On My Mind
Confusion
When you’re a professional hockey player, there are tons of things that could go wrong. Injuries, fights, trades, illness, concussions, and scratches. No, not physical scratches, scratches that have you in a suit, sitting up in a suite, while the rest of your team members do their job, skating, scoring, and not being known as a fuck up bringing down the team.
Today, James was the fuck up.
The last five games, James had been a minus five with four give-aways, twenty five minutes in penalties, and zero shots on goal. Although it was a tough decision, Dan Bylsma decided that James needed a break. Not because he thought he was a bad player, but because he knew there was something in James’ head that was stopping him from playing to his full potential. Until that blockage was cleared, James would find himself in a suit, sitting in a suite, alone, with a cell phone, a piece of paper, and a pen.
As he sat on his padded stool, elbows on the ledge, staring off at the ice with all of his team members skating around, there was only one thing going through his mind, and it had nothing to do with the setting he was in. It was her eyes. Her eyes that held a green hue James had never seen before and could not get out of his head no matter how much he drank, or how many times he thought about other girls.
The thought of the pain on her face when he just stared at her like she was some kind of a monster made James sick. His stomach knotted, his heart beat slowed, and his hands shook with disappointment and anger. Anger because he didn’t want to think about her. He was tired of thinking about girls, making them control how he played, how he felt, or even how he lived. Although a part of him wanted to see her again and apologize, another part of him never wanted to come face to face with those green eyes every again because if he did, he wasn’t sure what he was going to do.
“God dam it”, James slammed his fist down on the ledge as her hurt voice resonated in his empty head. Standing up, he walked over to the large flat screen hanging from the wall and shut his eyes, placing his shaking hands on the back of his neck. “What the hell have I ever done?” He asked tilting his head up toward the ceiling. “Why do I have to fucking deal with this fucking, fucking, shit?” Throwing his arms to his sides, he opened his eyes to see the Dallas Stars celebrating on the TV for scoring another goal, making the score three to one Dallas with two full periods left to play in the game.
Rage rushing through him, he quickly hit the power button on the front of the TV, and turned his back to it, trying to drown out the loud boo coming from the sea of Penguins fans in the building. He felt guilty, he felt like this was his fault. He was baggage for this team, bringing it down because of his problems and shitty play. He was traded here to be great, to score, and be happy, not to sit in a suite and sulk like a little bitch.
Biting down hard on his bottom lip, James walked out of the suite and headed down the stairs towards the general public corridors. It was against the norm for players to venture into the public area while the game was going on, but he needed a drink before he launched himself from the suite, hoping the fall to the next section would kill him.
Walking through the people, not one person took the time to study his face and make any kind of an attempt to speak to him. Most of the men and women went about their business, grumbling and cursing about the horrible display of hockey they were watching. To this, James could only silently agree with them, and continue his stroll to find the closest mixed drink bar.
Eventually, James found one tucked away in the corner with a fairly short line. Walking behind the large man on line, he reached into his back pocket and grabbed his cell phone and debit card. Hitting the top button on his phone, he checked the time, 7:56, and then shoved the phone back into his pocket and started to fiddle with the green piece of plastic in between his fingers.
“Thank god”, a small female voice came from behind him, “I can’t make it through this game unless I drink heavily.” The girl laughed, followed by another female laugh that quickly filled James head, knocking all of the thoughts clear from view. He was now focused in on the two girls behind him.
“How was class last night, Sammy?” The soft female voice that soon filled the air floated into James head and wrapped itself tightly around his brain. It was so familiar, so familiar it made James stumble to the side and glance back at the two women. As his eyes landed on the girl that had just spoke, the small piece of plastic fell from his fingers and fluttered over to the girl’s feet.
As it lightly fell onto the tip of her right foot, her eyes dropped down, and as she knelt down to pick it up, James felt all of the blood in his body accumulate in his cheeks. His tongue swelled, his throat closed, and as the red head stood back up and brought her eyes to his face, he felt like he was going to throw up and pass out at the same time.
This was impossible.
“This is awkward”, she whispered with a small smirk on her face. She extended her hand with the small plastic card to James as her full pink lips went from a smirk to a soft smile. James looked down at her hand and noticed a piece of white cloth on it wrapped in plastic. From there, his eyes traced over a few bright designs and pictures, and then they landed on the mesh of the Penguins jersey draped over her body. The sleeves were rolled up, and in the space where a number should be ironed on, there was nothing. When James finally reached her face, he took in her soft porcelain like skin and the two small decorations she had on it, a small diamond above her lip, and a silver hoop in her nose.
“T-thank you”, James sputtered as he stumbled forward following the line and grabbing the plastic card from her hand, carefully avoiding her fingers.
Laughing, she adjusted her sleeves and straightened her back. “I don’t have a disease you know”, her voice was light and humorous with a venomous undertone.
“I didn’t want to hit your hand”, James spit out quickly in defense, his eyes still stuck to the white mesh on her small hand. “I know those hurt when you get them. That’s what I heard, I mean maybe it doesn’t, but I didn’t want to hurt you anymore. Not that I ever hurt you, but I was-“
The red head placed her finger on James’ lips and gave him a small smile. “Stop”, she chuckled as her blonde friend looked in on the situation with very interested eyes. “It’s absolutely fine, thank you for apologizing. You’re next; order your drink so we can go watch this disaster of a game, okay?”
In a trance, James nodded and walked up to the counter in a daze. Shaking his head a few times, he ordered a drink, handed the girl his card, and then grabbed the drink from the counter and turned toward the two girls. Opening his mouth to speak, he watched the two talk and walk up to the counter, completely unaware of how James was awkwardly standing there, mouth hanging open, face red, trying to speak to them. After a few seconds and a few odd glares from other people, James shivered and quickly took off down the hall, drinking his drink, and trying to find the quickest route back to his suite.
When he reached the little room he had been watching the game from, he took a deep breath and released the plastic card that was close to slicing through his hand from his tight grip on it. The skin on his face burned, his limbs held a slight shake, and his throat was dry despite the large drink he had just consumed on his way back to the suite.
“What am I doing?” James whispered to himself as he set the glass down and looked back toward the door. He just had the girl that had been running through his mind right in front of him. They spoke, she touched his lips, she smiled at him, and she forgave him for his awkwardness at the bar. The air was clear, he should feel better. She forgave him, that was supposed to release the death grip she had on his heart and brain.
But her bright smile and intense eyes were still burning strong behind James’ eyelids.
James wanted forgiveness and that’s what he got. He didn’t need a girl, he didn’t want a girl. He didn’t even want to be friends, he just wanted acceptance to his sorry, and he got it. He knew what girls did to him; he knew what it would end up in. Depression, sadness, betrayal, and anger. He had been through it so many times; there was no hope for another chance. Plus, she wasn’t even his type. James didn’t go for girls with tattoos and piercings. He especially didn’t go after girls with obvious facial piercings.
But a part of him, wanted more than an apology. He wanted her soft touch on his lips. He wanted to see her bright green eyes again, he wanted to study her tattoos, run his fingers through the colors, and trace the outlines along her soft skin. He wanted to touch her soft cheeks, place his finger on his lips like she did to his. He wanted to hear her voice again, he wanted to hear her laugh, and he wanted to talk to her. Look into her eyes as they spoke about anything. He knew her name, but that wasn’t enough to stop his curious mind. Why did she have piercings, tattoos, what did she do, where was she from, why was she here, did she know who he was, and did she even find him attractive? Could this even be something? Were all of this stress, anxiety, and self loathing even worth it?
After a short period of fighting with himself, James jumped off of the stool, and bolted through the door and into the hallway. The fire in his stomach combined with the burning picture of her smile behind his eyelids drove him crazy. He didn’t know why he was so infatuated with this girl. He wasn’t even sure if he really was attracted to her, but there was something intoxicating about her. She was exciting, mysterious, and rebellious. She had something that James needed, something he yearned for.
So he ran. Ran through the halls, down the stairs, and around the whole arena, looking for the red hair that made his heart burst through his rib cage. He didn’t know what to say, or how to approach her, but he didn’t care. He needed to see her and speak to her. He didn’t know if he wanted to date her, he didn’t know if he even wanted to touch her skin and quiz her about her life like he had thought about before. All he knew was that he needed to find her; he needed to see her in person.
Maybe this was what James needed.
Maybe his strong campaign against girls was wrong.
Maybe he deserved another chance.
Maybe she was his chance.
Today, James was the fuck up.
The last five games, James had been a minus five with four give-aways, twenty five minutes in penalties, and zero shots on goal. Although it was a tough decision, Dan Bylsma decided that James needed a break. Not because he thought he was a bad player, but because he knew there was something in James’ head that was stopping him from playing to his full potential. Until that blockage was cleared, James would find himself in a suit, sitting in a suite, alone, with a cell phone, a piece of paper, and a pen.
As he sat on his padded stool, elbows on the ledge, staring off at the ice with all of his team members skating around, there was only one thing going through his mind, and it had nothing to do with the setting he was in. It was her eyes. Her eyes that held a green hue James had never seen before and could not get out of his head no matter how much he drank, or how many times he thought about other girls.
The thought of the pain on her face when he just stared at her like she was some kind of a monster made James sick. His stomach knotted, his heart beat slowed, and his hands shook with disappointment and anger. Anger because he didn’t want to think about her. He was tired of thinking about girls, making them control how he played, how he felt, or even how he lived. Although a part of him wanted to see her again and apologize, another part of him never wanted to come face to face with those green eyes every again because if he did, he wasn’t sure what he was going to do.
“God dam it”, James slammed his fist down on the ledge as her hurt voice resonated in his empty head. Standing up, he walked over to the large flat screen hanging from the wall and shut his eyes, placing his shaking hands on the back of his neck. “What the hell have I ever done?” He asked tilting his head up toward the ceiling. “Why do I have to fucking deal with this fucking, fucking, shit?” Throwing his arms to his sides, he opened his eyes to see the Dallas Stars celebrating on the TV for scoring another goal, making the score three to one Dallas with two full periods left to play in the game.
Rage rushing through him, he quickly hit the power button on the front of the TV, and turned his back to it, trying to drown out the loud boo coming from the sea of Penguins fans in the building. He felt guilty, he felt like this was his fault. He was baggage for this team, bringing it down because of his problems and shitty play. He was traded here to be great, to score, and be happy, not to sit in a suite and sulk like a little bitch.
Biting down hard on his bottom lip, James walked out of the suite and headed down the stairs towards the general public corridors. It was against the norm for players to venture into the public area while the game was going on, but he needed a drink before he launched himself from the suite, hoping the fall to the next section would kill him.
Walking through the people, not one person took the time to study his face and make any kind of an attempt to speak to him. Most of the men and women went about their business, grumbling and cursing about the horrible display of hockey they were watching. To this, James could only silently agree with them, and continue his stroll to find the closest mixed drink bar.
Eventually, James found one tucked away in the corner with a fairly short line. Walking behind the large man on line, he reached into his back pocket and grabbed his cell phone and debit card. Hitting the top button on his phone, he checked the time, 7:56, and then shoved the phone back into his pocket and started to fiddle with the green piece of plastic in between his fingers.
“Thank god”, a small female voice came from behind him, “I can’t make it through this game unless I drink heavily.” The girl laughed, followed by another female laugh that quickly filled James head, knocking all of the thoughts clear from view. He was now focused in on the two girls behind him.
“How was class last night, Sammy?” The soft female voice that soon filled the air floated into James head and wrapped itself tightly around his brain. It was so familiar, so familiar it made James stumble to the side and glance back at the two women. As his eyes landed on the girl that had just spoke, the small piece of plastic fell from his fingers and fluttered over to the girl’s feet.
As it lightly fell onto the tip of her right foot, her eyes dropped down, and as she knelt down to pick it up, James felt all of the blood in his body accumulate in his cheeks. His tongue swelled, his throat closed, and as the red head stood back up and brought her eyes to his face, he felt like he was going to throw up and pass out at the same time.
This was impossible.
“This is awkward”, she whispered with a small smirk on her face. She extended her hand with the small plastic card to James as her full pink lips went from a smirk to a soft smile. James looked down at her hand and noticed a piece of white cloth on it wrapped in plastic. From there, his eyes traced over a few bright designs and pictures, and then they landed on the mesh of the Penguins jersey draped over her body. The sleeves were rolled up, and in the space where a number should be ironed on, there was nothing. When James finally reached her face, he took in her soft porcelain like skin and the two small decorations she had on it, a small diamond above her lip, and a silver hoop in her nose.
“T-thank you”, James sputtered as he stumbled forward following the line and grabbing the plastic card from her hand, carefully avoiding her fingers.
Laughing, she adjusted her sleeves and straightened her back. “I don’t have a disease you know”, her voice was light and humorous with a venomous undertone.
“I didn’t want to hit your hand”, James spit out quickly in defense, his eyes still stuck to the white mesh on her small hand. “I know those hurt when you get them. That’s what I heard, I mean maybe it doesn’t, but I didn’t want to hurt you anymore. Not that I ever hurt you, but I was-“
The red head placed her finger on James’ lips and gave him a small smile. “Stop”, she chuckled as her blonde friend looked in on the situation with very interested eyes. “It’s absolutely fine, thank you for apologizing. You’re next; order your drink so we can go watch this disaster of a game, okay?”
In a trance, James nodded and walked up to the counter in a daze. Shaking his head a few times, he ordered a drink, handed the girl his card, and then grabbed the drink from the counter and turned toward the two girls. Opening his mouth to speak, he watched the two talk and walk up to the counter, completely unaware of how James was awkwardly standing there, mouth hanging open, face red, trying to speak to them. After a few seconds and a few odd glares from other people, James shivered and quickly took off down the hall, drinking his drink, and trying to find the quickest route back to his suite.
When he reached the little room he had been watching the game from, he took a deep breath and released the plastic card that was close to slicing through his hand from his tight grip on it. The skin on his face burned, his limbs held a slight shake, and his throat was dry despite the large drink he had just consumed on his way back to the suite.
“What am I doing?” James whispered to himself as he set the glass down and looked back toward the door. He just had the girl that had been running through his mind right in front of him. They spoke, she touched his lips, she smiled at him, and she forgave him for his awkwardness at the bar. The air was clear, he should feel better. She forgave him, that was supposed to release the death grip she had on his heart and brain.
But her bright smile and intense eyes were still burning strong behind James’ eyelids.
James wanted forgiveness and that’s what he got. He didn’t need a girl, he didn’t want a girl. He didn’t even want to be friends, he just wanted acceptance to his sorry, and he got it. He knew what girls did to him; he knew what it would end up in. Depression, sadness, betrayal, and anger. He had been through it so many times; there was no hope for another chance. Plus, she wasn’t even his type. James didn’t go for girls with tattoos and piercings. He especially didn’t go after girls with obvious facial piercings.
But a part of him, wanted more than an apology. He wanted her soft touch on his lips. He wanted to see her bright green eyes again, he wanted to study her tattoos, run his fingers through the colors, and trace the outlines along her soft skin. He wanted to touch her soft cheeks, place his finger on his lips like she did to his. He wanted to hear her voice again, he wanted to hear her laugh, and he wanted to talk to her. Look into her eyes as they spoke about anything. He knew her name, but that wasn’t enough to stop his curious mind. Why did she have piercings, tattoos, what did she do, where was she from, why was she here, did she know who he was, and did she even find him attractive? Could this even be something? Were all of this stress, anxiety, and self loathing even worth it?
After a short period of fighting with himself, James jumped off of the stool, and bolted through the door and into the hallway. The fire in his stomach combined with the burning picture of her smile behind his eyelids drove him crazy. He didn’t know why he was so infatuated with this girl. He wasn’t even sure if he really was attracted to her, but there was something intoxicating about her. She was exciting, mysterious, and rebellious. She had something that James needed, something he yearned for.
So he ran. Ran through the halls, down the stairs, and around the whole arena, looking for the red hair that made his heart burst through his rib cage. He didn’t know what to say, or how to approach her, but he didn’t care. He needed to see her and speak to her. He didn’t know if he wanted to date her, he didn’t know if he even wanted to touch her skin and quiz her about her life like he had thought about before. All he knew was that he needed to find her; he needed to see her in person.
Maybe this was what James needed.
Maybe his strong campaign against girls was wrong.
Maybe he deserved another chance.
Maybe she was his chance.
5/4/13