ass."
"You were amazing." She reminded him, her face nuzzled against his neck as they sat there alone in the dark.
She breathed in, still remembering those mornings in his bed, and the way that he always woke up to one strand of his hair poking out to the side. The smell of his sheets, and the frost along the edges of his window.
"You were the amazing one. As long as I live, I'll always love you. You'll always mean the world to me."
"And you'll always mean the world to me."
"Never forget how amazing you are."
"You're the one who needs to remember how amazing you are." Julie whispered, her hand squeezing his knee. "Because I mean, I know a lot of things have happened, but you're still as incredible as you were at 17. More so, if anything."
"You're just saying that because you're still hoping that I'll turn into a sheep, and that I'll share my wool with you."
"Ewe got me."