One Step Too
Far
Chapter
3: You Know What They Say...
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“Love me when I least deserve it, because
it’s then I’ll need it the most.”
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They think I don’t know what’s going on when I’m not around, but believe me, I know.
I keep track of twenty-three hockey-players twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week and so on. It’s my job to know where they are all the time, if they are in trouble, if they need my help.
For every player, there are thousands of things to remember. I know them all, and I know every basic thing there is to know about them. Averman’s sisters are ten and three years old. Sarah’s brother died when she was eight. Scott is born in New York. Julie has a birthmark on her shoulder. Luis’s sister Veronica is married to a lawyer.
Things like that.
Like I don’t know that they go behind my back to sneak out after curfew. I don’t always follow the rules either. I’m not stupid enough to think that they are all sleeping tight in their beds a Saturday night.
At least my closest friends don’t do things like that. They are the worst ones on the team, but at least they don’t sneak behind my back. Like some people do.
So that’s why I get upset when bad things occur. They are my friends, my players. They are my responsibility, and if something happens to them, Coach Bombay would immediately ask where I was at the time.
Not like they would tell on me, but I would know that I didn’t do my job right. I would feel bad, and I would hate myself for not being there when they needed me.
I’m the leader of the pack, and you have no idea how much it hurts when something goes wrong. I’m the leader, so I should look after the others, even if they’re older then I am, and especially if they’re younger then me.
That’s what I do, that’s who I am.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Guy pushed the door opened to Charlie’s room. He was surprised it was opened; both Charlie and Fred usually locked the door, even if they were there. Well, once every six months wasn’t a crime.
“Hello? Are you here?”
A pillow came flying towards him, and he quickly jumped out of the way. Charlie stuck his head out from under his cover. “I didn’t throw that one.”
“What’s up? Connie are looking for you, but I said I’d go get you.”
Fred mumbled something from his bed. He was crawled up in a pile under his blanket, nothing but his hand showing. “Could you tell little Ms. Hyper that I died? Maybe she’d leave me alone then.”
“Hey, she’s my girlfriend,” Guy said. “Don’t be mad at her just because you’re... What are you?”
“I have a hang-over, thank you very much,” Fred growled. “And Connie’s my friend, so I’ll call her whatever I want. Christ, I was even briefly married to her, remember?”
“How could I?” Guy muttered and picked up the pillow from the floor.
“And may I please ask why I can’t call your girlfriend hyper, when you call my girlfriend lots of bad things.”
“Your girlfriend has a crush on me, that’s not my fault,” Guy explained. “She follows ME around everywhere, so don’t even try to make that my fault.”
“Connie follows me around too,” Fred pointed out.
Guy shrugged. “She has a thing for charity. I thought you had a hang-over.”
“I do!” Fred exclaimed. “I’m surprised that you don’t feel worse then you do. But I guess I’m the only one to always get to feel like I’d gotten stuck in a washing-machine.”
“You’re the only one who drinks like your life depended on it,” Charlie said. “Maybe you should cool it?”
Fred rolled down from bed and shook his knap-sack around. “I know my limit, get off my back.”
“Fine,” Charlie replied. “But don’t say that I didn’t warn you.”
“I’ll write about it in my memoirs. Does anyone have any aspirin?”
Guy leaned against the wall. “Limit, huh? What’s your limit then?”
“A lot,” Fred snapped.
“So why did you get drunk then?”
“Biology.”
“Was it that last drink?”
Fred stood up and gave Guy an annoyed look. “No, one of the last twenty drinks. Hard to tell exactly which one,” he replied. “Was there anything more?”
Both Guy and Fred stepped away from each other, and Charlie took a deep breath of relief. Was there one thing he knew, it was that Fred shouldn’t be questioned when he was in a bad mood. Actually, you were better off leaving him alone completely.
“How much did you drink?” Charlie asked, reaching down into his drawer.
“Why?” Fred hissed.
“If you don’t tell me, I won’t give you my aspirin,” Charlie said and threw the jar up in the air. “How’s it gonna be?”
Fred gave Charlie a threatening look and then he went over to the other side of the room. “I can’t remember how much I drank, because then it wouldn’t have done its purpose, right? I drank more then you did, and probably more then I should’ve, but it’s my business.”
“Fine, if you want to keep telling yourself that it’s for the best, do that. What do I care?” Charlie growled, tired of being Fred’s conscious. “I actually have other things to do then to keep you out of trouble. You’re not the only one on the team I have to deal with.”
“So?”
“God, you’re so immature sometimes,” Charlie sighed. “It’s really obvious that you’re one year younger then us.”
Fred shrugged again and went over to the bathroom. “Well, at least I know how to live. I don’t waste my time taking care of people who clearly doesn’t want help.”
“You just waste your time drinking, so you can forget what you spent your time doing. You waste an awful lot of time keeping Cecilia out of trouble, but none to take care of yourself,” Charlie muttered. “At least I try to help everyone in need. If Cecilia wasn’t such a lost case, maybe you wouldn’t have to waste your time on her, right?”
Charlie tossed the jar to Fred, and Fred slammed the door closed to the bathroom. “I think that’s his soft spot,” Charlie closed his eyes.
“Aspirin?”
“Cecilia.”
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Portman sat down next to Adam in the cafeteria. “You know what I’ve realized?”
“What?” Adam said, busy reading the milk-carton.
“This team ain't any fun without Fulton. You are all a bunch of whining wussies.”
“Okay.”
“I’m serious. When is Fulton coming back?”
Adam took a bite off his sandwich and chewed carefully. Then he took a sip of his milk, while waiting for Portman to leave him alone. “You know,” he began. “I actually have no idea. Ask Charlie, he knows.”
“He doesn’t even know where Travis is!”
“Give him some credit, he keeps track of everything else,” Adam replied. “You want a piece of my sandwich, or are you gonna leave me alone?”
Portman grabbed Adam’s collar and pulled him closer. “I want some answers, damnit. Or I’ll take both the sandwich and your blood.”
“Technically, you can’t take all of my blood, because then you’d have to drain me or something. Are you a doctor, maybe?” Adam smiled and pulled free. “Calm down, Portman. Fulton is in Minnesota with his family, and he’ll be back when he’s back from his vacation with his sister. I’d guess it would take another two weeks.”
“Ah, man,” Portman moped. “Two weeks? That’s a whole month away!”
“You mean that it’s gonna be August when he comes back?”
Adam watched as Portman went back to the hallway, this time with Adam’s sandwich as a hostage. Just as he’d left the room, Cecilia came strolling in through the same door. She sat down on the chair right opposite to him.
“Hey.”
“What’s up?” he asked. “Charlie said that you had a head-ache.”
“Too much alcohol,” she mumbled and put her head on the table. “Wake me up when it’s time for school to start again, Adam.”
Adam didn’t bother answering, since he knew it wouldn’t make much of a difference. Talking to Cecilia was like speaking to a mirror sometimes. She only said what she knew he wanted to hear, and only answered the opposite to what she felt. One of the problems of being friends with a weird person.
Adam closed the book he was reading and nudged Cecilia with his pen. “Cee? Are you dead?”
“No, but I’m close to, so don’t disturb me any further.”
Adam looked up and saw Fred approach them. “Your girlfriend is talking about killing herself again,” Adam notified him.
Fred sat down next to her and slapped her head with his hand. “Ouch, that hurt!” Cecilia complained without moving an inch.
“Well, behave, and I won’t do it again,” Fred smiled and kissed her on the cheek. “Sorry, are you injured badly?”
“Yeah!” Cecilia exclaimed and moved away from him, still with her head on the table. “You’re that evil person who lured me last night. You’re the reason I have a hangover. You’re mean.”
Adam decided to not listen to the following conversation. Idiocy made a better impression when it didn’t have an audience, like Guy had said once.
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