Today marks the last day of our hockey games in gym class, the day I say goodbye to my favourite sport and say hello to snowy weeks of Christmas break. I formed a habit of helping Alistair put away the gym equipment and ignoring the girls who scorn me daily. They watch like hawks from the benches, confirming we’re an official couple, or rather waiting for us to break up. They’re not in luck.
I roll the basket of orange hockey balls into the storage room and into the musty smell of shelves and old equipment Alistair often found comfort in. I push the basket into the hockey net and take a deep breath. My nose contracts, and my face scrunches. A giggle escapes my throat. It really does stink, yet Alistair loves this stench.
Keys dangle behind me, and I look back to see Alistair at the doorw
