Title: Collapsed in Love Chapter 8: Hope You're Happy
Author: Foxy Finn ([email protected])
Rating: PG-13 for swearing
Archive: @ my site http://www.geocities.com/foxy_finn44/
Category: Sports, RPS, NHL, Edmonton Oilers, Comrie/York
Feedback: Feed my addiction
Summary: Eric keeps his distance.
Author's Note: Today was my day off, so I decided to do some writing. Hoorah for me.

Which of the bold face lies will we use?
I hope that you're happy
You really deserve it
This will be best for us both in the end

Dashboard Confessionals
Hope You're Happy

I kept my eyes low as I did a few final stretches during the last few minutes before game time. It was hard to concentrate on what I was doing, though.

I couldn't ignore the look that Eric gave Mike over my shoulder before the game. It churned up doubts and suspicions in my mind that knocked my focus completely off track. The automatic reflex of getting ready for the game took over my body, but my mind kept going over the brief eye contact that Eric shared with Mike. Eric was telling Mike something with his eyes that they both knew about.

The few moments Mike and I had alone were starting to seem suspicious, the more I think about it. He looked so sincere when we were talking. We needed that. We needed something that would get us focused into the game, allowing us to set aside the awkward misgivings that seemed to dog us. It would've worked, if Shawn hadn't come to tell me that my brother was here.

Paul has become something of an enigma these past weeks. He seems to have distanced himself from dad, which I find hard to believe. He's been to our place a few time, and didn't have any major problems with Mike. But we haven't really talked. Paul and I haven't had a real conversation since my amnesia. I think he likes to believe it never happened.

I like to believe it never happened every once in a while. I still have occasional feeling that Mike wants someone else. Maybe that's why he's been acting weird. He's not really doing anything behind my back, he just wants what he let slip away.

Shawn tapped on the knee, making me jump.

"Mikey, time to get going." He said. I blinked, realizing I'd been standing my place just staring at nothing for a few seconds.

I nodded, following him across the rink.

"You find out what Paul wanted?" He asked.

I shook my head. "No, he left."

Shawn narrowed his eyes. "Eric didn't know anything?"

I shrugged. "Said he didn't."

Shawn frowned. "Weird."

I couldn't argue with that. We went back into the dressing room, and I did my best to get my head on straight.

I knelt on the ice when Ken came out with the towel. Mike circled me, looking more worried than I had seen him in a while. He looked like he was forcing himself to be worried, like it took so much effort to look concerned. He was there to help me up and off to the bench. There was only a small amount of blood, so I'd be ready to go in a few seconds.

I rubbed my neck with the towel, glad that I had such a well-defined chin.

"Are you going to be alright?" Mike asked. I knew he wanted to touch me, to reassure me, but he was on the other side of the boards.

I nodded, lifting the towel for a second. I cleared my throat. "Yeah, I think so."

Crawford had called a time out. Vancouver would be down one man for four minutes and they still had to come back from a one-goal deficit. Craig took the time to strategize, and waiting for me to recover. I knew I'd be back out there, so the adrenaline quickly overcame the pain.

Mike eyed the cut when I lifted the towel again. "Are you sure?"

"Quit acting like you care so much." I snapped, angrily. I don't know why I said it. Maybe it was because I was frustrated with how that stupid look Eric gave him before the game was still bothering me. It was hurting my play on the ice, but it didn't look like it was bothering him.

I sure surprised him.

The look that came over his face was an indescribable mask of shock and hurt. He's always so calm, even when we are arguing; he hardly raises his voice. But at that moment, I knew he wanted to smack me.

The ref blew the whistle, but he still lingered by the bench for a few seconds. He turned sharply and skated away. I watched him, holding the towel back to my neck.

Craig tapped me on the shoulder a few seconds later, "Ready to go?"

I nodded, tossing the towel on the ground. "Yeah."

He looked at the cut, then nodded. "Next stoppage, you're on."

It was like no one heard me say anything to Mike, or saw the look on his face when he skated away. Maybe if they opened up their eyes they would've seen me jab into his heart.

Cloutier made the save on a shot from Todd, on the point. He held on, and I skated out to join the power play.

Mike glared at me as I set up for the face off. He didn't have to say anything; I could read that look. I rarely saw it, but I knew what it meant. It meant that I'd crossed the line.

Eric buzzed next to me for a second. "Careful, Mike." Eric saw, but did Eric really care? He took his place, and I was only able to hold his eyes for a second before I had to turn back.

Focus, I had to focus.

I took the face off, winning it and passing it off to Eric on reflex. Eric and Todd had the points; Ryan, Mike and I were in deep.

Eric and Todd passed it back and forth, waiting for us to set up. Finally, Eric wristed the puck towards the net. It deflected off a leg and into a corner. Mike and I both went for it, trying to dig it free from the two Vancouver defenders.

We were angry, so we didn't communicate. We were angry, so we didn't want to pass to each other. We were angry, so we were stupid.

I heard Ryan calling for it out front, and tried to get it out to him. But since Mike was ignoring me, and I was ignoring him, we were both trying to do the same thing. We were fighting each other more than the other players.

Some one shoved me, sending me crashing into Mike. We both landed hard on the ice; the puck sent flying down ice. It ricocheted off the boards, and up into the netting. Mike was still glaring at me when we both started to get up.

"For fuck sakes, Mike." He yelled at me, pushing me away. He got up to skate off, but I hooked him with my stick and he fell right back down.

We both knew the game was still going on around us. I could feel and see everything. I heard everyone shouting at us to move, but I couldn't. I felt frozen by the biting glare he shot at me when he got to his feet. His green-gray eyes had never looked at me like that. I knew that I was looking at him fiercely, but inside everything was breaking. We just stared at it each other, everything else blurring away.

Maybe that look was bothering him, and he was just hiding better than I did.

He finally opened his mouth, saying words that came from no where and were only to hurt me. "I know you slept with Eric."

"It's your fault." Just as quickly, I shot back.

"My fault you like to pick fights?" He said, his voice picking up volume. "I don't think that's my fault."

"No!" I yelled. "You're the one who just lets me leave! It's like you want me to leave!"

"Yeah, I want you to leave and sleep with Eric. That's exactly what I want!" He shouted at me.

"Fuck off." I clenched my stick, trying to hold my hands down. "I don't know what you fucking want anymore!"

He started for me and I froze. But Eric was suddenly in between us. He kept us apart, but he was the last person I wanted in between us.

I shoved away from them both, skating off. I didn't want to be on the ice anymore. I wanted to be away from all of this. Tears sprung to my eyes. It was hard to fight them off. I reached the bench, waiting to get yelled at. Everyone was staring at me. Why were they staring?

Warm, my neck was warm. I started to feel lightheaded. I didn't realize it until Ken was standing next to me with a towel against my neck.

~End Chapter Eight

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