Changing Positions (Brooks Haven Bears 3)

Chapter 9 - Crush

Emily

Hans takes off, leaving me reeling. His goodbye feels so final. What’s so wrong about trying to see where it goes with Enzo? I’ve never been brave enough to hang out with a boy who’s not Jason, Lance, or Hans. I want to know what it’s like.

Now that the opportunity is here, I’m not sure I want it.

But I have to take it.

Right?

Jason and Lance left for the NHL. They’re 22 and 23, and don’t want to spend much time with me. Hans has been avoiding me and has openly said goodbye. I guess I hoped that watching his game will let him see I support him just as he supports me, and s**t, I messed it up; didn’t I? I looked like I was there for Enzo, which I should be, but I really just like having Hans around.

I want him around.

The phone in my hand remains silent. There’s no life in it, either. No buzz. Is it okay to just tell Hans that while I want to check where this little crush on Enzo goes, I want him there, too?

It’s an admission that has come too late. If I were a normal girl, I would have cajoled him into coming with us. After all, we’re supposed to feel like a family of some sort. I’ve known him all my life and spent most of my holidays with him and the rest of our extended gang of crazy characters. From the moment I gained awareness, Hans was already part of my life. But deep inside me, I know why I didn’t try to change his mind. The past few weeks have felt different. Being with him no longer feels like it was before. It’s now tense and yet I want it–that tension. The way he watches me has changed, too, and I’m pretty sure he can see that the way I look at him isn’t like before, either. He thinks I hate him. I want to. Who can take so much of his sunshine when I have to battle my gloom all the time?

Tonight, though, I made him go on to the other side. I hate how I had to see his grumpy side. If he’s going to say goodbye, I at least want to see his sunshine again because, if I’m being honest, hate is the last thing I feel for him. Then again, goodbyes can’t exactly be forever between the Parks and the Bloms. It’s just not going to be the same again.

“Emily, you coming?” Enzo’s voice takes me back to reality and I realize I’ve been staring at the space where Hans has long vacated.

“Yeah,” I say, my voice sounding weak even to myself. “I-I don’t think I can stay for long, though, and I don’t have a car.”

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll drive you whenever you need me to take you home. I’m not going to drink tonight.”

Enzo is kind and handsome. I like how he looks me straight in the eye whenever possible. His eyes are warm and brown, with dark lashes curling at the end. At a glance, you’d think he’s wearing a guy-liner, but it’s all naturally him. It gives him an intense look, but he’s too easy-going to be scary. Too friendly. It’s why he and Hans get along. They may look drastically different from each other, but they have the same vibe. Generally. I’m praying tonight is a one-off.

“Okay. Thanks.”

I tentatively follow him. Walking side by side and too close feels like a couple thing to do. I’m not sure. I’ve never been the other half of one. Even though he’s cute, I don’t feel like closing the gap between us. I think of Stacey on Hans’ lap, and feel a burst of irrational anger. How do some girls do that? How is it so easy for them? Enzo slows down when he notices my pace.

“You okay? You know you don’t have to come if you’re tired, or if you wanna go somewhere else,” he says, his voice kind and his eyes probing.

“I really want to go. The guys don’t usually bring me to these things, although Celeste and the girls do. They take good care of me.”

Enzo nods as if he understands, as we walk slowly toward the parking lot to a shiny red Mustang. He knows who “the guys” are, without me saying the names. Of course. Who doesn’t?

The drive that follows is awkward, with him glancing my way from time to time, trying to get some small talk in. I fiddle with my phone, strangely hoping for it to buzz in my clammy hands. Teen mags say that I’m supposed to forget everything else when I’m with the guy I like, but it’s so far not happened. Maybe I’m overthinking it.

“I was a fan of your brother and his friend, you know,” Enzo says quietly.

I laugh. Jason and Lance are great, but they aren’t often the newsmakers and dazzlers.

“I’m not kidding, Emily. Jason’s great at teamwork. He never tries to take the spotlight from someone else.”

His words make me feel cold and then hot all over. I remember why I’m a little mad at Hans. I didn’t clap as hard for him tonight because his behavior pissed me off. He shouldn’t have taken risks that could have affected the whole team. He should have passed the puck to Enzo. The worst thing about it is that it didn’t feel like him at all. I had never seen him play like that before.

“It wasn’t like him at all,” I mumble.

“What did you say?” Enzo asks, frowning but remaining focused on the road.

“Nothing.”

“Lance was alternate captain. Yeah, I have to admit Carter was the better player, but Lance was also one of the first draft choices when they were freshmen.”

I believe Lance needed to tame his confidence, bordering on arrogance, and I think he’s somehow changed for the better when he turned pro. It has something to do with being humbled when he first set foot on pro ice. His transition wasn’t quite as shaky as Jason’s, but he was obviously trying to adjust and having a hard time. He’s okay now. Both he and Jason have found their footing.

Hans has almost the same brand of confidence, but he uses his brain more. His move today made me think of Lance.

“Hans should be leaving Brooks Haven to go pro, but it looks like he’s sticking around for the Frozen Four,” I remind him. I don’t know why I’m defending Blom from an imaginary attack. I feel like Enzo’s checking if I saw how seemingly selfish Hans’ move was at tonight’s game. “I don’t think he wants to let you all down.”

“Hey, yeah, I understand that. I’m not talking about how Blom played tonight. We already gave him crap about that in the locker room. He was more likely just a little rattled about being so close to being pro, and having scouts checking on him again after a period of silence. The first couple of periods were also unexpectedly rough tonight. I really do just admire your brother’s way of staying under the radar while also having a great record with assists. It has nothing to do with Hans,” Enzo insists.

I fall silent. So, scouts stopped checking Hans’ games for a while? I hadn’t really noticed. I was too caught up in my internal drama for the past couple of years. Enzo lets me be as we approach Icers. As he backs the car into the last parking space, right between two big trucks, I finally find my voice.

“Jason had a hard time during his first few months going pro,” I admit.

“But he did a lot better. I watched his last game.”

I’m not sure Enzo knows that Jason’s gameplay depends on our mother’s moods. He takes her episodes seriously, and even though he doesn’t have the condition, he worries a lot. Mom has been doing great. Her firstborn child moving away has done a number on her. She’s just found her new rhythm lately, and I know she’s now excited about her son’s impending visit.

“Yeah, we’re happy.”

Mom? Ecstatic.

Dad? Excited but wary.

Me? I just want stability.

When we enter Icers, Enzo takes my hand. I instinctively pull away and I see the hurt in his face. He quickly fixes his expression as we walk to his teammates’ table side by side. Again, I lag behind, taking in everyone’s faces. They seem happy to see me. Some are a little confused, and it’s easy to guess why. The captain isn’t here.

“So, I would have expected Hans to bring Emily here,” Riddick, the new goalie, remarks. He looks at me curiously. It makes me bite my fingernails, a habit I don’t enjoy doing right out in the open.

“He’s tired. I think he wants to go see his physical therapist about his shoulder,” I say.

The moment the words leave my mouth, I think of how Hans must feel like hell right now. He’s in a lot of pain, and I’ve decided to pursue a crush instead of making sure he’s on his way to his physical therapist.

A crush that no longer feels like one.

A crush who’s looking at me curiously.

One I may have led on, even for just little bit.

It seemed like a great idea at first, but I still feel no sparks. Enzo may be good for group dates and easy conversation, but not for anything serious. There’s nothing wrong with sending a few texts over to Hans’ way while we wait for our orders. I’m the only girl on a table with hockey guys. My mother would be horrified. My father would be disappointed. And my brother? He isn’t here for now, but Hans is right. He won’t like it, and Lance will take his side, not his cousin’s.

ME: You okay?

HANS: I’m getting PT.

ME: Where?

HANS: At home.

ME: I’ll come over.

HANS: Not a good idea.

My imagination goes on hyper-drive. What if he’s lying? What if Stacey is there with him right now? There’s no reason for him to lie about that. He made me see her on his lap at her party. It’s not my business, but somehow, I want it to be.

I’ll just spend maybe ten minutes over here, eat some fries, and drink some soda, and call it a night. I’ll ask Enzo to drive me to the convenience store halfway between my apartment and Hans’. For some reason, I don’t want him to know where I’m going. It makes me feel stealthy, and a bit bad.

“You alright?” Enzo asks, as my conversation tapers down after the predetermined ten minutes.

“Yeah. I think I need to, um, buy some women’s supplies. Can you drive me to the Kwik-Trip near my apartment? You know where it is, right?”

“Of course. s**t. I should have asked if you were okay,” he says, looking embarrassed.

“I’m okay, right now, anyway,” I say, giving my story a little boost. I’ve just gotten my period last week, but he doesn’t need to know that. He thinks I have an emergency. I’m a little worried that the lies are flowing so easily. “And you did ask me if I was okay, and I said yes. This one’s on me.”

In less than ten minutes, Enzo drops me at the convenience store. He wants to stay, but I tell him I’d rather shop on my own and promise that I’d text him as soon as I’m home.

Or at Hans’. Ugh. I’m not liking my new persona as a lying b***h.

Five minutes after Enzo drives off, I leave the convenience store with paracetamol and Hans’ favorite snacks. After another five minutes, I’m at his door. It’s when doubt crashes over me.

What the hell am I doing?

Is it an episode?

I think back to my last dosage. Nothing seems to be amiss, except my heart is pounding so fast. It’s how I expected to feel when I was with Enzo. I reason that the subterfuge and running have me feeling all sorts of excitement. That must be it.

I ring the doorbell.

“Emily? Why are you here?”

“You know. Thought I should come over. The people at reception also know me very well, although I think they were looking at me a little strangely this time.”

“Maybe because you came at what? Almost eleven o’clock? Come inside. Where’s Lorenzo, by the way? Did he at least drive you over here? Did he do anything to you?”

He seems pissed.

“Blah, blah, blah. Of course, not. He was a perfect gentleman, but I’m curious about you and tonight’s behavior. Curious enough to come over here. You do have a spare room if you’re too tired to walk me home to the other side?”

Hans looks at me. The anger I saw from earlier is gone. His expression is softer and his mouth parts. I chew my lower lip. Like on the night we had pizza, he follows the movement with his eyes.

“No? Never mind. I’ll walk.”

“You’ll stay,” he says, and his voice sounds so different. It’s like he’s finding it hard to swallow. “But the spare room is taken.”

Huh?

A gorgeous girl with long, shiny black hair flashes in my mind. Stacey? But why a spare room if they’re spending the night together? The physical therapist? I don’t think they sleep at their clients’ quarters, ever.

“Explain this to me, Blom,” a male voice interrupts my thoughts. It’s a very familiar voice.

“Told you there’s something about Blom and your sister,” the other voice says, sounding smug.

Behind Hans are two of the most obnoxious people in the world. Jason and Lance.