The Tales of a Professional Hockey Player

Chapter 2: A***hole

~Ben~

I haven't been to New York since Christmas. This is how I like to remember my trip. I spent the holidays with my family, and we had a great time. I would love to forget the awful ending I created for myself, but I am reminded of it every day I wake up with no text from her. It's been six months since I've seen and talked to them, my family. After I left Matthew's apartment in the middle of the night, I walked around until I got lost enough to forget where they were. This way, I wouldn't be tempted to go back and pretend like nothing happened. At six am, I took a cab to the airport and hoped on the first flight to Europe. I ended up in Amsterdam where I spent the last days off I had before I had to be back in Germany. I mostly stayed in the hotel room I rented with the credit card the team gave me for personal expenses. I took a bus to Munich and another to Nuremberg. The end of the hockey season is a blur. Each time we won, the team went to a bar afterwards, and, every time we lost, I went anyway. I was smashed three to four times a week and I didn't care. I didn't have anyone to call, to see or to impress. The rest of the time, I threw myself in hockey. I got better, stronger and faster very quickly. I became the best on my team and my coach made sure to let everyone else know that they should be like me. I refrained myself from telling him to go to hell every time he asked my teammates to take example on me. No one should do what I did. No one should choose a career instead of family. No one should pick money over love. It's exactly what I did, and I'll regret it for the rest of my life. So, no, no one should be like me.

Hockey is what brought me away from the family I created, and, ironically, it's what will bring me back to them. Starting next month, I'll officially be a New York Islander rookie. Anywhere else would have been perfect. Why did it have to be New York? I would have been ok with Philadelphia or even Quebec. I'll finally play for the NHL and I'm not even excited. I found myself whishing I could call or text her the day after I left. This is when I knew I had made a mistake. I have felt that way every day. Nothing could make me feel good, not even learning I made it to the NHL. Nothing made me happy because I couldn't share it with her. I think she knows, though. After my contract ended in Germany, I didn't know where to go. I couldn't go back to my parents. I just couldn't face my mother's disappointed face, how her voice sounded on the phone when I told her I broke up with Eleanor was enough. I couldn't go to Windsor. Eleanor had emptied the place before moving to New York. She even still has most of my stuff somewhere. I hope she didn't throw it away, though I couldn't hold it against her if she did. I didn't know where to go, so I called Alexander. I crashed at their place for a few months until I got the call from my agent, Connor, telling me the Islanders wanted a meeting. I know El and Olive are still close, so I'm pretty sure Olive has been feeding her information about me. I just hope she wasn't too happy to learn how pitiful I looked. I left BC last night with Alexander who insisted on coming with me. It was probably Olive who told him to follow me to keep me from making a fool of myself. What she doesn't know is that I have no intention of reaching out to Eleanor. All I want is to be done with this meeting, to see what they offer me, and to be back far away from New York.

"What do you think they'll offer you?" Alexander asks as we walk into the elevator leading us to the General Manager's office. I know he's just making conversation, but I'm not in the mood. Like I said, walk in, listen, and leave. Nothing more. I shrug, keeping my eyes down to avoid looking at the posters of past and present players on the walls.

"I don't really care." I see him roll his eyes. I spot Connor at the end of the hall, waiting for us. I feel a strong grasp on my arm that has to belong to Alexander. He keeps me from walking, obliging me to look at him. "What the fuck, Alex?" I say loudly enough for my agent to hear. He raises his hands to silently ask what we're doing, and Alexander just tells him to wait for a minute.

"This is your dream, Ben. You've been talking about this day for as long as I've known you. I know you wish Eleanor was here instead of me, but you got to suck it up, man. This is the NHL. You can't act like a prick and think they'll keep you just because you're good. We'll go in there, you'll put a smile on your face, and act as if this was the best day of your life because it's supposed to be. You understand me?" I flinch when I hear him say her name. I have been avoiding saying it ever since we broke up because it hurts too much. I know he's right, I have been acting like a prick. I would have even used a stronger word that starts with ass and ends with hole, but I'll take prick.

"Yes, mom," I say, a smile creeping on my face. "Can you let me go, now?" I don't think he realized he was still grabbing my arm because his eyes fill with the funniest confused look when the words leave my mouth. He lets go of me and we start walking again.

"At least I made you laugh," he says, laughing too. I try to remember the last time I laughed this hard, but I can't. It was probably before all of this happened. Way before Germany and even before the pregnancy. I should have made her laugh more. I shake my head, reliving me of those thought that would bring me back to the dark place I just came out of. "This is your dream, this is your dream, this is your dream," I tell myself over and over again, hoping to sound as convinced as Alexander was when he said those words.