See Me

"Promise that you'll try calling before the next time you drive three hours to visit, ok?" I asked with an amused smile before adding,

"Not that I don't love seeing you, it just surprised me."

"Not a problem." JoAnn assured me with a grin. Raising her two index and middle fingers to her forehead in a salute, she continued,

"No more surprise visits, I promise."

"Good." I nodded tightly. As soon as the word left my mouth, tears welled up in my eyes and my next sentence came out in a choked whisper.

"I'm going to miss you." Seeing her again almost made the fact she was gone worse. More than ever, I realized how much I needed her strength, her support.. her friendship.

"Right back at'cha." JoAnn folded her arms around my shoulders in a hug. "There certainly isn't anyone like you at my new school. They're all snobby, Brittany Spears wannabes, I swear. You've gotta come to salvage my sanity some time."

"Deal." I giggled despite my tears, hugging her harder. "I'm sure you'll warp them in a few weeks, just wait."

"Ahh yes. My day of sweet revenge will come soon.." She cocked her head back and laughed maniacally.

"You're such a crackhead." I grinned, leaning against the side of my house.

"Takes one to know one." She tossed over her shoulder as she made her way to her car. Pausing with her hand on the open drivers' side door, she glanced back at me.

"Promise me one thing else." My best friend called.

"Anything." I smiled back at her.

"Talk to Zac. Your problems aren't as bad as they seem."

".. We'll see." Anything but that.

"The two of you could date. A whole love/hate kinda thing."

"Are you still here?"

"You never know, it could work." She assured me, closing the door behind her. After waving good-bye, my shoulders sank.

Anything but that..

Monday afternoon..

"I don't believe this."

Staring unblinkingly at the paper my history teacher had just placed on my desk, I turned the left corner down and squeezed my eyes tightly shut, hoping that magically when I opened them my grade would be different.

Lindsey- I've never seen such poor quality work from a gifted student. See me immediately after class. D

"A... D?" Sure, the paper had been written at the very last minute, not to mention the number of times that I'd fallen asleep working on it, but I deserved a better grade than a D.. didn't I? I've never received lower than a B+ before - until now, apparently.

The entire history lecture passed through one ear and out the other, as my mind remained fixated on my grade. I could sense my teacher shared my apprehension by the concern in his eyes as I approached him after class.

"Lindsey," He started, turning his back to me to erase the lecture notes I'd failed to copy down from the chalkboard. "I don't understand your work. Please tell me you wrote your name by accident on another student's paper."

"No.." I replied slowly. "This is my work."

"You were/are one of my best students in the class. Until that." He turned and faced me, pointing to the paper that lay between my fingers.

"I'm really sorry." I couldn't think of anything else to say. Now I felt terrible.

"I am too." He gazed at me sympathetically. "I was going to nominate you for the school's History Bee team, but I'm not as confident that you know your material."

"Is there any way I could make up the grade?"

At least that part might be salvageable. Joining a guaranteed geek team wasn't as big of a deal to me at the moment.

"Following my policy, you can have your final project count double, replacing your lowest paper grade. I suggest that you start now on your research."

"My research?" I echoed his words.

"For the presentation due in three weeks." He clarified. "We picked topics last week.. remember? I believe you have nursing during the Civil War."

"Oh, of course. I've just been so busy lately, I'm sorry."

Nursing in the Civil War - I signed up for that!? No wonder I didn't remember.

"Don't worry about apologies. Just do a good job and let your work speak for itself."

"I will." Story of my life: as if I had a choice.

"Homework.. What homework don't I have tonight?" I mumbled to myself as I rummaged through my locker. At least something was constant in my life: it was still an absolute mess. Glancing up to the top compartment, I noticed a folded piece of notebook paper on top of the pile of notes I usually stashed up there.

What's this? I unfolded the note in my hands, wondering how many days it had been sitting there.

Lindsey-

I'm not sure how to get ahold of you anymore, so sorry about leaving you a cheesy note. I really need to talk to you. Please, let's work everything out.

-Zac

This is like a bad after school special, was my first thought.

"Oh..." I smacked my hand to my forehead, refolding the note and placing it into my backpack. "I have to go over to his house anyway. To apologize and all."

Rolling my eyes at the promise I'd made to my mom, I slammed my locker shut and hoisted my backpack over my shoulders. Seeing no signs of Zac around, I hoped he was at home. At the same time, a part of me hoped he wasn't, as I made my way outside. As I yanked my bike from the rack, I couldn't help but wonder how weird it was going to be, over at his house again.

"Guess I'll find out when I get there."

After work.. and after practice, my head reminded me as I remembered my temporary switch over to waitressing. It certainly wasn't something I was looking forward to.

"Ohh... " I exhaled loudly as I rushed into Pizza Palace, nearly breathless. As I made my way back into the workers' lounge, which was actually no more than a table and a few chairs, I grabbed a spare apron off a hook in the hallway. After throwing my backpack on the floor, I stripped off my shirt and slipped the polyester-soaked teal uniform over my head. I buttoned the collar quickly, slipped the apron around my waist, and tied the ends with a loose knot. Catching a glance in the mirror at my hair, bound back into a tight bun as usual, I remembered it was about time for a haircut.

Like I could fit it in now, I thought bitterly. It seems like I don't even have time to sleep.

"Hey there, Curly." A voice called out to me as I walked past the kitchen.

"Shut up, Phil." I threw him a grin as I rushed to the sink and quickly washed my hands.

"How's the realm of adolescents treating you, kiddo?" He called from the kitchen.

"Just peachy." I replied sarcastically, drying my hands on my apron and making my way back to the front. Once there, I greeted my other co-worker cheerfully:

"Hey, Karla."

"Hi Lindsey. You have tables five and nine today."

"Only two?" I joked with her, glancing out into the lobby and sighing with relief when I found both tables empty for now. "Come on, I can handle more than that."

"No, you can't." She smiled nonetheless. "I want you to clean up and restock the station here too."

"No problem, Ma'am." I saluted her and grabbed a nearby towel.

At least today's not starting out as bad as last time.

"Bye, Lindsey." Samantha called cheerfully over her shoulder to me, her hand secured casually around Zac's forearm as they left the building. He sent me a look over his shoulder that made me cringe. It wasn't an angry look, a hateful look, or even a pity look. Instead, it was much worse: a yearning look of sadness.

He'd been glancing at me that way the entire time Samantha and him had been here, before their meal, during it, and a few minutes afterward. I wasn't sure what it'd meant, not being able to read him anymore, but it tore me up inside.

Almost as much as it hurts to see him with her. Fortunately, I didn't have much time to think about it, else I'd be late for hockey practice.

"Hey Lindsey." Phil called to me as I walked past him in the kitchen, untying my apron on the way back.

"What's up?" I paused in the doorway.

"I was hoping to ask the same of you." He grinned knowingly.

"Not a whole lot." I eyed him warily, distrusting the grin. "I've got to get to practice so make it quick."

"Just curious about you and the guy you were drooling over today."

"I was not drooling over anyone." I replied haughtily.

"That's not what I saw." He spoke in a sing-song voice. "Come on, the guy with the blonde hair. You know who I'm talking about."

"That's Zac." I clarified. "He's my.. ex-best friend."

"I'm sorry." Phil actually sounded genuinely sorry at this point.

"Thanks." I smiled tightly and turned to get my backpack and clothes from the crew room. "I've gotta go now."

"But I want to hear more about this lucky guy."

"I'll see you later Phil." Grinning at him, internally the last thing I wanted was to finish our conversation.

"I'm not finished.."

"Sorry." I smiled, pausing again. "Please continue."

"As far as your best friend, sounds like someone's a little jealous in that department."

"Jealous?" I asked, frowning. "That's not it at all."

"I'm just calling it how I see it." He smiled innocently.

"You didn't see anything." I retorted.

"Oh, then who was that standing in the middle of the kitchen, planning mental death threats at that girl when she walked up to pay at the register?"

"Samantha?" I asked.

"Whatever her name was." He shrugged.

"She.. stands for everything that I'm against. I'll leave it at that."

"Ok, but it doesn't take an idiot to realize you have feelings for the guy."

"Zac!?" I squeaked. "I do not have feelings for him."

"You just keep telling yourself that, kiddo." I didn't like the way Phil was smiling knowingly at me. Not at all.

"Lindsey.. I need to see you in my office." Coach called to me as I stumbled off the ice after practice. With the season just around the corner, it had been a particularly grueling day; the beads of sweat that made me squirm as they tickled down the back of my neck were more than enough proof of that. With as many weeks long as I've spent in this goalie equipment, I still wasn't used to walking normally in it, let alone trying to guard a net wearing it.

I could only guess that today'd be the day I'd find out I wasn't playing this year. Not that I'd be surprised at all; most people don't play in their first season. So I already knew what was in store for me in my meeting with the Coach.

"Oooooohhh..." A few girls called out to me in a warning voice.

"Hey, knock it off." I grinned at the group heading over to the lockeroom. By now, I'd also gotten to know the rest of the team better, enough to realize how wonderful of a group we had here. I couldn't understand how I hadn't wanted to be part of it, something bigger and more important than just me, just a few weeks ago.

Strange..

"At least he didn't sound too upset." Anne smiled encouragingly at me. Fortunately, her moodiness had calmed, despite her progression into pregnancy. The bulk of her stomach didn't show through her uniform yet though.

"That's true." I replied, leaning my stick against the boards and picking at my skate laces.

"Still.. The season starts next week, so he's bound to be picky at all of us." She added warily. "You more than all of us."

"Me?" I looked up at her with surprise.

"Yup. You are the starting goalie."

"Me?" This was news.

"Who else?"

"What about Heather?" I referred to the girl who normally covered the position. To the best of my knowledge, I wasn't anywhere close to playing, let alone starting.

"She's got more experience than you, I'll say. But you've got more.." She searched for the right word. "... enthusiasm. You get right back up after being down. We need that."

I stood grounded to the spot, my mouth hanging half-open at her praise. While it may have been just another string of words to Anne, they were music to my ears. I felt a tiny twinge in my throat and tried to smile, ironically trying not to let her know how much they meant to me. Besides, I had a meeting with Coach to worry about.

He'll set the record straight, compliments aside.

".. Thanks Anne." I said softly, sending her a smile before heading over to Coach's office.

"Oh, Lindsey?" She called my name after I'd taken a few steps.

"Yeah?" I turned around and noticed her walking toward me.

"You might want to see about getting some better equipment." She spoke in a low tone, as if she didn't want anyone else to hear. Glancing down at the pads and gloves I'd permanently borrowed from Zac, his from two years ago. I noticed for the first time how worn and tattered they were. Since they were relatively comfortable, the thought of replacing them with my own equipment hadn't occurred to me. Sliding my hand around the inside of my left glove, I noticed there was about an inch too much material.

Hmm.. that's a problem.

"Here's the hockey store downtown that I work for. If you stop by after four, I can get you a discount."

"Oh, wow." I took the card between my fingers. "Thanks a lot, Anne."

"No problem. Just make sure you come in before this Wednesday too, because that's when the new league jerseys come out and people will realize they want new equipment to go along with them."

"New jerseys?" I echoed.

"Mmm-hmm." She nodded proudly, her brown eyes sparkling. "I helped pick ours out. No more nasty yellow and orange like we've had for the past three years. Our new ones are gorgeous, you'll love them."

"Wait.. What are we?" I also hadn't even wondered what our team was.

"The Colts, silly." Anne's shoulders bounced as she laughed. "Haven't you ever seen the gigantic painting of the horse in the lockeroom?"

"I wondered why that was there..." I returned the laugh.

"And before I forget." She added. "There's the annual pre-season party at my house Tuesday night."

"Oh.." my voice trailed off as I remembered the last party I'd attended. "I'm not much of a party-person."

"Sorry, it's mandatory."

".. It is?" How weird.

"Yeah. I'll have Meredith give you directions."

"Ok." I sighed, wondering when I would possibly schedule this in. "I might be a little late because I work."

"Whatever, just be there." She smiled tightly.

"All right." I promised her and walked around the rink to Coach's office. Once in the doorway, I rapped lightly on the wooden panel near the doorknob. Coach looked up from his usual seat behind his desk.

"Williams, take a seat." He nodded at my presence.

"What's up?" I asked tentatively. I couldn't remember how many "private meetings" I'd had with Coach and the season hadn't even started yet. I could only guess that this one involved the same topic of discussion: my weight.

"I wanted to discuss your weight issue." Bingo.

"Umm.. What about it?" I bit down on my lower lip.

"Well, you tell me." Coach folded his hands across his lap and eyed me.

"Well.. What would you like to know?"

"How much do you weigh now?"

"I don't know." I replied honestly. Truth was, I had no idea.

"According to your weigh-in last Thursday, you were still six pounds over."

"I was?" Up to this point, I was sick and tired of that number ruling my life.

"Yes." He looked at me for a moment. "But, for the record, your weight is fine."

".. It is?"

"I don't think you understand here, Williams." He placed his hands on the top of his desk. "I am willing to waive the extra weight aside if you promise to loose the six pounds in the next two weeks. You're too much of an asset to this team to cut over six pounds."

"You're kidding." I stared at him. "Just like that, I'm not cut?"

"Just like that."

"You're kidding." I repeated. I must've looked like I'd won a million dollars - I certainly felt like it at the moment.

"I'm not." Coach replied with a smile. "I can tell you've been working hard with this. And the team needs you to start in our first game a week from next Wednesday, if you're up to it."

"I certainly am!" I cried happily.

"Good. I'm going to need 110% from you over the next couple of weeks."

"I'll give you 210%" I returned Coach's smile with a 100-watt grin and left his office.

This is incredible. Wait until I tell.. Then it hit me: I didn't have anyone to tell the good news to.

It's not like Mom and Dad will care, I thought, picking up my skates as I walked back to the locker room. By now, it was completely deserted. The nasty smell that came from my locker as I opened it reminded me that it was a Monday night, so I needed to take my practice clothes home to be washed.

I could tell David, if he's still speaking to me. I plopped down on a bench near my locker and peeled off my sweaty socks. Nah, wait until Saturday.

You could tell Zac.. He used to be your personal hockey fan. A voice in my head reminded me.

"Not tonight, at least." I spoke outloud, glancing at my watch. Given the late hour, I doubted he'd be up for a visit. Especially from me, of all people.

Still.. you promised..