Head of the Class

The next week, Alex was determined to work his players extra hard. He gave them drills that far exceeded their capabilities. There was an underhanded motive for it, which he was a little ashamed of; he wanted Chess to fall again so he could come to her rescue. This week she hadn’t twisted her hair into its customary braid and it fell like a loose blonde blanket that covered her back. When she skated by, it billowed like a sheet in the wind, and in passing, Alex caught a whiff of a flowery shampoo. His knees got weak. Alex had long hair too, but it was an ordinary brownish red, not blonde. And it was nowhere near that long.

Chess, to Alex’s surprise, was in much better shape this week than last. Her balance was much better, and although she was still slow, she handled the drills with grace and much more ease.

“You’ve been practicing,” Alex said to her as she breezed past in a cloud of blonde.

“Yeah, I have,” she admitted. “I was so embarrassed by my fall last week that I’ve been wearing down my rollerblades all week to lock down some of the moves.”

While Alex was selfishly disappointed that he wouldn’t be able to come to her rescue again, he was pleased that he had motivated her enough to practice on her own. “Well, keep up the good work,” he said, risking a pat on the back.

As he was reaching up to pat her back, she reached up to pull a swath of hair out of her collar, and their hands met and locked. Surprised at this gesture, she looked at him again through the grill of her face mask. She squeezed his hockey-gloved hand against her shoulder and let go, skating off to help Annie with her passes.

Again, Alex stood there speechless.

And again, Bruce skated by and thumped Alex in the back. “Wake up, loverboy; you’ve got a class to teach.”

During the lesson, Chess stuck by Will like glue. Alex could hear the two of them giggling as they attempted puck-handling through each other’s sticks and skates. Will managed to hook the edge of Chess’s skate and send her forward on the ice. Alex’s stomach jumped and he lunged toward her, but by the time he got there, Chess was already on her feet laughing.

“What?” she said to him. “That was nothing.”

Alex slunk away, embarrassed.

For the rest of the class, he avoided her, humiliated. She seemed to keep her attention on everyone but him. During crossover drills, he watched her carefully, but Chess and Will were working together, hands on each other’s shoulders, trying to step over their sticks, a drill Alex knew Chess hated because she always fell. But today, under Will’s steady firm hands, she stayed upright.

Finally, at 7:30, Alex set the ice up for a short scrimmage. He put Chess, Will, and Bruce on one team, while he, Annie, and the assistant teacher Justin made up the other team. They skated back and forth, a little slowly because it was the end of the night and they were all pretty tired, but still peppy enough for a lively game. Will and Chess seemed to know exactly where each other was at all times, because both could pass in mid-play, and the other would know exactly where the puck was going to be aimed. Bruce made shot after shot, but he was no match for Justin’s defense. Alex passed gently to Annie, who missed and went scrambling after the puck. Amidst all this, Chess slipped and crashed down on her stomach. Alex made to move towards her. Annie swept the puck to Justin, and was quickly intercepted by Bruce. Bruce, who rarely paid attention to anyone else, did not realize that Alex, still drifting because he was heading toward Chess, was that close. Up went Bruce’s stick for one of his famous slapshots, and whack! went the blade, straight into Alex’s jaw.

Alex jumped back in surprise and lost his balance. His skates scrabbled at the ice for footing, but his feet flew out from under him.

WHAM!

Alex hit the ice so hard, everything went black.

The black stayed for a long, long time.

When he started to come to, everything hurt. His head throbbed and pounded, and the lights were so bright it made his eyes water.

He heard someone call his name. He tried to find the sound, but he couldn’t turn his head.

“Alex”.

He felt a light touch on his face. He forced his eyes to blink open. The bright lights from the arena stung and stung.

Chess’s face swam blurry and murky in front of him. The touch on his face was coming from her fingers. “Alex, can you hear me?” echoed her voice.

“Yeah,” he rasped. “What happened?”

“He’s okay!” Chess called to someone. “He’s awake.” Chess turned back to Alex. “How do you feel?”

“Bad,” Alex moaned. “My head hurts like hell.”

Chess stroked Alex’s hair. “You hit really hard. You scared me.”
Amid all this, Alex was touched that Chess was worried about him. “I did?”

“You bet.” Chess sat back on her heels. “Can you sit up?” Chess slid her hand behind Alex’s neck and Will (who had been sitting on the ice behind them both) took Alex’s hands and pulled him up. The arena spun, and Alex closed his eyes.

“Willy, can you go get one of those chairs?” Chess asked him. Will skated to the other side of the arena and brought back one of the banquet chairs that children sometimes used as skating aids. He slid it down the ice. Together Will and Chess lifted Alex up (Chess cradling his swollen head against the soft part of her chest protector) and set him gently on the chair. Together, the group skated along, pushing Alex in the chair to the other side of the arena. Chess had the front of the chair, skating backwards, her gloved hands at Alex’s knees. Every so often, she looked up at him, her green eyes worried.

“You OK?”

“Yeah.” But Alex knew he wasn’t.

Chess and Will helped Alex off the chair and into the men’s dressing room. Amid the scattered clothes and equipment, they laid him down on one of the benches. Chess pulled her jersey off and wadded it up. She slid it under Alex’s head. Kneeling down in front of the bench, she stroked Alex’s cheek. Her hand was warm and moist, and it carried that faint familiar smell of wet hockey glove.

“I’m going to get changed and take you to the hospital, OK?” she whispered. “Will and Bruce are going to stay with you for a few minutes until I’m ready. I won’t be long.”

“You want me to go with you to the hospital?” Will asked.

“Naw, I think it’ll be okay. Thanks, though.” Chess stood up and started to leave. Bruce reached over and snapped her suspenders as she passed.

Will leaned over Alex on the bench. “How you doing, little buddy?”

“Not too good,” Alex groaned. “I don’t think I’ve ever hit my head that hard.”

“I told you to wear a helmet,” Bruce said, shaking his head, “but oh, no; just had to look cool for the ladies, didn’t we.”

“Shut up, Bruce.”

Chess came back to the door of the men’s change room. “Safe to come in? You all decent?” She peeked in the door, dressed in her regular clothes, toting her hockey bag. “Will, could you bring my hockey bag by later tonight?” she asked, giving it to him.

“You bet. I’ll leave it by the back door if you aren’t back yet.”

Tonight? Did he live near her? Were they dating? How did Will know where she lived, familiar even with her back door, when Alex did not?

Chess sat down on the end of the bench at Alex’s feet and began undoing his skates.

“Yeah, I suppose one of us coulda done that,” joked Bruce.

Chess laughed as she loosened Alex’s skates and slid them off one by one. She rubbed his feet, not much caring if they were sweaty, and Alex was warmed instantly.

“Which shoes are his?” Chess asked.

Bruce produced Alex’s shoes and helped Chess put them on. Then they gently and slowly sat him up.

“OK, you’ve got to make it out to my car,” Chess said to Alex. “Do you think you can do that?”

“I’ll help you,” Will said, taking off his skates in a hurry. Both Chess and Will looped Alex’s arms around their necks and crossed their arms across his back. The two of them even had matched strength, like a set of bookends, and easily helped Alex up the hellishly long staircase in the hallway.

Outside, the wind had kicked up and was blowing around the dead leaves and the few snowflakes that were drifting down.

“Oh, no; snow!” moaned Alex. He shivered nauseously in his thin hoodie.

“Yep, it’s November,” Will agreed. “Time to get ready for winter.”

Chess and Will carried Alex to Chess’s car. Chess folded the passenger seat down so that she could lay Alex down. She put her hockey jersey behind his head again and leaned over him so she could buckle up the seat belt. A curtain of blonde hair swept over his neck, and he breathed in the scent. Although he was sure he had a concussion, he was thrilled to be going to the hospital with her.

That is, until he saw her and Will exchange kisses on the cheek. “See you tomorrow,” Chess said to Will.

“Want me to call first?”

“Yeah, maybe. Depends how long I’m at the hospital.”

Will leaned in the car and patted Alex on the shoulder. “Take care buddy.”

Alex pretended to be asleep.

Chess got into the car and closed the door. At once the howling wind was silenced, and there was only peace and quiet in the car. Chess looked at Alex and reached over to stroke his face.

“Poor little thing,” she murmured. “I’ll take care of you.”

Alex put his hand over hers. “Your hands are so warm.”

“Are you cold?”

“God, yes,” he whimpered.

Chess ripped off her jacket and laid it on top of Alex’s body. It was warm and smelled of her. Alex breathed in her scent. Chess patted the jacket in place and smoothed it over him.

“Hang on, little guy,” she murmured. “We’ll get to the hospital in no time.”