How We Don’t Talk Anymore
#10 of Hockey Hunk Season 6
How We Don't Talk Anymore
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Hello, and welcome to the Hockey Hunk!
It's a Friday and it brings another chapter, and I do hope that you enjoy the read! The season has been off to a fun start, and I hope that you will be supporting the story in the future as well, enjoying and...doing the stuff you do, of course! *smiles* My thanks to you all for being there, and making this an enjoyable experience. I do look forward to your comments and other feedback, and as always, remember that it will help others to find these stories to enjoy as well.
Cheers!
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We walked a short way from the clothing store, settled for a café called The Step Forward Zone, the same one where I had a burger with Doctor Faye some time ago, and we got our stuff and sat down. I had a big mug of regular coffee with a little bit of cream and one of those great cinnamon buns on a plate, and Jessica had a small cup of cappuccino and a salty, cheese-covered croissant that seemed difficult to eat neatly without the fork and knife settled by the side.
I watched how she picked the little shiny spoon with a delicate pinch of her fingers and stirred the small milky cup of coffee a few times, making patterns on the frothy surface. It was a familiar gesture coming from her, it looked like a ritual or something, something I'd seen her do a few times. Jessica always liked ordering one of those funny-tasting cups of coffee and...savoring it. It was something I'd witnessed a few times. We'd gone for a coffee before, sat down a little, laughed and talked...
This didn't feel the same. I stirred my own coffee a few times and watched her tight lips for a moment. The same ones I kissed...her eyes flicking down to her phone resting on the white cloth on the table. Maybe she was waiting for a message or something. Maybe she just wanted to keep some sort of a distance between us. Not let me come too close...
Maybe. Women were even harder to read than guys, when there were certain things you wanted to see.
"We never went to this place, did we?" she asked.
I nodded.
"No," I said, "we've been to that little place on the ground floor, and the one next to the electronics store, near the south gate."
"Right," she said, "I think I remember now."
Seemed like another time, even if it was only a few months ago. All the time spent together, laughing and going to the movies, cafes, the burger place, trying on funny hats and sunglasses at the outlet store...
We had fun.
"Doesn't matter", I said.
She took a tiny sip from her cup, which left a brownish stain from the foam on the top to her upper lip. She licked it away quickly as she put her cup down.
"How are you?" I asked.
Her little ears flicked back and forth, and she avoided my eyes, instead staring at her cup.
"I'm alright, thank you," Jessica said.
"Have you been busy?"
"At home," she said quickly, "my sister graduated from high school."
"Oh that's nice," I said. "Does she have any plans?"
Awkward.
"She wants to try psychology," she replied, "starting now here, in Taylor."
"Sounds very interesting," I said. "Hope she does well."
"I'm sure she will."
The sugar on my cinnamon bun crunched between my teeth when I took a big chomp. The flavor was an old friend, and tickled nicely on the roof of my maw.
"So...you didn't go back home for the summer?" she asked.
"No," I said, "the flights would've cost a fortune and I was busy here, anyway. Got a lot of stuff to do here."
"Not even - "she started, but stopped, her eyes, which had momentarily met mine, avoiding me again.
I let out a breath. It'd taken long enough with Mason to get him stop doing this thing. Somehow it'd seemed even more awkward with him doing it. Uncharacteristic.
"It's okay to talk about it," I said, looking at her, "It's only mass murder."
Her eyes flickered at me and then pretended to be interested in the phone again.
"Soon we'll probably make bad movies out of it, like you've done with the World Trade Center," I continued.
She looked almost offended. I felt what was almost pleasure in response to that reaction.
I stirred my coffee and felt frustrated.
"It's what it is," I said, "Jessica, it's all there is to it. It's shit, but if I let myself to think about it too much, I'll get stuck and what good is that for anyone."
"If you need to talk..."
"Thanks, I've talked enough with my parents and everyone," I said. "I don't need anyone else."
She looked hurt.
"Sorry," I said. "Sorry."
"Haakon - "
"I said, I'm sorry, but I just don't have the energy left to talk about it any further," I told her, looking at her as gently as I could, "it's just not good for me, I hope you understand that."
Her ears were flat.
"Okay," she said. "I shouldn't have pushed."
"It's alright," I said too quickly.
I tried my coffee and wondered if she was feeling as awkward as I was. This felt painful. Just sitting here, my tail like a flagpole, trying not to be angry with her even if she only maybe really wanted to help me. We were friends, after all, maybe this had sparked something that remained and she was really trying to reach out and tell me that she had a shoulder to spare for a sad lynx.
"I'm sorry," I said.
"Okay," she said.
Maybe that was everything one could say to really get a grip of the scale of things with Utoya.
"It has sucked," I said, "but I've got a lot of stuff to do. It keeps me busy."
"That's good then," she said, trying to smile.
"Yeah, it sure is."
"So are you working or..."
"I still can't work," I said, "my student visa does not allow me to work in the USA, I can only study."
"Lucky you," she said, "I had to work at mom and dad's business all summer."
"I hope you at least made some money out of it," I noted.
"It's like working at a Wal-Mart," she grunted.
I gave her a curious look.
"I didn't know your parents run a supermarket."
"Heh," she chuckled briefly, "not quite."
"So what is it then?" I asked, feeling puzzled.
"Don't you have Wal-Mart in Norway?"
"No," I said.
"Oh...McDonalds, then?"
"Your parents have a fast food restaurant?" I asked.
"Don't be thick," she said, "I meant, they paid me really badly. Just like Wal-Mart or McDonalds."
"Ah..." I nodded, "well, sorry, then. My bad. Cultural differences, yes? Ja?" Ju?"
She used to love me saying that. It made her laugh so brightly.
"Alright, alright," she said. "That's it, then."
"Okay, so they paid like crap," I said, "I understand now."
"It's still a job," she said, looking at her expensive phone and her expensive coffee, "can't complain in these times."
"Of course," I said.
More silence. More creeping silence between us, even if before we never stopped laughing. Always having something fun to say, to tease, and to play little games, and walk out in the winter air and...warmth...
"I...I heard from Abbie that there's some kind of a musical going on and you're in it...with...Mason..." she said.
I recalled the little perky weasel Jessica often talked about, and wondered how she knew about it. At least she wasn't involved in our production...but maybe she knew someone...or saw something...or heard something...not like it was a state secret. From her voice, though, I figured out that this wasn't about any musical at all.
"Yeah, we are," I said, "Cabaret."
"I've seen the movie," she said.
"It' just a small part," I told her, "just a little bit of dancing and singing along with the others."
"Well, that's cool."
"It's fun," I said, "I like doing it. I like dancing, and I'm learning a lot all the time. There's this girl Megan who is doing our choreography."
"I'm glad you're enjoying yourself," she said.
We drank coffee in silence.
"So you have..."
I looked at her suddenly.
"What?"
She swallowed.
"So you're...you're still..."
"What?" I questioned.
"So he..." she scratched her wrist, "So you're still friends?"
I snuffled.
"Well, yeah," I said, "yeah, we are."
She nodded tentatively.
"I...maybe I thought..."
"That we weren't friends anymore?" I proposed.
"Yeah," she said.
"Well, we sorted things out," I said, "Both of us realized we'd done some really stupid things."
Like him hitting me when he found out that I'd told him I was going out but hadn't told him that I was going out with Jessica...whom Mason had been planning to ask out for a grand date for weeks and couldn't stop talking about...that Jessica had angrily phoned Mason and told him all about the fact that Jessica and I had been sleeping together and...it'd all snowballed until things has been really rough.
"Ah...alright."
"He was really mad, as much as you can imagine," I continued, "he thought you were serious."
"We are...were...friends," she spoke tersely, "we went out a few times, I didn't know he was being that serious about it."
"Like you weren't with me," I said, "I know."
"Haakon - " she started, but didn't go further than speaking my name, as if she'd forgotten what she wanted to say.
"It's the past," I said, I don't want to think about it too much."
"It's still...bad...what happened."
"Two boys, one girl, nobody capable of making any decisions," I said, "guess Mason decided for us all by trying to smack my teeth in when he realized what was going on."
"He had no right to hit you," she said, "that's wrong."
"Maybe I deserved it," I said, "stealing my best friend's girlfriend behind his back."
"I wasn't Mason's girlfriend!" she yelped.
"Yeah, that's the problem," I said, "Nobody knew what was going on, and then things got out of paw."
In my face, that was, too.
"I'm sorry about that," she said.
She did look miserable. Maybe she deserved it, too. Suited her better than the hysterics she had thrown after the punch incident.
"So that's it, then," I said, "better not worry about it too much."
"But I'm still sorry about...about all that..."
"It's all over now, Jessica," I said, "it's not going to change by us apologizing to each other again and again."
"I know, but still..."
"What else do you want?" I asked. "Do you want me to apologize for being with you?"
"No!" I could hear her tail shuffling against the back of her seat.
"So what is it then?"
Her little paws clutched the coffee.
"I was just wondering...since...since everything's fine now...if we...if we...maybe went out some night, maybe?" she spoke. "Just as friends...you know..."
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