Page 22 of Strange Love

His tone changed as he continued, “What about that little doll I allowed you to keep when you arrived? Do you still have it?”

My heart begins to race as I try to devise a convincing lie. Why was he asking about the doll? Did he know about my notes hidden under the mattress?

Desperate to deflect, I responded, “No, I got rid of it a while ago.” But I knew he didn’t believe me. The tension between us grew as we both knew I was lying.

He nodded slowly, his eyes dark and unapologetic. “That’s good,” he said, flicking a stray piece of lint off his tailored suit. “Such items are trivial. You don’t need to be thinking about your life from before, Ivy. I assure you no one is thinking about you.” His words cut like a dull knife. The pain sears through my chest as I swallow thickly to stifle the tears that threaten to break through. “You may allow visitors now,” he added with a self-satisfied grin.

Later that night, I cried myself to sleep, but for different reasons. What if Auron was right? What if life has gone on without me? What if everyone has forgotten about me? Are they better off with me gone?

I didn’t hum or sing “Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go” the next day or the days after. I felt defeated and as if I should give up and surrender to my new reality.

Chapter 14

“Heartbreaker”

Corey - Age 18, 1988

We had a decent game this week, only a four-hour trip away, so I was back on campus by midweek, which is normal for us. My body is sore and moving slower than usual after taking a hard hit on the boards during the game. My shoulder popped out of place, but thankfully the trainer was able to manipulate it back in. It’s still swollen and stiff today, so I’ve been icing and taking medication to reduce inflammation. I could’ve taken the day off, but I felt extra motivated to get to my English class.

I open the heavy classroom door and scan the room for my friends. My eyes land on Ivy, sitting in her usual spot with her legs crossed, flipping through a notebook. I make my way over to her, playfully kicking her shoe as I pass by. She peeks up at me, and a small smile plays across her lips.

Taz, who is already deep into a story about our latest hockey game, gives me a nod as I approach.

“So we’re up 5-1 and cruising,” he says, gesturing wildly. “But then Delzy decides to show off, so he chases down their winger and steals the puck right off his stick. Next thing you know, this guy slams into Delzy and dislocates his shoulder.”

I wince at the memory as Taz continues his animated retelling. “And what does this psycho do? He tells the trainer to pop his shoulder back in place so he can keep playing!”

As I sit down and drop my backpack onto the ground with a loud thud, I can see Ivy subtly turning her head to eavesdrop on our conversation from her spot in front of us.

Sometimes, my instincts take over during a game, and I make risky plays, much to Coach’s dismay. After ensuring I was okay, he lectured me for thirty minutes on how taking unnecessary risks hurts the whole team.

“You’re a fucking maniac, Dude,” Taz laughs, his booming voice echoing through the classroom as he nudges my shoulder. A sharp pain shoots through me, and I wince, causing Taz to apologize.

“Shit, sorry,” he says, patting my back in a comforting gesture.

Amber slides in behind me, her hands landing on my tense shoulders. “Poor baby,” she coos, “Let me take care of those knots for you.”

My body tenses at her touch, and I jerk away from her. The movement may have been quicker than any move I’ve made on the ice. “Don’t,” I warn her firmly.

Amber’s mouth drops open in surprise, and pouts, “Oh, I’m sorry. Did that hurt?”

The irritation in my tone is evident as I reply flatly, “No. I don’t want you touching me.”

Amber’s expression changes from shock to hurt as she sits down silently. I glance at Ivy, who is trying unsuccessfully to stifle a laugh. I didn’t do it for her benefit. I don’t want Amber or any girl thinking they can put their hands on me whenever they want. When I hang out with a girl, it’s a mutual decision, and I make it clear that it’s short-lived. Sometimes, I’ll spend as much as a couple of weeks with someone, but that’s the farthest it’s ever gone. No one meets any parents, and no labels are assigned. Anyone who knows me knows that hockey is my top priority, and I prefer discretion in my personal life.

Corey, Age 16 - 1986

The phone ringing pulls me out of my thoughts, and I scurry to answer it on the second ring. “Hello.”

“Hey, Delzy,” Taz greets me with his usual enthusiasm. “What’s up, Man?”

Taz is known as the Tasmanian Devil on the ice, with his wild and relentless style of play. If anyone other than me makes it to the pros, it will be Taz. That is if his wild streak doesn’t get him into trouble.

“What’s the plan for tonight?” he continues.

Even though he can’t see me through the phone, I shrug. “No plans. Why?”

“My Dad’s out of town, and my brother is throwing a party at our place. You should come.”