All of the Stars

Veronica spotted Shannon across the crowded cafeteria. The click of her heels allowed her to cut a line so quickly across the gymnasium, one might have thought the police were after her, a takedown in a neighbourhood elementary school.

Easy girl, she thought.

Reaching for the sleeve of Shannon’s sweater, she spun her friend around, dark hair whirling. A
shocked look on the girl’s face easily gave way to delight.

“Easy girl,” she grinned, as if she could read Veronica’s mind. Shannon pulled back her elbow, unable to keep the smirk off her face. “Jamie Benn do that much of a number on you last night?”

“Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh,” Veronica hissed, horrified that Shannon might suggest such a thing. She glanced over her shoulders, looking to see who might be eavesdropping. A school provided only a million places to pick up on overhead gossip, courtesy from her closest friend.

Shannon rolled her eyes, before turning on the heel of her boot, continuing the required lunchroom supervision. All the teachers took a turn, monitoring the activities of the children between grades one to six, the squirmy kids who could barely sit still, who were more engrossed in what kind of juice box each other had brought versus the love life of one of their teachers.

“Easy, Abbott,” she hissed, tossing a glance at Veronica. “If last night was anything like your stare down with Benn, he’ll be waiting an eternity for you to admit you’re in love.”

That did it: Veronica stopped dead in her tracks, high heels skidding on the rubber linoleum floors. Her friend noticed the sudden absence, the lack of hovering, Veronica lingering steps behind.

“What?” Shannon turned to face her co-worker, a frown contorting her features.

Veronica crossed both arms of her navy blazer, paired over a blue button-up, loose curls falling in her face. The fan of hair shrouded the stain flooding her cheeks. She couldn’t look her friend in the face, the memories of the night before flooding her memory.

“Veronica Anne Abbott,” Shannon breathed, yanking on her arm and dragging her out of the lunchroom.

“Hey!”

Out in the silence of the hall, away from the chatter and laughter of the gymnasium, Shannon whirled Veronica around to face her.

“Spill,” she demanded, despite the grin on her face, dimple in her cheek.

Veronica glanced down, away from Shannon’s face, past her white jeans, towards the navy heels along the floor. The thoughts had been swirling in her mind for the last twelve hours, since Jamie had left the house. Of the way he’d laughed when her cat hat attached itself to his pants, of the awe he’d demonstrated over her record collection.

Now, in the heat of the moment, she couldn’t bring herself to say a word. Sensing her hesitation, Shannon pinched Veronica’s arm.

“Ow!” she cried.

“C’mon,” her friend grinned. “You’re the one who hunted me down like a bloodthirsty dog.”

She was right - Veronica had been dying to talk to Shannon all morning. All day, in fact, since her eyes had flown open in the morning, her mind haunted from dreams, remembering the way Jamie had stepped up on the stoop next to her, his face inches away. Had it been her imagination, had his fingers really swept the rain-soaked strands of hair away from her face?

No, Veronica had told herself, dragging her ass into the shower. Her fingers had shook while pulling back the curtain, recalling the way their fingers had brushed when she’d handed him a towel the night before, doused from the storm.

Had his grasp lingered longer than necessary? Was there a spark that only she seemed to feel? Veronica told herself in the mirror it was just a lack of sleep.

It had been a mantra she’d been repeating all day, each time the feelings came rushing back.

“Helllllllloooooooooo,” Shannon waved a hand in front of her face, trying to get Veronica’s attention.

Tentatively, Veronica met her gaze, chewing on the corner of her lip.

“What happened?” she shook her head, confused. “He spend the night? Propose marriage? You jump his bones?”

She couldn’t help it - Veronica burst out laughing, giving Shannon a gentle shove. “Shan.”

“Then what?” her friend grabbed the redhead by both arms, stilling her, turning the moment serious. Veronica had been the one to seek Shannon out, as if she had important news. “What happened, Ronnie?”

“I, uh…” Veronica took a deep breath, unable to categorize what had happened. It had only been a meal, but somehow felt like more. Either that or her overactive imagination was again playing tricks on her. “He came over for dinner, we made pizza.”

Shannon’s eyes narrowed. Leave it to Veronica to simplify everything, to underestimate the way Jamie had looked at her. Shannon had seen it with her own eyes - that and the guilt that clearly ate at her friend, while Veronica played with the engagement ring she wore encircled on a chain around her neck.

Sighing, Shannon took Veronica’s arms in hand, forcing her to meet her gaze. “Did you kiss him?”

“No,” Vee shook her head, bright eyes blinking rapidly. Her head shook voraciously, as if by denying the act, she could deny the feelings for Jamie that somehow kept bubbling to the surface. “But….I think I wanted to.”

The look on Shannon’s face softened - all hard edges, the jovial tone from earlier, melted away. Immediately Shannon was thrown back to the moment when Veronica poured her heart out, at the beginning of their friendship. When she’d shared the early days of heartache, of the boy who’d saved her, of their one night together, before she slipped out of town for months.

Of the overwhelming guilt, that plagued her to this day.

Now in the school cafeteria, lunchtime bustling about her like an incessant hum, Veronica could still feel it: Jamie’s fingers, trailing through her hair, the breath on her cheek as he’d pulled away, eyes refusing to meet hers.

“Oh, Vee,” Shannon whispered, wrapping both arms around her friend.

“I wanted to,” Veronica said, tears blurring her focus. Her face pressed into the neck of her closest friend at school, the one who had been witness to what had happened the other day with Jamie. “Again.”
__

Jamie glanced inside the weight room, checking if the coast was clear.

Perfect, he thought.

He needed to clear his head. To get the thoughts out, the ones that had been plaguing him since the day before. When he had stepped foot in Veronica’s school the day before, having dinner with her, brushing his fingers across her cheek in the midst of the rain…

Stop, Jamie told himself in the floor-to-ceiling mirror, reaching for a set of dumbbells. He lifted them above his head in a set of shoulder presses, happy for the pain and exertion that served as a necessary distraction.

It’d been all he could do to not kiss her. Raindrops running over her smooth cheeks, eyes bright in the rain, had done little to remind him that Veronica was still grieving, that he was a creep to think there was anything else between them. That anything he felt as Veronica had handed him a towel to dry off inside the warmth of her home, out of the rain, was his imagination only.

It’d all been a fantasy, right from the day they’d met.

Jamie grunted as he tossed the weights to the ground, frustration bubbling over.

“Jesus, man.”

He spun on a heel, finding Seguin leaning against the door of the room, an amused grin on his face as he watched his teammate sweat out his resentments.

Tyler had donned the requisite athletic gear following practice, his Stars clothing a juxtaposition to the intricate web of tattoos that, like his captain, adorned his forearms. After Coach Ruff had wrapped up the day’s drills, the Texas sunshine seemed to call to the players for lunch spend out on a patio. Benn, however, was nowhere to be found - the ice, the locker room, the space where they watched video after each game.

Seguin knew better, easily finding his teammate taking out his aggression on a set of dumbbells in the gym. Tyler crossed the room, picking up a discarded weight from the floor.

“She shut you down that badly, Benny?” his dark eyes sparkled with mischief, handing the dumbbell back to Jamie with a smirk.

Jamie snatched the weight out of his winger’s hand, not in the mood for chirping. Tyler only laughed, shoving his captain like they had the day before in Veronica’s school. When his actions had set off a chain of events, the undoing of Jamie’s heart.

“It’s nothing,” Benn hissed, eyes cast downward.

“Aw, come on,” Tyler reached for his own weights, matching the captain set for set. He grimaced in the mirror, watching Jamie’s reaction. “She tell you it was a mistake, she regret it?”

Jamie’s eyes flew up to meet his winger’s, mind whirling as he mentally retracing his steps: could Tyler somehow know? Had he been that obvious? His mind rewound weeks, months to the night.

That night, the last one before Veronica had disappeared, vanished without a trace. To the kiss that had been a mistake, that had sent her running.

Veronica had begged him, implored him to stay. To sleep alongside her, in the midst of her grief over Jeremy. Jamie had acquiesced, as a friend to both her and her fiance. Despite knowing of the pain it would cause, he had given in, slipping alongside her figure.

It had confirmed that her hair did smell like apples, each time he was close; that the rhythmic rise and fall of her breathing was more soothing than any noise machine he’d used to fall asleep, even that of the sound of the ocean back home. Not that he’d slept much, too preoccupied with the sight of her profile in the darkness of the room, the way her nose upturned at the end.

Jamie must have slipped into slumber at some point - for he’d been dreaming, the kinds of delusion he often had: Veronica, in his arms, her own wrapped around his neck, cheek pressed against his lips.

In the dream, Jamie had kissed her - the mind uncontrolled in its time of rest. Her copper hair slid through his fingers, the strands like silk, her lips softer than he could have imagined. She was small in his embrace, warm against his chest, the brush of her tongue like velvet.

Until he opened his eyes, and realized the dream...wasn’t a dream.

His mind had panicked, racing: had he reached for her, had he forced himself on Veronica? Did she know he was kissing her? Was she asleep?

Her lips had pressed against his, daring him to end the moment before his feelings, his true intentions were revealed. Jamie waited a moment too long.

Veronica had opened her eyes, moss green in the darkness. The flash of panic was evident at three in the morning, the seize of her body against his palpable despite the covers between them.

A mistake, Jamie thought now in the weight room, gaze down so his teammate wouldn’t see the anguish in his eyes. That’s why she left - because I kissed her.

Seguin shrugged as much as he could manage, whilst holding fifty pounds of weights. “They all say that, at first,” he grunted, interrupting Jamie’s reverie.

“Huh?” Benn glanced up, distracted.

Tyler shook his head. “That it’s a mistake, dummy. She’ll come around, though.”

It was a typical Seguin response, one where Jamie knew there was a 50-50 chance of it being true. The comment normally drew a bellowing laugh, at the least a sarcastic comment. This time, Jamie was consumed with his own thoughts.

When Benn didn’t reply, Seguin took note, noticing the look on Jamie’s face. He grabbed his friend by the shoulder.

“Hey, man,” he said softly, adjusting the Stars cap he wore backwards on his head, pushing the dark hair out of his eyes. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Jamie replied softly, trying to shake off Tyler’s grasp. The Stars captain was prone to mood swings, but that was usually limited to losing streaks, when he’d failed to contribute to the team, his own high standards the product of growing up an overachiever.

His teammate was unrelenting. Tyler hadn’t seen Jamie this torn up, his dark eyes rimmed with pain as looked up.

“It’s…” Benn began, taking a deep breath.

Then he remembered the look on Veronica’s face as he had left the night before, after the rain had chased them both inside. They had stumbled over one another in soaked clothing, laughter spilling from her lips after what had felt like an eternity.

Jamie didn’t know what it meant: the way Veronica had looked at him the night of their stolen kiss, contrasted with the evening before, when her words told him she’d had a good time. Her green eyes had sparkled when she said it.

He needed to find out, free of the prying eyes of his team, of the inevitable insinuations that would demand Veronica was off-limits, that the team widow wasn’t to be chased after.

He raked a hand through the dark hair that’d become lined with perspiration. “It’s nothing.”

“Yeah?” Tyler arched an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” Jamie affirmed, turning away to pick up a discarded water bottle. A towel wiped at the sweat along his brow. “I’m good.”

He turned to head for the locker rooms, away from Seguin’s prying eyes and inquisitive mind. If a playmaker was able to accumulate forty goals in a season, he’d surely be able to spot inconsistencies, to determine when things were adding up. Jamie needed to get away, and fast.

“Hey, Benn.”

Jamie skidded on his heel, glancing over a shoulder at Tyler. Both arms crossed his chest, a Cheshire grin spreading slowly across his face.

“I invited Veronica to tomorrow’s game,” Seguin replied.

It hit like a punch to the gut - as if he’d read Jamie’s mind, seen right through him back to the moment at the school the day before.

“You...wha...huh?” Jamie sputtered, blinking rapidly.

“Yeah,” Tyler replied, setting the weights he’d been using back on the rack. His dark eyes slid towards his captain, seeking Jamie squirm. “Texted her, asked if she wanted to come.”

“Why?” Jamie demanded, his temper flaring. Either Tyler was stepping on territory neither one of them had rightfully claimed, or his teammate was fucking with Jamie - or both he and Veronica.

“It’s been awhile since she’s been here,” Seguin shrugged, closing the distance between them. “Thought she might want a night out, take her mind off things.”

He met Jamie at the entrance to the room, on the threshold of the space that had held their conversation. Same height, eye to eye, Tyler met Jamie’s gaze.

“What did….” Jamie took a deep breath. “What’d she say?”

Tyler hesitated, finally finding the source of his captain’s anguish. It took everything in him not to reveal the truth, to call Jamie out.

“Said she couldn’t wait,” Tyler bit back a grin, slapping Jamie on the back as he spun on a heel, heading out of the room.
__

Veronica checked the time, on the silver watch adorning her wrist.

Twenty minutes late. That couldn’t be good news, considering what her appointment was for. She sighed, slouching in the wooden chair as she leaned her head back against the wall.

Lawyer’s offices had always made her uneasy: when her parents had signed their divorce papers, when her father had sued for custody. Even signing the papers on the suburbs house with Jeremy had been a stressful, frightful ordeal.

“It’s more permanent than marriage,” she had said, nervously laughing as their real estate lawyer had nodded in agreement. “We can leave each other, but we can’t leave the bank.”

Jeremy had told Veronica she was being crazy, kissing her lips to hush her. But now, six months after his death, Veronica’s words were coming back to haunt her.

A springtime selling date, a barely lived in home, Veronica’s hard work to pack up the lives she and Jeremy had only started living. Their realtor had expected the home to sell within a few weeks.

Instead, it dragged on for months. A soft housing market, a weakening economy, a glut of properties in their neighbourhood. Apparently others had made the rush to move out of the city, only to later regret it.

I know the feeling, Veronica thought, wishing she had accepted the office receptionist's offer for coffee. It would have settled her frayed nerves, the rush of blowing out of school the moment the bell rang, zig-zagging across Dallas in an effort to make it to the appointment.

Chip, her lawyer, had called to say the deal was done. That there were some questions to go over, some documents to sign.

If anything, the errand had necessitated an early exit from the building, lowering the chances of Veronica running into Shannon again. After her lunchtime omissions, the confessions of what had transpired the night before, Veronica didn’t think she could handle any more interrogations.

“Miss Abbott?”

Veronica spun in her chair, towards the voice that had spoke her name. A portly man in his fifties awaited, offering a smile. His absence of a jacket, the unkempt nature of his tie, was indicative of the swamped nature of his business - the constant wheeling and dealing, the legal professionals that cleaned up the messes.

Veronica and Jeremy’s had been one such mess. A young family had been the ones to finally buy the home, insisting on an immediate possession, anxious to be settled while the school year began. The division of funds, when one partner on the house deed was no longer alive, complicated the hasty purchase of their property.

There had been several of these meetings, combing through their mortgage documents to ensure the deal went off without a hitch, and today was to be the final step in freeing herself of the home that had become a prison.

“Good to see you,” Chip said, a tinge of sympathy lacing his words. He offered a hand to Veronica, who shook it.

“You too,” Veronica smiled, anxious to have this last aspect settled. She followed Chip down a hallway, austere and devoid of personal mementos. It was as bland as the coffee-stained shirt he wore, Veronica a step behind.

“Can I get you anything? Coffee, water?” he asked, adjusting his glasses as he glanced at Veronica.

“I’m fine,” Veronica said, waving a hand. They stepped into a conference room, her gaze on Chip. “I’m just looking forward to getting--”

She felt the presence of someone else in the room; words fell away as her head whipped around. Across the table sat Louis and Diane, Jeremy’s parents. His mother sat primly, with her hands folded across her lap; Louis wore a look of frustration, as if he was steeling himself for the conversation that lay ahead.

“Louis. Diane. I didn’t know you’d be here,” Veronica blinked, forcing a smile to her face. “It’s good to see you.”

The words were hollow, antiquated after what they had been through. Amidst the depth of Veronica’s despair, it had been hard to remember that others were mourning the loss of Jeremy. That other people felt the void as she had, missed everything about his presence.

The icy demeanour from her former in-laws to be was palpable - and not undeserved. After the funeral, Veronica had disappeared, without so much telling anyone but her parents where she was. That had applied to Louis and Diane, who had been left in the dark, Jeremy’s death coupled by their soon-to-be daughter-in-law vanishing as well.

“It’s good to see you, Veronica,” Louis said, any goodwill that had been apparent at the funeral, gone from his features. His eyes slid to Chip, then to a stack of neatly arranged documents on the table.

“Louis and Diane asked to come in and review the papers, too,” Chip stammered, springing to action amidst a clearly uncomfortable situation. He handed out copies of papers from the table, each marked with tabs for signing, highlighted information.

“Oh. Okay,” Veronica frowned, an uneasy feeling in her stomach. What was going on? What was happening? She felt unsettled, but took a seat across from Jeremy’s parents.

Chip led the review, diving into the documents as only a lawyer could. Terms she didn’t understand went over Veronica’s head, nodding as she barely followed along. The possession date was reviewed, the final price of the home would be minus expenses.

“Let’s talk about the division of assets,” Chip said, his voice wavering. He kept his eyes on the papers, avoiding the eyes of those in the room with him. “So, given the fact that Jeremy didn’t have a will, the funds will be directed into the account of his next living relatives.”

Veronica froze. “Wait, what?”

Chip continued. “Which, according to the state of Texas, would be his parents.”

“What?!” Veronica cried, immediately feeling panic setting in. Her neck flushed with anger, palms got sweaty. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Veronica, calm down,” Louis said, holding up a hand to quell Veronica’s outburst. “Given that you and Jeremy weren’t related--”

“We were engaged,” she cried, the weight of his ring evident as it sat against her throat. “I loved him!”

“But that doesn’t change the fact that you weren’t married,” his mother chimed in, condescension dripping into her voice. “You were just dating, as far as the law is concerned.”

The room got blurry; Veronica struggled to control her rage. She had been barely making ends meet as it was, waiting for the house funds to provide her some respite. As it was, the money wouldn’t pale in comparison to losing Jeremy, to the regret she felt over the day he died. Veronica would have given anything to have him back in her life, and now she was being made to seem inconsequential, insignificant.

She turned to her lawyer. “Chip,” she pleaded.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, pain creasing the corners of his eyes. “The law is clear in cases like this. Because he contributed significantly more both in terms of the down payment and monthly costs, he was the primary owner of the house.”

“So that means…” Veronica trailed off, unable to say the words.

She knew what it meant: that without the paperwork saying so, her relationship with Jeremy was essentially non-existent. That if they were married this wouldn’t be an issue, a fight over the lasting legacy of his life.

Her mind raced with the possibilities of what this could mean: moving again, struggling to pay her bills, starting from scratch despite what she and Jeremy had invested together.

She was right: Jeremy had left her, had left her alone and with nothing to show for it; but the house was bigger than them, a mistake she couldn’t outrun.

“I’m sorry,” her lawyer whispered again, laying a hand over Veronica’s.
__

The dream came to her in the middle of the night.

Veronica twisted in the sheets tucked against the bed, the visions she’d so often experienced
haunting her.

She paddled out across the smooth, still water. Somehow Veronica knew it was the lake she’d swam in as a child, the Colorado water clean and cool against her lips.

It felt so familiar: the water, the canoe, the crisp air surrounding them. Ahead of her, Jer laughed, a trademark grin on his face as he looked back at her.

Somehow Veronica knew it was a dream, one she’d had before.

She realized it the second she slipped into the water, out of the canoe. No matter how much Veronica tried to subconsciously fight it, willed herself to hang on, she always fell into the water, a clumsy error.

She could feel the harsh sting of the tepid waters, causing Veronica to gasp as her head slipped under the surface. Of course, it meant swallowing a mouthful of water - lake, river, didn’t matter - the burn stinging her lungs.

“Jeremy,” she gasped, swallowing another mouthful of water. His face, his gorgeous face, seemed oblivious to what was happening just a few feet away.

Her legs kicked, fighting to push her towards air. The harder Veronica tried, the faster she sank, the surface of the water like a piece of glass her fingers couldn’t quite reach. That’s when the panic set in.

She could feel the adrenaline coursing through her veins, the feeling in her fingertips fading from the temperature of the lake. Veronica willed herself to push, to kick, to get back to where she’d come from.
“Jeremy!” she screamed, the sound lost underwater and replaced with another surge of water in her lungs. She called for him, again and again, hoping that each time would result in him realizing that she had slipped away.

Once, her fingers broke the surface; hope surged through her, the belief that maybe, possibly, she could re-write the past, the dream that had so often plagued her. Still, Jeremy didn’t notice her. His face was frozen on that impossibly perfect smile, not blinking, not even moving.

Suddenly, their roles flipped. Jeremy was the one in the water, falling beneath the surface, slipping away. His head broke the surface, dark blonde hair made even darker from the water. His blue eyes met hers, laughter creeping in at the edges.

Veronica screamed for him, tried to reach him without somehow spilling into the water herself.

“Jeremy!” she wailed, as he disappeared, the blackness taking everything with it.

That did it - she was in the water, canoe overturned, the race to save him. The water was still, undisturbed except for Veronica’s strides, causing ripples along the surface. No sign of him, of him beneath - she dove under, panic coursing through her veins.

Jeremy floated three feet beneath, sinking slowly, arms outstretched above. Veronica shrieked - underwater - the icy liquid filling her nostrils, a mouthful ignored as she swam towards him.

Her arms paddled against the icy waters, the heaviness that came with swimming with one’s clothes on. Undeterred, she pushed on, reaching his body.

His eyes were closed by the time she reached him, Veronica’s arms wrapping around him, her only thought being to get him to the surface in time. The fear of losing him - of him slipping away - was now real, his laughing features disappeared without the chance to say goodbye.

Thank goodness for buoyancy - otherwise she’d have never been able to drag Jeremy’s body to the surface, the eighty-pound difference between them dissipated in the water. Upon reaching the surface, her own lungs screamed - desperate for air, dragging him along.

She flipped him over, shocked at the face before her.

Not Jeremy’s - but Jamie’s.

Veronica snapped awake, screaming as she sat up straight in bed.

Her heaving chest and the sheets along her fingers clued her in that it had been a dream; that the moisture against her skin was from sweat, not lake water. Veronica’s racing heart thumped blood through her system; she could feel her pulse reverberating in her ears.

It brought Veronica back - the hazy memories, wrapped in twisted sheets, the night before she’d disappeared from Jamie’s apartment, from Dallas altogether. He’d come home from practice, the night before leaving for playoffs, finding her in his bed.

“Please stay,” Veronica had whispered, her fingers lacing with his before Jamie could disappear from the side of the mattress. Another night alone, the fitful dreams, haunting her…

His strong arms wrapped around her, even on top of the covers, could only do so much to keep the nightmares away: she and Jeremy, swimming in a lake, the water cold and clear along her skin.

Her eyes had opened, lips pressed not against Jeremy’s - but instead along Jamie’s, in the bed she’d insisted he lay upon, hoping to keep the nightmares away. Rather than the blue eyes she’d been dreaming of, desperate for him to open, she was greeted with Jamie’s hazel, as he’d held Veronica close, not making any sudden movements.

She flopped back against the pillows, disturbed by the dream.

“Jamie,” she whispered, tears of guilt streaming down her cheeks and onto the pillow.

Notes