All of the Stars

Veronica fiddled with the buttons on her blouse, navy blue with white polka dots. Her fingers worked deftly over the collar, smoothing the material into tan-coloured trousers. A mossy green cardigan went overtop, feet slipped into chambray Toms.

Obsessing over what to wear kept her on thoughts of the evening that lay ahead, or worse, the night before. After the dream had awoken her, Veronica had tossed and turned until morning came, the first rays of light slanting in her windows a sign she could finally get out of bed.

Of course, her eyes glancing over the calendar, hung next to the fridge, served as a reminder that Tyler had invited her to their game that evening. Veronica had gripped the mug of coffee tightly in hand, a mix of anticipation and nervousness wreaking havoc on her system.

She kept thinking of his face, of flipping Jeremy over in the water only to reveal Jamie instead. He looked the same way as the night they had shared a bed: brown locks tousled; smooth, pale skin surrounding his pink lips.

Her hands shook as she now gripped the curling iron, twisting it along her long, auburn locks. The early wakeup had meant time to devote to her appearance, staring down a long day of thinking about Jamie. Or specifically, not thinking about Jamie.

Veronica’s thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of her phone, the landline in the kitchen. Who knew how long it had been ignored - Veronica caught the tail end of a brrrrrrrrrrring, before rushing into the next room.

“Hello?” she gasped, brushing the locks out of her face, still warm from the iron.

Silence greeted her, a pause in breathing on the other end.

“Hello?” Veronica demanded, annoyed that someone would crank call her at seven thirty in the morning. “Who’s there?”

“Vee?” Jamie asked, facepalming as he sat in the living room of his downtown condo. He hadn’t expected Veronica to answer, had thought that he might reach her voicemail to leave a message. “It’s ugh….it’s--”

“Jamie?” she asked, heart skipping a beat. All her anger fell away in a moment, replaced by butterflies flapping rapidly in her stomach. “What’s…..how are you?”

He smiled, the sunlight beaming into the windows of his apartment. It had been months since Veronica was last at his place, but he could still picture her everywhere: her purse on the dining table, shoes by the front entrance, the way she’d laid across the couch, a bottle of whiskey in hand.

“Good,” he breathed, unable to shake the memories from him. Then he clued in - it was first thing in the morning, and he was breathing like a stalker into her phone line. He sat up, clearing his throat. “I, ugh, just wanted to see about the game tonight.”

Veronica imagined that Jamie might have been having breakfast at his place before the morning skate, later in the morning. She bit on her lip, trying to keep her grin at bay.

“Tyler invited me,” she smiled, the memory fresh from the day before, when the texts of Jamie’s teammate had arrived on her phone.

It had been an impulsive decision, to say yes, buoyed by Shannon’s maniac response, insisting they go, that it had been too long since they both had seen hot boys shove each other around on the ice.

Jamie got to his feet, carrying the empty bowl and spoon towards the kitchen. He’d scarfed down some cereal and fruit, all he was able to handle on a day like today. After not seeing Veronica for months, the prospect of seeing her again - twice in a week - had him a nervous wreck the moment he woke up.

Blinking, Veronica suddenly realized that Seguin’s invitation might not have been appreciated by his captain, that it might have been the reason Jamie was calling so early. Perhaps everything that had happened with Jeremy - the loss, the heavy weight on the team - was behind them. They might not appreciate another appearance from someone who served as a reminder of their deceased colleague.

“Is that okay?” she asked, her voice small.

Jamie dropped the bowl in the kitchen sink, the spoon clattering against the steel. It echoed throughout the empty apartment, no doubt down the line to Veronica. He spun on a heel, hoping she hadn’t heard him.

“Yes!” he cried, wincing at the outburst. He chastised himself for sounding needy, desperate. Like he were begging Veronica to come to tonight’s game. “I mean, ugh….yeah, that’d be great.”

Veronica couldn’t help it - she burst out laughing, at Jamie’s expense. This was what had made the other night so great, when he had come over for dinner: that Jamie was willing and able to be himself, even if that meant acting like a fool.

“There’s tickets waiting for you at will call,” he blathered on, face burning as he tried to push past the moment, of yet again embarrassing himself in front of this gorgeous girl. “And someone will come get you guys after, to bring you down to the locker room, so you can--”

“Jamie.”

Her voice interrupted him, allowing Jamie to take a deep breath. “Of course, you already know this. Like you haven’t done this a million time before.”

She laughed again, more softly this time. Her fingers twirled the phone cord in hand, blushing at the idea of Jamie, a nervous wreck on the other end of the line.

“I’m excited,” she said softly, leaning against the kitchen counter. “About tonight.”

It was impossible not to imagine him in her space, the way he’d rolled out pizza dough like a natural, the muscles in his forearms flexing. Or the way he had insisted on doing the dishes, after being caught in the rain.

His heart squeezed tight at her words - about tonight, that she was excited. Whether it was merely to see the team, to return to the normalcy that had become a part of her life, Jamie couldn’t tell. He hoped it might have something to do with seeing him, that she could possibly feel the same jubilation he did at the evening.

“Vee?” Jamie asked, silence on the phone as he’d replied to her.

She shook her head, snapping out of the day dream. “Mmmmmhmmmmmm?”

“I….” Jamie trailed off. There were so many things he wanted to say - I’m falling for you; I’m sorry about kissing you; I’m sorry I didn’t kiss you the other night.

But he chickened out, eyelids falling shut.

“Me, too,” he mumbled.
__

Veronica balanced two containers of popcorn in hand, carefully making her way down the arena steps.

The waves of hair curled earlier in the day were gathered in a high ponytail, bouncing softly against the cream sweater she’d chosen for the game. Her boots clicked along the metal stairs - she gave herself kudos for choosing flats, the more practical choice at a hockey arena.

Two bottles of water were wedged under each arm - and amidst the juggling act, Veronica willed herself to not stare at the ice. If she did, she would have bit it for sure, sending herself tumbling face-first to the front row.

Not that it was that different from their actual seats. The tickets Tyler had left at will call were better than any she had seen when Jeremy had been working for the team: five rows up, the home bench clearly visible, the corner view providing the best vantage for watching the game.

Shannon had raved about the location the second they sat down. And throughout warm-ups, the national anthem, the first period. Even now, as Veronica stepped gingerly into their seats, handing Shannon her snacks.

“Sexy Seguin!” she’d hollered when he’d skated by on a power play, as Veronica slapped her arm. Fear of making a scene was never high on Shannon’s list of worries.

For Veronica’s part, she’d been worried enough about the flush that had come over her upon seeing him. The team must have known she was coming; each player nodded in their direction while skating by before puck drop, some offering a wave or a grin.

Anticipation bubbled in her blood even before Jamie stepped onto the ice. The grin in his voice, evident even across town, through the phone line that connected them, lingered in her mind. The sweep of his voice curled around her ear, down her neck - just like it had the night they spent in bed together.

Guilt stabbed at her as he’d stepped carefully onto the frozen pond, the hair he’d recently cut tumbling in the wind. Jamie zoomed towards her, crossovers cutting edges into the ice. His bright green jersey had flapped behind him, stick held confidently in hand.

In the moment, Veronica realized the heft of his body, the width of his shoulders, the span his legs whilst leaning into his skates. She knew Jamie wasn’t a twig, whose slightness might blow him away in the wind; but it took her breath away seeing him under the rink’s bright lights, the fans screaming his name. Perhaps it had taken until now for her to notice.

Like his teammates, Jamie had closed the gap between himself and Veronica, without making a beeline for her. His brown eyes lifted, from his feet, to the boards, and finally to hers, dark meeting light.

The smile had been impossible to resist, no matter how disloyal it felt to Jeremy. Her lips curled into a grin, heart hammering in her chest. His wink had been the only sign that they knew each other, that there might be anything between them.

“Delicious,” Shannon said, interrupting Veronica’s thoughts. Her head snapped sideways, seeing the brunette dig a hand into the procured popcorn.

Laden with butter, salty with each kernel, the popcorn was the perfect contrast to the sweet sight of Jamie’s face, as he took a faceoff at centre ice. Veronica shook her head, willing herself to focus on something other than him. There was an entire team out there, one whose company she had missed in the last six months.

The Stars were taking on the Blackhawks, a Central division team whose offensive prowess rivaled the hometown team. She had heard enough from Jeremy over the last few seasons to know that the Hawks were despised every time they came to town, mostly because “they spanked us,” in his words.

Now, though, with additions like Tyler and Jason Spezza, a bolstering of the blue line and netminder, they had the chance to stand up to teams that had bullied them around the league.

Not that it was easy.

As it was, they were tied with less than a minute to go in the third period. Dallas had been up, seeing the safety of a win, only to see it sapped away when Patrick Sharp had slipped one under the Stars’ goalie, in the opening frames of the period.

“I’m so nervous!” Shannon exclaimed, grabbing Veronica’s arm in the process. She buried her face in the redhead’s shoulder, sending a few kernels of popcorn flying.

Veronica laughed. “Easy, killer. It’s just the preseason.”

“What?” Shannon lifted her head, features twisted into a frown. “So this doesn’t even count?”

“No - if they’re tied, we’ll go to overtime,” Veronica giggled, keeping an eye on the ice. For someone like Shannon, hockey was nearly a foreign entity. It was for practically the entire state of Texas, although the Stars were doing their best to change that. “It doesn’t really matter what--”

The words fell away as the sight of Jamie caught her gaze. She turned away from Shannon, in time to see the captain at the top of the circle, looking for an opening, for a place to thread the needle and put the puck in the back of the net.

Instead, he fired the donut across the ice, away from the view of the Hawks players. David Schlemko was waiting on the blueline, his slapshot sending a ricochet of noise throughout American Airlines Center. Veronica heard it before she saw it: the silence of the rink, the crowd hanging on every motion, the sound of the puck brushing the back of the netting.

Pandemonium. Fifteen thousand fans were on their feet, shouting as the buzzer rang. Veronica screamed along with them, her popcorn sent flying as Shannon embraced her.

Through the crush of fans, the blaring goal sound that rang through the stadium, she glanced back towards the ice, her eyes locking with Jamie’s.

This time he was the one to grin.
__

“Atta boy, Schloooooomooooooo!!” Jamie shouted, as his teammate entered the locker room from the showers, clad only in a towel. The defenseman curtsied, to the cheers and jeers of the Stars’ team.

Laughing, Jamie turned back to his stall, the mirror hanging in the back helping him properly knot his plaid tie. A shadow appeared over his shoulder; his eyes flicked up, seeing number ninety one next to him.

“What do you want?” the captain grinned, tossing a glance Seguin’s way. Nothing could ruin Jamie’s mood tonight. Not with a win, an assist and Veronica in the stands.

Tyler stepped closer, leaning on the stall next to his teammate’s. “She looks good, huh?”

Hands on the cuffs of his shirt, Jamie froze. Eyes slid towards his linemate, keeping his face perfectly still. Tyler was skilled at seeing holes in a play, finding ways to sneak the puck into the net. Any quick movements, and he’d be sure to see right through Jamie.

“What do you mean?” he asked, clearing his throat.

“Jamie,” Tyler’s voice dropped a notch.

Despite the fact he was shirtless, clad only in the UnderArmour gear worn beneath their equipment, Seguin’s face was as serious as a heart attack. Jamie fumbled in vain with his cuffs, thick fingers unable to slip the buttons through the eyelets while under duress.

He finally lifted his eyes, to meet Tyler’s. Boisterous teammates carried on in the background, oblivious to the sober conversation underway.

“Dude,” Tyler breathed, cocking his head. “She’s in the stands, you’re happier than a pig in shit? But just a few days ago, you’re all broody, all moody, like the world’s done you wrong?”

Jamie blinked, his heart rate skipping at the thought that he had given himself away so easily.

“I don’t know--,” he started, the words falling flat. He opened and closed his mouth, willing the words to come.

Seguin did it for him. “Is this about Veronica?”

The sound of her name, rolled off the tongue, made Jamie’s chest tight. Then the thought of her came to mind: light sweater off-setting her creamy skin, the russet hair that drove him crazy. Seguin was no genius, but it didn’t take a genius to see right through his captain. Jamie always wore his heart on his sleeve, even when it came back to bite him.

“How long?”

Benn blinked at Tyler, unable to read his expression. “No, it’s not like--”

“I mean,” Seguin said, the tenor of his voice dropping, “how long have you felt like this?”

Months. Years.

The words leapt to Jamie’s mind, the truth too horrible to speak. To admit that he had felt this way when she was engaged to Jeremy, when she wasn’t something to be lusted over….he couldn’t. His eyes fell back towards the mirror, knowing that Tyler would see the lie as plain as day.

His shoulder shrugged as he shook his head, mumbling. “A while, I guess?”

Seguin stared at him for a long while, before exhaling a long breath. Then the telltale smirk returned to his face, the one was commonplace around the Stars’ locker room, each time when he found a new target, a new girl to hit on.

“Well then,” he smiled, slapping Jamie on the back. “Guess you’d better get out there.”

Tyler’s shit-eating grin made Benn realize he’d been a fool to confess anything to the winger. No doubt Seguin would head straight into the showers, blabbing about Jamie’s forbidden crush to anyone who would listen.

As his teammate turned to head towards the showers, Jamie spun on his heel, grabbing Tyler by the elbow.

“It’s not like that,” he blurt out, louder than expected. A few of the guys nearby glanced his way, not used to outbursts from the captain. Jamie lowered his voice, his expression serious. “With her. It’s not like that.”

The smile faded from Tyler’s lips, sympathy spread over his features. This time he wrapped an arm around Jamie’s shoulders, walking him towards the locker room door. Here it was quieter, the steady stream of reporters gone, the guys not ready to retire from the room after the high of winning.

“Jamie,” his winger said, his focus steady on the Stars’ captain. “I’m going to say this once, and I want you to listen carefully, okay?”

Jamie rolled his eyes in frustration. “If you’re gonna fuck around then forget--”

“Listen,” Tyler insisted, all humour devoid on his face. He exhaled a sharp breath, uncertain of how to proceed. “Look, Jeremy was a great guy.”

The pause hung between them, neither man speaking. Jamie waited for Tyler to continue, to state beyond the obvious. Of course Jeremy had been a great guy. His death had haunted every player, hung over the organization like a stormcloud that wouldn’t fade. And after all, Veronica had been his.

“So?” he asked, palms upturned.

Tyler held up a hand. “But you’re an idiot if you don’t see the way she looks at you.”

It hit like a punch in the gut, like a check against the boards he hadn’t been anticipating. The thought of what Tyler said, the possibility of it being true…

If his feelings hadn’t been written all over his face, they sure were now.

“Now get out there,” Seguin grinned, grabbing Jamie’s shoulder in one hand, handle in the other. He whipped open the door to the locker room, and shoved Jamie towards the exit. “She’s waiting for you.”

Benn didn’t have time to protest. He could barely keep his feet from tripping, from landing face-first on the carpet outside the locker room, that protected the player’s skates from the concrete. A graceless entrance, he managed to right himself, running a hand over the front of his suit.

Familiar faces greeted him, the spouses and families of the teammates he’d come to know so well, staring back at him. Loved ones waited outside the locker room whilst the players cleaned themselves up, erased the stench of the game from their skin. His eyes flicked from one to the next, intend on finding her.

He wasn’t even sure if Veronica was here. If she and the brunette who’d tagged along for the game had stuck around, with it being a school night and all. Maybe they’d bailed, maybe his performance out on the ice wasn’t enough to impress her, maybe--

Then he saw her. Forest green jeans wrapped around her long, lean legs, tucked into brown riding boots; the cream sweater she wore, that looked soft enough to wrap his arms around for days; her soft auburn curls pulled into a high ponytail, emphasizing the line of her cheekbones.

Veronica saw him, her face lighting up.

“Jamie!” she called, waving a hand. As if he hadn’t seen her, hadn’t felt it straight in his heart, at the sight of her.

Tyler’s words repeated in his head, a mantra he soon wouldn’t forget, as he stepped towards Veronica.
__

“No, it’s totally fine,” Veronica waved a hand at him.

Jamie rolled his eyes. “Seriously, it’s no problem.”

“No, no,” she smiled shyly at him. “Seriously, you guys have already treated us enough tonight, I don’t need another favour.”

“What’s the favour?” Shannon asked, suddenly appearing at Veronica’s side.

She had insisted on using the ladies room dedicated to the Stars’ family members, knowing it would be cleaner than any other washroom in the arena. Reaching for her purse, she swung it over a shoulder while looking back and forth from Jamie to Veronica.

“Vee’s refusing a ride home,” he murmured, too delighted in her company, at the sight of her face, to resist the smile that spread across his face.”

“I told him it’s no big deal,” Veronica replied, glancing knowingly at Shannon. “That you’re giving me a ride home, and that’s that.”

“Wait, where are you at again?” Shannon ignored her friend, instead directing the question at Jamie. “Downtown?”

“Yeah, Trinity Groves,” he replied, knowing where this was going. He made a mental note to get Shannon season’s tickets to the Stars’ games, so long as she brought Veronica each time.

“That’s right next to Oak Cliff,” she exclaimed, whipping around to face her friend, naming the neighbourhood Veronica had recently moved to. “That’ll save me so much time - I’m out in Lakewood.”

“Well, no sense in double-backing then,” Jamie replied, biting back the the grin and the laughter that threatened to spill over. “I’m happy to give you a ride, Vee.”

Veronica moved from shooting daggers in her friend’s direction, to meeting Jamie’s gaze. There they were, the butterflies that fluttered mercilessly in her stomach.

The feeling had returned, the shortness of breath, the second Jamie appeared outside the locker room. His hair, closely cropped on the sides, artfully swooped on top, was freshly styled; his skin seemed to glow from the exertion he’d shown out on the ice.

His brown suit, complimented by a white shirt and plaid tie, its colours of merlot, hunter green and cream, accentuated the dark eyes that watched her carefully, never leaving her as he approached. Veronica had nearly tripped at the sight.

“Okay,” she said, acquiescing at his offer.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to be in the same company as him, didn’t want to be as close to him as possible. Even now it took all the power in her to avoid glancing up and down, swallowing hard.

But she didn’t trust herself, didn’t trust the new and unfamiliar feelings that had been plaguing her since they ran into each other in the school hallway.

“That settles it,” Shannon declared, interrupting Veronica deep in thought and Jamie gazing fondly at her. She’d had enough unrequited love for the night - time to head home. Stepping forward, she kissed Veronica on the cheek. “Night, Ronnie.”

A hand waving at Jamie, thanking him yet again for the seats, and Shannon was off, leaving Jamie and Veronica alone, in the company of a dozen other onlookers.

“Ronnie?” he asked, his eyebrows raising as the smile turned his lips upward.

Her eyes narrowed, tongue stuck out, as she turned on the heel of her boot. “Shut up, you.”

His laughter carried down the hallway of the arena’s underbelly, out into the parking lot, where his SUV was parked. Lights beeped it unlocked, she waved away the offer for Jamie to get her door.

Silence fell upon them, easy banter falling away as they were shrouded in the darkness of the car. His fingers instinctively found the dial of the stereo system, something to fill the gap between them as Veronica fell quiet, deep in thought.

Shannon was right - it wasn’t far for him to take her home, just a few minutes away from his own home. From the place where she had sought solace after Jeremy, those painful days still a jarring memory.

Dreams, they feel like memories when I dream of you
Time won't stay, it'll stretch itself out from a minute to days

The lyrics got her attention - the dreams that had plagued her for months, of losing Jeremy. Of the one the other night, with Jamie’s face the one having woken her up.

And I'd like to think that we don't dream to wipe it off
'Cause I've been here
Living up, giving up
When I go, can I go with you?

The singer’s voice filled the vehicle, Veronica holding her breath at every word. She didn’t dare look at Jamie, as the electronic beat took over.

Happy scenes, a stupid dream when I dream of you
They don't stay, it might all be delusion but I couldn't say
And I'd like to think that we don't dream just to dream it off

Even from her side of the vehicle, she could see his hands clutching the steering wheel. Her eyes slid sideways, trying to inconspicuously see if he was listening, if he was as enraptured as she was.

'Cause I've been here
In love, give it up
When I go, can I go with you, you?
When I go, can I go with
Go, can I go with
You

It came rushing back to her - the dream from the other night, the agony she had felt in the last few days. The hours spent trying to understand what it all meant, why Jamie’s face had suddenly appeared in Jeremy’s place.

“Vee?”

Veronica whipped around to face him, the volume suddenly ceasing. The vehicle was parked; she suddenly realized they had arrived, were stopped in front of her home.

Jamie’s face was illuminated by the dash, his features tight. It was as if he’d been affected by the song as much as she had; Veronica wondered if there were things he couldn’t say, just like she.

The air got thick, the moment hanging before them like ripe fruit from the vine. She blinked, fumbling to reach for her things.

“Thanks...thanks so much for tonight,” she said, plastering a bright smile on his face. She had to get out of the car, and now. “Shannon loved it, and you guys played great--”

“Veronica,” he said, making her pause, fingers on the handle. Her words fell silent; she glanced up to meet his gaze.

When he didn’t say a word, Veronica opened the door, the overhead light like a halo over his perfect face. Cold air rushed over her, she stepped from the car.

“Thank you,” she whispered, unsure if he’d even heard her.

The door slammed behind her, the click of her boots hard against the brick walkway leading to her home. Up the steps, Veronica fumbled in the darkness for her keys, chiding herself for not having left the front light on.

“Here.”

She turned, finding Jamie on the porch, two steps below her. One hand still in her purse, she glanced down, seeing the proffered gift: her keyring.

“They fell out of your pocket,” Jamie said, the sliver of moonlight making his face barely visible. “I tried to call you back, but you were gone.”

Veronica froze, his words falling on deaf ears. The only thing that registered was the sound of his voice, calm and patient. And the scent of his cologne, woody and musky, more prominent in the darkness. Even in the low light, she could make out his eyes, the shape of his lips.

Not thinking, Veronica’s feet moved one step closer, their faces aligned.

She lent down, and kissed him.

Notes