On and Off The Ice

After their first loss on the road trip, his coach took him aside and had a long talk with him; not as player to coach but more as man-to-man. Sean had tried to brush it off, but found he did need to talk to someone impartial to it all.

"Have you tried just calling her?" Coach asked at one point.

Sean shrugged. "She told me not to."

Coach laughed and smacked him on the shoulder. "You always do what people tell you?"

Again, Sean merely shrugged.

"Don't tell me you're so superstitious that you won't even call your girl if she tells you not to?"

Something about Coach's question got through to Sean then and he scowled. Was that it? He was afraid that calling her would jinx their relationship? It was a staggering thought and he didn't like it one bit. He thanked Coach for the conversation and skated off to practice before the game the following night.

It was a terrible road trip. He couldn't focus no matter what he did. Coach tried talking to him again, then he tried lecturing him, and the other players started to get on his case. He managed a couple lucky goals during one game in New York but nothing spectacular. The press was beginning to pick up on it and during the interviews in the locker room, he was bombarded with questions about losing his edge.

Then someone asked him about Amelia.

"Would you say Amelia Clarke's absence from these games is affecting your concentration?" the reporter asked from right in front of Sean following a loss in New Jersey.

There seemed to be a collectively indrawn breath around the room. Everyone fell silent and Sean narrowed his eyes at the reporter.

"I think that isn't a relevant question," he replied in a flat tone.

Well, didn't that just open the flood gates. Suddenly they were all firing questions at him about his relationship with her, how it was affecting his game, why she wasn't around, were they broken up? He could only shake his head, deflecting the questions as best as he could. After a short while, Coach stepped in and said that it was enough. The press corps was asked to leave the room.

Left alone in the room with just his fellow teammates, Sean hung his head in his hands, leaning his elbows on his knees. After a long moment, someone sat next to him; Max, whose spot beside him on the bench had been occupied by reporters during the Q&A session.

"Don't let them get to you Sean," he said quietly.

Sean let out a short, harsh laugh and shook his head.

"I'm sure she's doing fine," Max added, patting his teammate on the shoulder.

Jumping to his feet, Sean whirled around to face a surprised Max with a scowl. "I wouldn't know," he snapped. "She couldn't even call me to tell me she arrived safely. Apparently she doesn't care to even let me know if she's ever going to talk to me again." He paused and gave a short laugh, throwing his hands up in the air. "Even the press has figured out that my game sucks because she's not here. I'll tell you something, Max, I don't know if I even care anymore if she's all right."

With that, he stalked from the locker room. He was angry. Angry with the reporter for bringing it up, angry with Max for trying to placate him and furious with Amelia for leaving him in the lurch. He stalked the mostly empty hallway outside the locker room for a long while, fuming. Then he stopped, sat down on the floor with his back against the wall and heaved an enormous sigh.

He'd tried calling Amelia again earlier that day but she didn't answer. Her mailbox was full, so he couldn't even leave a message. He thought back over his time with her and wondered how he could have let himself get so attached. At the time, he'd been happy so he'd thought, where's the harm? Well, here it was; he was desolate, useless and alone in a hallway after letting his team down yet again.

How can I get past this? he wondered, rubbing his closed eyes. I need to get her out of my mind.

He'd been telling himself the same thing for weeks and it was beginning to lose all meaning.

He didn't know what he needed anymore. And that scared the hell out of him.

***

Amelia blinked back tears as she watched the disastrous interview following Sean's loss in New York. She'd been watching the game in her parent's house, with her resting father and inquisitive brother sitting next to her. No one said anything after the 5-2 loss and they didn't mention the questions the reporters had fired at Sean in the locker room. Amelia sighed and stood up, leaving her father and brother in the TV room.

She didn't know what was keeping her from calling Sean and after that display on TV, she felt even more guilty for leaving. She wandered to her guest bedroom and closed the door. As she sat down on the bed, she reached into her pocket and pulled out the pocket schedule for Sean's team. After New York, they had another two road trip games before heading back to Pittsburgh. They'd be in Montreal in another two days and then Toronto two days after that.

Slowly, she ran her thumb over the printed picture of Sean on the front of the schedule, the bright 'C' on his uniform standing out. Sighing again, she tossed the schedule aside and flopped back on the bed. A knock sounded at her door and she told whoever it was to come in.

"Are you all right, honey?" her father asked, seeing her lying across her bed.

"What do you think?" she asked without lifting her head.

Her father shuffled over to the bed and sat down next to her, patting her on the knee. "I imagine you're very confused right now and feeling guilty for ditching your boyfriend to worry about an old codger like me."

"Don't you think I'm a little old for a heart-to-heart about my boyfriend, Dad?" she asked with lifted eyebrows.

He chuckled and shook his head. "You're never too old to me, sweetheart. You'll always be my little girl."

Amelia felt tears well in her eyes again and bit her lip to keep from crying. Her father tugged on her hand until she sat up. He wrapped his arms around her and gave her a surprisingly strong hug. A few tears slipped out and she brushed them aside in frustration.

"I don't know why I'm so upset," she muttered as her father released her. "It's not like we were together for a long time. It wasn't serious."

Her father gave her a look. "You got an apartment in his hometown and traveled with the team to most of their away games. I think that's pretty serious."

"Dad, he's way too young for me!" she blurted out. "It was probably the best thing for me to leave when I did."

"Why? So he could lose enough games to keep them out of the playoffs altogether?"

She glared at him. "He shouldn't be counting on me to be at all his games anyway. He was a superstar before he ever met me. It's all in his head."

"Maybe he needs to hear that from you."

"I don't think he'll ever want to hear from me again, Dad. Not since I've ignored him for the past three weeks."

"Amelia, don't be so stubborn. You care for him and I'm sure he cares for you. You'd be a fool to let this chance slip by."

"What chance, Dad?" she burst out. "What kind of relationship could we possibly have?"

Instead of giving her a direct answer, her father shrugged and smiled at her before standing up. "Maybe you should find out for yourself before giving up entirely. You might be surprised."

Amelia watched him head for the door, a frown on her face.

"There's a game in Toronto that you could make it to," he said over his shoulder as he paused in the doorway. "I'll even pay for the flight."

Amelia rolled her eyes. "You just care about the team winning," she commented, her heart already pounding at the thought of seeing Sean again.

"I care about my little girl," her father replied. "His team winning would just be a happy side effect."

Laughing, Amelia shook her head as her father walked away, leaving her alone with her thoughts again. She wondered if it was true; if her presence at the games affected the way Sean played. Then she shook her head, glancing down at the schedule again. It was Sean believing that she had an effect on his game.

Her father was right; she ought to see him once more, if only to properly end things. She owed him that much at least. If she was lucky, maybe he wouldn't want to end things after all.

Having decided, she stood up and went in search of a phone to book her flight to Toronto.

***

"I have a good feeling about tonight, Kid," Max said to him as they skated next to each other in Air Canada Center.

They were playing in Toronto that night and Sean was trying to keep his head in the game and on the ice. They'd had a narrow victory over Montreal two nights ago and he was beginning to feel that he was getting over his slump. He'd even scored once and assisted twice. He purposefully avoided all thoughts of Amelia, including the memories that swept through him whenever he spotted a coffee shop.

"Yeah?" he said aloud to Max.

"Yeah," Max replied with a nod. He skipped a step ahead and spun around, skating backwards as Sean continued forward. "This is the last game on the road and we've beat these guys so many times, I've lost count."

Sean smiled and reached out with his stick between his hands, giving his teammate a shove. With a grin, Max spun back around and took off across the ice. Sean watched him go as he coasted to a stop near the bench where a couple of the other players were taking a break.

Sean had a good feeling about this game as well. He was moving on and, as much as it pained him to admit it, he could win without Amelia there. He didn't know why he'd let his superstitions get the best of him. Still, he had the tiniest nagging doubt in the back of his mind that stayed with him until they took to the ice later that night for the game.

It started out well enough; he won the initial face-off and they played hard throughout the first half of the period. Then he sort of slipped on one of his shifts and went down for a second. He popped right back up but it was like the fall had jarred something inside him. He wasn't hurt but something just wasn't meshing after that. Then he lost sight of the puck altogether when his teammate Kris sent him a pass. Toronto stole the puck and went on to score twice in three minutes.

What the hell is going on? Sean wondered as he skated off after the period ended. Maybe he really was losing his touch. He couldn't seem to play well no matter who was or wasn't in the crowd.

That was a useless thought. He was letting his own mind get in the way of his game. He couldn't deny it any more. No matter what he told himself, he still worried for Amelia and wanted her close to him. Not for luck, but just because he wanted her.

***

Amelia felt terrible as she watched Sean and his teammates skate off the ice following the first period in Toronto. She was sitting about twenty rows up in the lower section of the arena and she'd cringed with each missed opportunity and turnover. She knew Sean must be furious with his performance so far this game.

As the team made their way along the bench to disappear down the tunnel to their locker room, Amelia rose to her feet, straining to pick out Sean's face. Instead she spotted Max, who was looking right back at her. She smiled, wondering if he was able to see her. Not wanting to call attention to herself, she refrained from waving. Instead she reached into her pocket, ensuring that her cell phone was turned on.

If Max had seen her, she would put money down that he'd be calling her. Her heart lifted at the thought. If Max called her, maybe she could speak to Sean. Then she wondered if that would be a good idea. Her presence might even make things worse. Her gaze drifted to the scoreboard and she chuckled to herself. Sean's team was losing 3-1 already. How much worse could she make it?

Even as the thought crossed her mind and she sat back down, the phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out and answered it.

"What are you doing here?" Max asked her without preamble.

Her heart plummeted. Max didn't sound like his usual friendly, chatty self. Had she destroyed all her chances? "I came to see you guys play," she said, glad that everyone close to her seat had left during the intermission. She at least had some privacy for this conversation.

"To see us lose?" Max asked sharply.

"Of course not. I'm just here to support you all, win or lose."

There was silence on the other end of the line, then she heard a noisy sigh. "Sean isn't doing well, Lia. Have you been watching any games?"

"Every chance I got," she replied honestly.

"Ah, shit," Max swore. "I'm sorry, Lia. How's your father?"

Amelia laughed. "He's fine, Max. I wouldn't be here if he wasn't."

"Then why haven't you called Sean?" Max asked then, point blank.

"I was scared to. I didn't think he'd want to talk to me."

"It's all he's wanted to do since you left. He's been worried sick about you."

At his words, Amelia felt her guilt rise to the forefront and she swallowed around the lump in her throat. "I'm so sorry," she murmured.

"You don't need to apologize to me, Lia," Max told her and she knew that was the truth as well.

Another silence fell between them.

"Listen, I've got to go," Max said a moment later.

"OK," Amelia agreed. "I-" she started to say something but cut herself off. Anything she wanted to say wasn't for Max to hear. She needed to see and speak to Sean.

"Stay for the whole game, OK?" Max told her.

She agreed and ended the call. She looked around herself and saw a few of the people returning to their seats. Down on the ice, the Zamboni circled and she chewed on her lower lip as she watched the big machine move.

A million thoughts ran through her mind; mostly what she might say to Sean, to apologize. Mere words didn't seem like enough to make up for the way she'd just cut herself off from him. She didn't even know if he'd want to talk to her at all.

As the second period started and the players all took to the ice again, Amelia couldn't calm her roiling stomach. All she could do was cheer for her team and hope that she'd have even a single chance with Sean again.

***

Sean still felt off as he skated just before the second period. He couldn't put his finger on it. All through their time in the locker room, he'd been ignoring the coach and instead spent his time running through all the games he'd played in since meeting Amelia. In the end, he still couldn't figure out if her presence affected his play. He thought about the times he'd tied his laces wrong and then gone on to win games, or the times the trainers had misplaced a pad and he'd lost a game.

Does any of it matter? he wondered as he gnawed on his mouth piece and crouched low for the face-off at center ice. As the puck smacked the ice, he lost his train of thought and disappeared into the game for his shift.

Coming off the ice less than a minute later, his mind returned to his previous thoughts.

Am I just using it all as an excuse? he asked himself, catching his breath and swallowing some water. If I have an off night, it's so easy to blame the laces or the pads or the fact that my hat got washed.

The game wore on and before he knew it, he was on the ice for the last shift of the period. The crowd was standing, cheering for the Maple Leafs.

At least they didn't score again, Sean thought as he bent over for another face-off. The score remained at 3-1.

The puck went down and he slid his stick beneath his opponent's, sweeping the puck across the ice to his teammate. He took off across the ice, his vision narrowing as the puck skipped back across the ice towards him. He saw the puck, the expanse of ice and the net. It loomed large in front of him and he swung his stick, acting purely on instinct.

Smack!

The puck sailed through the air. The goalie jerked his arm up a second too late and the water bottle behind him popped off the net as the puck sailed into the mesh.

Sean's arms shot into the air when he realized he'd scored. His teammates sailed into him, embracing him and yelling. They cheered and tapped helmets before skating off for their bench. A few seconds later, the period was over and while some of his teammates headed towards the bench, Sean skated in a wide circle across the ice, grinning like a fool as he removed his helmet. A movement behind the glass across the rink caught his eye and he turned away from the bench to see a woman standing on the other side of the boards.

All Sean saw at first were her bright green eyes. Then the rest of her came into focus; her slight figure, her long dark hair and her beautiful smile. Before he even knew what he was doing, he skated across the ice until he was right in front of Amelia. She was proudly wearing his jersey and grinning at him, her green eyes glistening. She lifted her hands and pressed her palms against the glass, her eyes never leaving his face.

Amelia, he breathed and reached up, touching the glass. Amelia. He lowered his head and pressed his forehead to the glass where her right palm rested on the other side. Heat flooded his body and he didn't feel or see anything else but the woman in front of him.

I'm sorry.

He didn't know if she'd shouted it or not, but he didn't care. He forgave her and fell in love with her all over again.

"Amelia," he mouthed and looked up at her.

She was still holding her hands against the glass and tears lined her cheeks now. Their eyes met again and Sean grinned. Amelia burst out laughing and smacked her hands against the glass, lifting a cheer from all those sitting nearby. The cry rose until Sean couldn't hear anything else. But he saw her lips move and knew he'd be OK.

Win or lose, she loved him too.

***

They won the game and Amelia was elated, even though she knew it had nothing to with her. Sean didn't score another goal in the third period but his team came together, ending it with a 5-3 lead.

After the display they'd put on for the crowd and for the hundreds of flashing cameras, the game had shifted. People around her cheered for Sean and his team and when the game ended, her neighbor had lifted her off her feet in a bear hug. She laughed and hugged the enormous man back, so happy for Sean and the others.

A little while later, while she wandered the arena, killing time until Sean was done in the locker room, Amelia wondered what the fallout from their little display might be. The cameras had been turned in their direction the entire time but Amelia didn't care. She was just so glad to have seen Sean again, to see the love in his eyes and to know that they had a chance after all. She hadn't ruined everything and she was glad that every photographer in the arena had captured the moment for them.

She grinned as she turned and headed towards the locker rooms, ready to brave the throngs of reporters. She'd walk through fire to get to Sean now; nothing was going to keep her from him again.

Max was the first player she saw and he grinned broadly at her. His expression turned the reporters' attentions away from him and they all swiveled around to see the reason for his smile. Then she was surrounded by the press, dodging the microphones being shoved in her face and trying to answer the questions as best as she could.

"Hey," a familiar voice called over the din a few minutes later. "Can I get in here?"

The crowd of reporters parted, giving Amelia a glimpse of Sean, her Sean, before he moved forward and swept her up into his arms. Her body protested at his viselike grip but she hugged him back as hard as she could, savoring the strength of his arms around her. Flashes went off around them and the reporters continued to ask questions as Sean set her back on her feet with a brief touch of his fingers to her cheek. Then they faced the press together and after a couple minutes, the coach broke in, saying that the question period was over for the night.