The Maroon Beret

-Sean-
I’m really glad I wrote the whole Kelsi nonsense down in my letter to Charlie. I felt a little guilty, not telling her on the phone. But I knew that I wouldn’t have been able to get it all out if I had to actually say it out loud. I probably would have chickened out and just not said anything. And she deserves to know, even if there’s nothing going on.

The locker room is loud, since we just shut out the Devils. Our victory song Knock Knock is playing and everyone is genuinely happy. A part of me is a little disappointed because I was really close to having another hat trick tonight, but I hit the crossbar a couple of times. I’m not too upset though, since I still scored two goals and had two assists.

I’m a little tired, but I’m looking forward to our road trip starting in St. Louis tomorrow. Most guys with wives or girlfriends hate road trips because they have to be away from their women, but with Charlie on deployment I actually look forward to them. Even after almost four months, it still feels weird sleeping in our bed without her. Being in our apartment is depressing and lonely. That’s why I like the roadies now. I like having the guys around me, even though sometimes they get crazy. I don’t feel like I’m completely by myself. We’re leaving for the airport straight from here in less than an hour, so I quickly shower and sit down to answer questions from the press. They spend an extra amount of time with me, since I’ve been playing so well lately. The reporters hound me with all types of questions, from certain plays that happened during the game to how I think the division is looking. There are even questions about Charlie, which I politely decline to answer. I may be a professional athlete, but Charlie isn’t and she deserves to have her life private. I’m still getting used to all the media attention, and I know I’m a little awkward. I have no idea how guys like my captain handle it every day.

As the last reporter is satisfied with the answer to their question, I notice that it’s only me and my goalie left in the locker room. He’s been playing like a brick wall lately, so they’ve been on him just as much as they have been on me. We shake our heads at the ridiculousness and finish packing up our stuff.

“I swear, I chose to play goalie because usually they don’t have to talk so much. I’m not actually that good. They should have been talking to anyone else but me.” He says, putting his helmet into his bag.

“Mase, you’re crazy if you think you’re not that good. You just got, what? Your eighth shut out of the season? And we’re only three months in!” He shakes his head. “Look, you gotta understand. We’re playing really well and we’re actually winning games. Philly fans love all of their players, unless they’re absolutely horrible. But the Philly media typically hates their goal tenders. Any game we lose, regardless of who’s fault it is, usually gets blamed on you guys. Take Bryz, for example. He was a good goalie, but we lost too many games with him in the net. The media blamed him for it all, and essentially ran him out of the city. But now that we’re winning games and you’re getting shut outs, they don’t know what to do. They don’t have that blame to place on anyone, so they love you.”

It makes sense in my mind. We’ve never blamed Bryz or any other of our goal tenders for our losses. But the Philly media has that reputation for a reason. They can be completely heartless when they want to. And it can be brutal.

“I guess you’re right, man.” He says. “I’m all set to go. You ready?” I quickly slip on my jacket and nod my head, grabbing my bag. We walk out of the locker room and head towards the back door where the bus should be waiting. We turn a corner and my blood goes cold. Standing between us and the door is none other than Kelsi. This time, she has a friend with her who looks equally as annoying and crazy.

“Sean!” She squeals. “I’ve been waiting for so long for you, baby!” She runs up to me and launches herself at me, forcing her lips on mine. At first I’m too stunned to do anything. But once I realize what is going on, I all but throw her off of me.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I holler at her. Her friend looks surprised. “I thought I told you to leave me the fuck alone. I’m not interested in you, and I never will be.” She looks frightened, but not of me.
“Kelsi, I thought you said you two were dating?” Her friend asks, confused.
“Um. We are! He’s just joking around.” She tries with a short laugh.
“I’m not just joking around.” I state firmly. “I am engaged and I love my fiancee more than anything else in the world. And now I’m filing for a restraining order against you.” I try to push past her to get to the door, but she catches my arm with her hand.
“Wait, Sean! Baby, no!”
“Don’t call me baby.” I growl, turning back to her. My fists are clenched and I’m seeing red. “And get your hands off of me.”

I feel Mase’s hand on my shoulder, pulling me towards the door. Reluctantly, I go with him. “I suggest you never show up here again.” He says to Kelsi. “In fact, don’t ever show up anywhere you know any of the Flyers will be.”

With that, we head out to the bus. I’m fuming when we get on, and my teammates can tell. Without a word, I sit in my seat and pull out my phone. I text my agent that I need to file a restraining order and listen to Mase telling everyone what happened as I wait for him to respond. The guys’ eyes are wide and I know they want to ask a million questions. But one glare from me and they know that now is not the best time. I put my headphones on and turn up my music, attempting to drown out the hundreds of thoughts swarming my brain.

We reach the airport and just as we’re about to board the plane I get a response from my manager, telling me how to file a restraining order online. Fortunately the plane has wifi and I brought my laptop with me. As soon as we reach cruising altitude, I pull it out and start filling out the application. Brayden gets up to go bother someone and I’m left alone in our row. I’m suddenly aware of Kimmo, who has sat down next to me and started reading over my shoulder.

“I should have done this last time.” I grumble.
“Oh, he speaks!” He jokes.

I’m not really in the mood for laughter right now.

“Relax, kid.” He says, chuckling. “It’s not the end of the world. So she kissed you. It’s not like you kissed her back. Or were leading her on. We all know you were very clear that you had no intentions of having a relationship with her. In truth, it could have been a lot worse. And you’re filling out the application for the restraining order now. That’s the important thing. With your status as a Philadelphia celebrity, your application will go through fairly quickly. We get a little bit of special treatment when it comes to that kind of thing. It’ll probably be accepted before we return home from this road trip.”

I look at him, wondering how he knows all of this stuff. “You forget I’ve been around this city for a while. This isn’t my first rodeo with crazy fans and the Philly police.” He says, reading my mind. “I have a couple of detective friends who might be able to help us out even more, if you’d like.” He offers. I think about Detective Beck, who helped us out with the whole Anne situation.
“Actually, I have a detective friend too. I’ll send him an email. Thanks, though.” He smiles and leaves to go back to his own seat.

I finish filling out the application and send a quick note to Detective Beck about my request. As I’m closing my computer, my seat mate returns with a mini bottle of vodka in his hand.
“I figured you might want this.” He laughs.
“Can they give me their whole supply?” I ask, chuckling.
“Probably not, but you could try sweet talking them.”
We laugh at the irony of that statement and I go back to my music, falling asleep for the rest of the ride.

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By the time we get to St. Louis it’s almost 1am, and we’re all exhausted. We’re like zombies, heading from the plane to the bus and then from the bus into the hotel. Brayden and I grab our keys and head to our room, collapsing right onto the beds as soon as we’re out of our suits. Fortunately I have the sense to turn my phone back on from airplane mode and plug it in on the table between the beds.

I feel like I’ve only been asleep five seconds when I’m woken up by the sound of my ringtone. Still half asleep, I ignore it for a second. It stops and I start to fall back to sleep, only to hear it going off again.
“Dude if you don’t shut that thing up I’m going to murder you.” Brayden says, his voice muffled by the pillow he’s dragged over his head.
In my sleepy haze, I fumble for it and unplug it.
I wake up a little bit when I see that it’s from an international number. She’s not supposed to call me for another couple of days.

“Hello?” I answer.
“Is this Sean Couturier?” The voice on the other line asks.
“Yes. May I ask why you’re calling me?” I glance at the clock. It’s almost three.
“We have you listed as the emergency contact for Senior Airman Charlotte Coleman. Is this correct?” The voice asks.

My heart stops.

Notes