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Mibba

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The Longest Time

Four

We walked along the concourse of the Consol Energy Centre, Jack and Riley each dressed in their own Neal jersey while I wore a heavy sweater and jeans. The boys giggled excitedly, their little hands tightly gripping mine. Jessica had slipped me some extra money on our way out the door to buy treats. I suspected she was relieved to have a night without them. Her husband was away on business and I hoped she’d take some time to herself.
“Can we get popcorn and cotton candy?” Jack asked, dragging me to the concession.
“If you think you can eat all that,” I ruffled his hair.
We headed to our seats armed with hot dogs, pop, cotton candy and of course popcorn. It was a good thing I could return them to their mother after the final whistle because I had a feeling they’d make themselves sick. Our seats were against the glass, the row behind the home bench providing the perfect view of the players and centre eyes. We were so close I could have sworn I smelt the stench of gear as they piled in. Jack and Riley waved frantically when they saw James stand directly in front of us. He grinned and waved back along with a few of the other guys. This sent the boys into a fit and they spent most of the Star Spangled Banner shaking with excitement.
The puck dropped and instantly my eyes were glued on the game. Every so often I’d glance at the bench and notice the sweat drenched players, my stomach always fluttering when James sat in front of us. I was star struck to be so close the players. I found it hard to remember that I had already met two of them.
“There’s a lady?” Riley pointed out halfway into the second period.
“What?” Jack scanned the ice confused. They’d seen enough hockey to know it was mostly men.
“Right there!” Riley pointed to the end of the bench where a woman with her dark hair pulled unto a bun stood in the corner next to the coaches.
“She’s probably a medic or trainer,” I told the boys, pleased to know that the team was more inclusive than most.
“That’s weird,” Jack shook his head and shoved a handful of popcorn into his mouth.
“Why is it weird?” I asked him, surprised by his statement.
“She’s a girl, girls don’t play hockey.” He shook his head.
“Don’t be silly,” I pulled him into me. “Girls can do anything boys can do.”
He rolled his eyes and I made a mental note to work on convincing him.
Pittsburgh won 5-1 against the New York Islanders. The boys cheered at the top of their lungs when James scored at the beginning of the third period. When he returned to the bench he turned to us and flashed a grin before passing two game pucks over the glass. He was certainly making it a night they would remember. The whole ride home they chattered excitedly, highlighting the whole game and calling it the best night ever. I watched them and felt a pang of nostalgia for the days of my long past childhood. I’d forgotten what it was like to be that happy and carefree.
He was just getting home when I headed back to my car after saying goodnight to the boys. He wore a perfectly tailored grey suit with a purple shirt, his hair just messy enough without looking sloppy and his bag hung over his shoulder. I admired the way he moved, watching from the doorstep. I could imagine his muscles moving under the tight fabric of the suit.
“Hey,” he called, catching me staring at him.
“Hi,” I smiled nervously. “Great game tonight.” I took a few steps towards him, stopping on the grass between the houses.
“Thanks, it looked like you guys were having fun.” He met me in the middle, standing a few feet from me.
“The boys loved it. Thank you for the tickets.” I tried not to blush but it was impossible around him. I hated the affect he had on me, the nervousness I felt in the pit of my stomach, the uncertainty in my voice.
“No problem,” he looked at his feet, then back up at me. “Are you heading home?”
“Yeah,” I said softly. “I just dropped the boys off.”
“Do you… uh, maybe want to come in for a drink?” he stammered, looking at me nervously.
My pulse sped up and I could have sworn he’d heard my heart beating. “Sure,” I squeaked.

We sat side by side on his plush couch, two cold bottles of beer in front of us. I didn’t particularly like beer, but panicked when he offered me one. SportsCentre played in the background and the lighting was dim, casting shadows across his face.
“How’s school?” he asked, breaking the silence between us.
“It’s good,” I took a deep breath, trying to calm my pounding heart. “I really enjoy it.”
“That’s good,” he smiled, nudging closer to me. I could smell the clean aroma of his body wash. It tempted me to reach out and run my hand along his leg. But I resisted, clasping my hands together in my lap.
“When did you know you wanted to play hockey?” I asked, trying to keep the conversation going.
“I’ve always known,” he smiled sweetly. “The first time I put on skates I knew I wanted to play in the big show. But I was about 14 when I got really serious about it. Practicing everyday, playing with other guys who wanted to make it. Honestly it’s still kind of surreal that this is my life, that I get paid to do the thing I love most.” He spoke with such passion and excitement, his eyes brightened and a genuine smile across his lips.
“It’s one of those one-in-a-million things isn’t it?” I studied the dreamy look on his face and noticed how soft his skin looked.
“It really is. I’m lucky to be that one,” he stretched his arm across the back of the couch and I found the confidence to move closer to him, close enough to feel the heat of his body, sending tingles up my spine. “Being traded to Pittsburgh was one of the best things to happen to my career,” he added quietly.
“I think moving to Pittsburgh might have saved me,” I admitted, turning away from him and gazing out the window.
“It has a way of doing that,” he said comfortingly. I appreciated his simple acceptance, I didn’t want to regret my confession or be forced to explain.
We sat quietly, watching the replays from the games that night. James in his suit and me with my head inches from his shoulder. I could feel my eyelids getting heavier but didn’t want to move from the comfort of his couch, the heat of his close proximity. My mind wandered but kept coming back to how comfortable he made me. All nerves aside he had a warmth about him that eased the loneliness within me. I didn’t mean to fall asleep so close beside him, but I woke up with my head on his chest and his arm around me, his shallow breathing soothing. I pretended to sleep for a few minutes, savouring the contact before standing up embarrassed. I hurried out, thanking him again for the tickets and mentally kicking myself for feeling so relaxed. No one wanted some random girl falling asleep on them.
I lay in bed that night I couldn’t help but recall the feeling of my head on his chest. The smell of his warm skin engrained in my memory. I didn’t want to admit how at ease I felt touching him, how close we already seemed. I tossed and turned, kicking the blankets off in frustration. It was irrational to think he was doing any more than being nice. I had to force myself to be realistic and not be swept up in a frenzy of affection and infatuation. James Neal and I were simply new friends and would remain so, regardless of how quickly my heart sped up when he looked at me.

I met him on a Tuesday as I was leaving the darkroom. My portfolio was filled with newly developed images. Captured moments of my new life so far. Most of them were of the kids or the scenic downtown, I’d had an impossible time deciding which ones I wanted. I wasn’t due at Jessica’s for an hour and I was texting her to see if I she needed me to pick anything up on my way, when we collided with each other. Tubes of paint went flying from his arms and my pictures skidded across the floor.
“Shoot!” I heard a deep voice say before I could look up to see him. “I didn’t see you.” He bent down to pick up the mess of materials around us and my eyes met him. Big brown eyes surrounded by thick lashes. His face was angular, it reminded me of a sculpture. When he stood up straight he was nearly a foot taller than me, maybe more. I couldn’t tell, I was too focused on the beauty that radiated from him.
“I’m…sorry,” I stammered, joining him on the ground, collecting my pictures and handing him the brushes and pant tubes he’d dropped.
“I’m Leo,” he held out his hand after we’d organized ourselves.
“Colbie,” I shook it and smiled politely.
“That’s pretty,” he smiled, making the hair on my arms stand up. “Where are you headed?”
“Nowhere right now,” I glanced down at my phone, there were no new messages.
“Can I buy you coffee?” He was confident and relaxed. It surprised me how easily I said yes.
We sat at a table for two in the corner of a Starbucks in the next building. It was quiet and I sat sipping my tea carefully. He told me he was a painter and had grown up in Pittsburgh. He liked classical music and hated sports. I cringed as he told me hockey was his least favourite sport.
“It’s nonsensical violence,” he scoffed when I tried to tell him it wasn’t so bad.
“What is violence?” I posed the question,a a tiny part of me was mocking him, but I was enjoying the novelty of having someone to talk to.
“Good point,” he smiled and sipped his black coffee.
In my mind I knew everything about Leo was a cliche. From his paint splattered jeans to his plaid flannel shirt. He was the epitome of typical art student and I didn’t doubt that he would cause a few broken hearts in his lifetime, but that didn’t stop me from giving him my number.
“I’ll call you,” he smirked. He didn’t text. He didn’t believe in it. I couldn’t decide if that was incredibly romantic or pretentiously inconvenient.

The kids had a way of stealing my attention and making time feel like it was moving differently. I often found myself surprised to hear the front door open and Jessica come in. Somedays I’d stay and help with dinner, determined to learn how to cook. But most nights I wanted to get home and collapse on my bed, exhausted.
On Wednesday I logged into Skype out of habit before placing the pin on my and sitting on the floor with my homework. I had an art history mid-term coming and the idea made me sick. I was far from ready and worried I would never understand the concepts I was expected to regurgitate on my exam. I wanted to scream and send my textbook flying through the air from my fourth storey window when I noticed an incoming call on my computer. Relieved, I sprang to my feet and answered it. My sister’s smiling face appeared on the screen and I felt a sense of relief.
“How are you?” she grinned, the image of her a little fuzzy but better than nothing.
“Tired,” I groaned. “I’m not used to being back in school.”
“No kidding.” she laughed. “Mid-terms got you down?”
“You have no idea,” I pushed my hair out of my face and slumped my head in my hands
“Oh I do. There’s only two ways to get through midterms,” she took a drink from something in a coffee mug. “Get drunk or get laid,” she giggled and winked.
“Great,” I sighed. “Two things I can’t do in this country.”
“I wasn’t aware you had to be twenty-one to fuck in America,” she raised her eyebrow.
“I wouldn’t know,” I rolled my eyes.
“No one has caught your eye?
“I didn’t say that,” I blushed and avoided looking at her.
“Oh? Please go on,” she sipped from the mug again, holding it with two hands.
“It’s nothing really.” I shook my head. “I just had coffee with this guy yesterday, but I don’t think it’ll go anywhere.”
“Why not? Is he a weirdo?”
“Kind of, but not in a bad way.”
“What about your superstar crush?” she looked concerned, but still smiled.
“Oh that’s not going to happen.” I sighed, resigned to the feeling of defeat.
“Did something happen?” her brow crinkled.
“No, nothing really. I took the boys to his game. He’s so sweet but I know he has girls all over him.” I buried my hands in my face, frustrated and trying not to tear up. I didn’t like to think about the female attention James likely attracted.
“I guess. Did he ask you to go to the game?” Mallory knew all the right questions to ask.
“Yeah but it was just for the boys, I don’t want to get attached.” I didn’t want to talk about him or think about it. The more I thought about James the more I wanted to know him. To sit with and learn everything there was to know about him. I wanted to take pictures of him and capture his easy going smile and the shine in his eyes. In a way I wanted to be furniture in his exciting and ever changing life- study everything about him.
“Whatever you say,” she gave me a weird look. “I just want you to make the best of your years.”
“Don’t worry about me,” I gave her a weak smile. “How about you? How is Toronto?”
“It’s good, Same old, same old, but it’s good.”
I managed to keep her distracted from bringing up James for the remainder of the conversation. How could I explain that nothing had happened but still I felt hopeless? The last thing I wanted was to become interested in someone who was way out of my league.

True to his word, Leo called. I was sitting in the living room having just put Ruby down for a nap. I had a few hours before the boys would be home and I fell into the couch ready to pass out. I’d stayed up half the night on Skype with Mallory and had spent the better part of the day yawning
“Colbie,” he said when I answered the phone, forcing myself to wake up.
“Hi Leo,” I said sleepily. “How are you?”
“I’m good, Colbie.” I had no idea why he kept repeating my name. “How are you?”
“I’m good,” it was awkward talking to him without seeing his body language. His voice was unusually stiff and unreadable.
“Look, I was calling to see if you were free weekend? There’s a gallery opening downtown. I’d like it if you came.” That same confidence returned. No hesitation, as if he knew I would say yes.
“Sure,” I croaked.
“I’ll pick you up at seven on Friday night.” He said certainly.
I hung up and texted Mallory. She replied with a line of smiley faces.

Riley and I sat at the kitchen table doing our homework when Jessica came home that night. She looked frazzled and exhausted, more so than usual. Her once tight bun had begun to droop like her heavy eyelids. She snuck up the stairs before the kids could see her and came back down a few minutes later wrapped in her warm sweater and yoga pants.
“How was your day?” she asked me, kissing the top of Riley’s head.
“Good,” I closed that Art History textbook I was still studying. “He’s almost done his homework, I wish I could say the same for myself,” I smiled tired and underwhelmed by the book in front of me.
“I took that class in my first degree, brutal.” She ran her hands through Riley’s hair, pulling it out of his face. “Do you want to stay for dinner?”
“Sure,” I smiled weakly. I couldn’t stomach the idea of returning to my empty apartment and spending the night alone. Not when I had so much on my mind and nothing to distract me. I couldn’t get used to the stillness in my tiny apartment, the silence, it was so unbelievably lonely. I missed the warm hum of conversation in my childhood home, the patter of footsteps down the hallway and Aoife’s tiny hands slapping against my door. Always someone to talk to, even when you’d rather not. I missed my mother’s constant questions and my father’s knowing smile. Being separated from a family unit made me feel more cold and lost than I could have ever imagined.

“Can you chop the potatoes?” Jessica asked, glazing chicken breasts in a brown sauce.
“Is your husband coming for dinner?” I copped the potatoes into careful cubes, leaving the skin on.
“No,” she sighed. “He usually doesn’t get in until after we’ve gone to bed.” I could hear the hurt in her voice.
“I’m sorry,” I murmured, dropping the hunks of potato into the pot. “That must be hard.”
“It is, but you get used to it. He loves his job and I love him,” she shook her head frustrated. “Despite all his travelling and emotional distance, I still hold out hope that he’ll come home to us. Sometimes I think it’s more trouble than it’s worth, but how do you up and leave someone you’ve been with for so long?” She wiped eyes with the back of her hand, I could see tears spilling over. “Sorry,” she sniffled. “It’s been a long week.”
I smiled sympathetically and searched for something comforting to say. I couldn’t come up with anything suitable, instead I placed my hand on hers and hoped it helped.
“Look at me falling apart in the kitchen,” she laughed, fanning at her eyes. “Tell me about you, how’s James?” She turned to put the chicken in the oven.
“I couldn’t tell you,” I mumbled.
“You don’t talk to him?”
“Not since the night he asked me to go to the game,” I shrugged. “It’s no big deal, we’re just acquaintances.”
“That’s too bad,” she leaned against the counter. “He’s so sweet.”
“Yeah, he is.” I put the pot on the burner and set it to boil. “Do you mind if I leave my car here tomorrow night?”
“Sure, what do you have planned?” She opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of wine then took glasses from the cupboard and filled them near the top.
“I met this guy,” I bit my lip and took the glass she offered. “He wants to pick me up at seven but I wasn’t sure if I’d have time to make it home.”
“A guy?” She sipped her drink and looked at me excited. “What’s his name? What’s he like?”
“Uhm, his name is Leo, we met a few days ago when I walked directly into him. He’s… nice I guess.” I said hesitantly.
“Where is he taking you?”
“Some art gallery thing, he’s a painter.” I took a long drink of the chilled wine.
“Sounds romantic,” she winked.
“I guess. I’m trying not to have any expectations.” I admitted.
“That’s smart, but don’t be too hesitant, there’s nothing wrong with a little romance.” She winked.
I laughed and tried not to think about what she’d said. Sure, there was nothing wrong with romance, but it wasn’t something I wanted to put too much focus on. Leo seemed nice, but I wasn’t ready to start planning our wedding. I couldn’t help but wonder if we would even last more than one date. It seemed impossible as James’ smiling face ran through my mind for the thousandth time that day.

Notes

Sorry about the delay. I was away from wi-fi for a few days. This story is still getting started. Like you guys, I'm still getting to know Colbie so it's a little harder to write right now. But I have faith that things will get easier as I continue.

Hope you like it. Thanks for the comments!
xx-T

Comments

WOop

@Ambidextrous Thoughts
I am!! I should have a new chapter up soon!

TheoAirplane TheoAirplane
2/8/18

Omg are you back for good! :D

@yyc1223
I promise it isn't! I promise!!
See my update on Stay for more information <3

TheoAirplane TheoAirplane
4/22/17

Ugh i had to reread this story because i loved it so much ❤ i hope this isn't the last we will see of this story!

yyc1223 yyc1223
11/19/16