It might just be the hormones of a teenage boy, or maybe he got slipped some vodka in the hotel, but for some reason, standing on the promenade in Russia, Travis Lindsay really, really wants to kiss Sarah Cuthbertson. Years later, he'd conclude it was just his budding manhood that caused those feelings, but perhaps that wasn't the right conclusion.
All through his life, Travis had two constants: Sarah and Nish. From pre-k onward, it had always been the three of them. Getting into snowball fights in elementary school together, playing on the Screech Owls together, captaining the Screech Owls together. When they got to high school, they'd tried to stay together, but Nish went off on his own. By grade 10, it was just Travis and Sarah, which was how it remained for the rest of high school. Travis and Sarah did this, Travis and Sarah did that, they'd say.
Eventually, though, even Travis and Sarah had to split up. Travis went to the OHL, and Sarah played her way into a scholarship to Penn State. From there, they didn't talk that much. Just the occasional text or a quick FaceTime. Travis was always busy training for the NHL draft, and Sarah had to balance school with hockey. There was no more Travis and Sarah, just Travis and Sarah.
Going 33rd overall to Seattle feels like a fever dream. Sarah surprises him at the after-party, rocking a brand new Lindsay #7 Kraken jersey. He doesn't know why that makes him all warm in the cheeks, but it does.
When she signs with Toronto in the NWHL, he makes sure to return the favour, sporting a Cuthbertson #98 jersey. He shows up at her apartment with a bottle of wine and they spend the night drinking and reminiscing about all the crazy things they did wearing the Screech Owls' colours. At the end of the night, Travis slips out of her apartment with a quick hug. Again, he gets the warm and fuzzy feeling from the gala, but he shakes it off quickly. They're just good friends.
In the middle of a back-to-back in Edmonton and Calgary, she calls him on FaceTime. He's been in a slump as of late, and he doesn't know the antidote. His teammates offered up all their respective cures, but none of them worked for him. When she calls, it feels like a ray of sunlight on an overcast day. They don't talk about much, just the antics her teammates have gotten up to, and how NHL life has been treating Travis, but it's enough nonetheless.
The next time he's in Toronto, he makes sure to send her a pair of comps. One for you and one for a friend, he writes. That day, he plays his best game of the season, notching a hat trick and one assist. When he taps his goaltender's pads and looks up to where she's seated, he notices that only one of the seats is occupied. A strange flame of anger burns inside him at the sight. Was she not good enough for anyone?
It's 30-below in Pittsburgh when he realizes he might be in love with Sarah Cuthbertson. He's in town for all-star weekend, and she invited him to a Penn State alumni even as her plus-one. He almost turned her down out of pity, but he begrudgingly accepted in the end. He has fun, and the gaze she gives him at the end of the night, one of pure, sincere thanks, reawakens something in him he hasn't felt since he was 13.
The next time they hang out goes terribly. Travis is terribly uncomfortable, and Sarah can clearly tell, although he's not sure if she knows why. They just sit in silence for long stretches of time, sipping one of Travis' many expensive Irish whiskies. It's strangely peaceful, but it's also the most agonizing hour-and-a-half of his life.
On the Kraken's next road trip, Travis spends half of their travel time making up excuses for why him and Sarah could never work. They're both super busy. It's weird to date the girl you knew in pre-k. I'm too boring for her. He can tell it detracts from his play, as he goes goalless in their four game sortie along the west coast. At one point, lying on the California beach, he lets himself imagine what it would be like to be there with Sarah, just lounging in the sun and enjoying life. Then, he's picturing her in a bikini, and then nothing at all, and then he's drawn back to plain old reality by a scream from his linemate.
The dreams start coming soon after. Almost every night, he wakes up in a cold sweat with flood pooling between his legs. And each time, it's a different scenario. He imagines what it would be like to kiss her, to make out in a passionate embrace; he imagines how the curve of her ass might look under the moonlight shining through the hotel room window; he imagines rushing into it, eager to break in their new bed together.
Again, when they hang out, Travis is incredibly uncomfortable. Every time she looks at him, all he can think about are the dreams that have haunted him for the past couple months. The one last night was particularly vivid, and it's playing on loop in his head. She picks up on his discomfort, but he evades her questions. He's not sure he's ready to admit that I love you, Sarah, and I have since I was 13.
Nish comes by to visit. It's been a while, and Travis can freely admit that it's nice to have someone to talk to who isn't also a colleague. Or the girl you've been crushing on since you hit puberty. Nish gets him nice and liquored up, and before he even realizes it, he's spilling his guts to him. Everything from the last year comes crashing out, and Travis is surprised he takes it all in with a straight face. At the end of the night, Nish flashes Travis a wicked grin and promises that he'll make a couple calls. Travis' drunk brain didn't pick up on the meaning then, but it probably should have.
Talking to Nish reminds Travis of all the good times him and Sarah shared together. He first thinks of Nagano, and how concerned he was, even willing to brave his fear of the dark to get justice for Sarah. He thinks of the tournament in Pittsburgh, and how concerned she was after he got concussed. He thinks of the long walk they took in Boston, and how they voiced their shared apprehensions about the aquarium.
Maybe it's a good thing Sarah catches him off-guard at his hotel room in Vancouver. That means he hasn't had time to overthink talking to her. However, it also means he's woefully underdressed for entertaining company. He thinks he catches her glancing at the muscles along his arms, just hidden under his sleep shirt.
He's still not ready as she pushes her way through his doorway, grabbing a hold of his shirt. Belatedly, he realizes that this is probably his fault. Why else would she have invited him to the Penn State alumni event? Then again, logical reasoning was never really his strong suit.
When she finally touches her lips to his, it's the best feeling he's ever experienced.
