Hockey Imagines

Never Got Over Her | Jack Hughes

#86, Center for the New Jersey Devils
Word Count: 2.3 K

"I broke my phone
So I'm using an old one
Surprised me to see
Your face on my screen
Voice on my voicemail
Couldn't help myself, no
Went straight to the pictures
There's 2,000 squares
Of you and me there
Didn't think it would derail my night
Throw me off track
Sent me into a tailspin
To right back when"
- "Old Phone," CB30

Jack's POV:

"Hey, Luke, have you seen—" I turn the corner and run straight into my brother, who's holding a bottle of water.

No cap, of course, and when we collide, the water goes all over me.

And my phone.

"Fucking shit, Luke."

His eyes go wide. "Sorry, I didn't mean to."

I sigh. "It's fine. I'm sure my phone will be fine. I'm just gonna go dry off. Actually, I'm gonna shower while I'm at it."

He nods. "Sorry, dude. I'll try to be more careful."

I roll my eyes. "Yeah, right." Luke is one of the clumsiest kids I know. How he's coordinated enough for hockey, I have no idea. Guess it's the hockey genes.

I take a shower after drying my phone off, hoping that Luke didn't ruin it. With my luck, though, he did. And I need that to communicate with the team and my family.

Sure enough, when I try to turn it on, it's not working. I groan and toss it onto my bed, frustrated. I think I have one of my old phones sitting in a drawer somewhere.

After about twenty minutes of digging through drawers throughout the apartment, I finally find my old phone from like three years ago, which is dead, so I plug it in and work on making some lunch while I wait for it to turn on.

"Dude, I made food." I call to Luke, throwing a quesadilla on a plate for him, taking a seat so I can eat. I pick up the phone, satisfied when it starts to turn on. It's not the best solution, but it's good enough.

"The hell are you doing?" Luke asks as he enters the room. "Why are you using that?"

"You broke mine, dumbass." I tell him before motioning to his plate. "Eat. We have workouts in a couple hours."

He rolls his eyes. "Yes, dad." He replies sarcastically.

"Whoa." Luke says when the phone finally powers on. "Didn't know the phone was that old."

"What do you mean?" I glance up from my food at at the phone, my heart sinking when I see the wallpaper. "Oh. That's what you mean."

I type in the password and open up the phone, going to the messages. There's a bunch of messages from her, considering we were together at the time. Old messages from the team, Coach, my parents. But almost all are from her. I mean, we talked constantly, so it makes sense.

Maybe that was our downfall. Our dependence on each other. Honestly, I don't think I'll ever understand it. I guess depending so much on each other is unhealthy, but she never seemed to mind it or anything.

I open the phone app and see a bunch of old voicemails from her, her happy, always upbeat and optimistic voice coming over the line.

"Lemme see." Luke holds out his hand and I place the phone in it. He starts scrolling through pictures. "Damn." Almost every picture in there is of her. Or her and I. And it kills me. I didn't realize how much I truly did miss her until now.