Breakaway Read online

“Nice to meet you!” I call back.

  “Go Estevan!” Russell jangles a cowbell over his head.

  “I have to go!” I wave and walk away.

  Mr. Johnstone manages to slide into the dressing room in the wake of our coaches. He’s grinning from ear to ear. He seeks out Kathy immediately. “That goal was a beauty!” Then he singles out each of us for praise until Mrs. Jordan ushers him back through the door.

  The coaches give us about thirty seconds to bask in the glory of our greatness before they start delivering Saturday’s game plan. When they’re done, I take a cue from Mr. Johnstone and make a point of telling each Rookie what she did right.

  “We can’t take Saturday’s game lightly,” I say to Dayna. “They’ll be ready for us.”

  “We’ll be ready for them too,” Dayna says.

  –

  Liam and Russell and my family are waiting for me in the lobby.

  “You’ve got quite the cheering section.” Dad nods his head in Liam’s direction. “You know these boys?”

  “Sort of.” I smile and wave at Liam and Russell, hoping that will appease them.

  Mom gives me a significant look, but she doesn’t say anything.

  “Great game,” Dad says. “Easily your best sixty minutes this year.”

  “Thanks.” Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Liam’s making his way over.

  Oh please.

  At least he’s wearing a jacket now.

  “Jessie, can I talk to you for a minute?” he asks.

  I have no choice but to turn and face him. “What’s up?”

  “I’m having a party out at my place on Saturday. I was hoping you’d come. Most of the other girls said they would.”

  I feel the jaws of a trap pinching me. “I’m not sure what time we’ll get back from Melville. If it’s not too late, then maybe we could.”

  “Great,” he says. “Oh, and Russell has something he’d like to ask you.”

  “Will you sign my jersey?” Russell asks, holding out a Sharpie. His jersey is covered with autographs.

  “I’d be honoured.” On his right shoulder, I carefully write my initials above a Number 13.

  “Liam likes you,” Russell says.

  If I wasn’t blushing before, I am now.

  “Jessie knows that, Captain Obvious.” Liam laughs. “See you Saturday night, Hockey Girl. And good luck in Melville.”

  “Nice fellas?” Dad asks, watching them leave.

  “Too nice,” I reply.

  – Chapter Thirty-one –

  We end up sweeping Melville, winning the second game 3–2 in overtime. Miranda’s in net for this one, and she plays over her head.

  “You are an inspiration,” Bud tells her.

  “I don’t know about you guys,” Carla says, “but my favourite Ebberts’ moment was when she deflected a shot and hit that guy right in the nuggets.”

  She times the remark perfectly with Randi taking a sip out of her water bottle. Randi’s spray reaches halfway across the dressing room, and Kathy has to pound her between the shoulder blades to help her cough up the liquid that went down the wrong way.

  We’re all cracking up. I nearly pee my pants, recalling the expression on “that guy’s” face, as he sat there with a lap full of chicken nuggets.

  We’re back in Estevan by nine o’clock. After a quick shower, I pick up Amber, Kathy and Dayna and head a few kilometres west of town for the victory party at Liam’s place. Apparently he’s got a heated arena, where he’s hosted some epic football parties in the past.

  “It’s an awesome locale, even if Liam’s dad is the party Nazi.” Kathy says. “And you have to give Liam’s mom your car keys when you get there.”

  “You’re kidding me,” I say. “I don’t drink. I’m not giving up my keys.”

  You might need to make a quick getaway, my little voice says.

  “Take the next left,” Kathy says.

  A familiar half-ton is parked at the lane entrance, with two Labs milling in the truck box. A big man climbs out and wanders into the middle of the road, blocking our path. I stop, put Sunny in park, and roll down the window. The man shines a flashlight in my face.

  “Name?” he barks.

  “Jessie McIntyre,” I reply, squinting. “And this is Kathy Parker, Amber Kowalski and Dayna Something.”

  The flashlight swings around, inspecting each of the occupants. I get a closer look at the man who must be Liam’s dad. He’s got craggy, pockmarked features and Liam’s bushy brows, which make him resemble a bird of prey.

  “Head over to the house,” he says at last. “Knock on the door and give your keys to Connie.”

  “Actually, I won’t need to do that,” I tell him. “You see I don’t...”

  “Just go with it,” Kathy says. “Thanks, Mr. MacArthur!”

  He steps back from Sunny and gestures impatiently at the vehicle behind us.

  “What does Liam’s dad do for a living?” I ask Kathy.

  “Works rigs,” Kathy says.

  “Ohhhh.” Everyone says at once.

  “I bet nobody messes with him,” Amber says.

  The two labs bound out of the truck box and escort us to the house, barking excitedly, tails wagging, and tongues lolling.

  “I don’t like big dogs,” Dayna says.

  The smaller lab greets me when I open my door. She’s practically wriggling out of her skin.

  “Some guard dog!” I laugh.

  Liam’s mom, who has long red hair and Liam’s quirky gap-toothed smile, is friendly too. She shakes hands with each of us as we introduce ourselves. Her grip is firmer than I would have expected from a woman, and her hand feels calloused and rough. She tags my car keys and hangs them on a pegboard behind the door.

  “You girls come here if you need to pee,” Mrs. MacArthur says. “The boys can use the great outdoors. The world is their bathroom.”

  “I know, and it sucks,” Amber says.

  “Have a good time,” she says. “But be careful around those football players. Don’t get fooled by any sweet talk.”

  The dogs are gone when we come out of the house. The ground between it and the arena is a wasteland of frozen mud and ice patches and horse turds. The cold night air is pungent with barn smell.

  “I hope we get to see Liam’s horses,” Dayna says. “I really like horses.”

  “You don’t like big dogs, but you like horses,” Kathy says. “Does that make sense?”

  There’re already a couple dozen people at the party. Most of them are my teammates and football players. The quonset is lit with floodlights and a few strands of Christmas bulbs. It has a soft dirt floor, but there’s plywood laid out for dancing and an assortment of picnic tables and benches for seating. Some big heaters are blowing warm air not far from a bar made of planks and barrels, where Amy and a few football players are gathered. Liam’s serving them in his shirt sleeves.

  “Is this a rave?” Amber asks.

  “Hardly,” Kathy says.

  We join the rest of our team, congregated close to the heaters, and exchange enthusiastic hugs and high fives.

  “We’re on a roll now!” Miranda announces, smacking my outstretched palm.

  “Want a coke, Jessie?” Dayna asks.

  “Sure.” I hang back while Liam bartends for my carpool.

  When they return, they’re hanging on Amber, laughing.

  “What’s so funny?” I ask while Dayna hands me a can of Coke.

  “Amber’s got a new nickname,” Kathy wheezes. “Liam called her Betty Boop.”

  “I don’t know why.” Amber frowns.

  “He also wants to know if you’d like to see his horses. He said he’d take us over to the barn,” Dayna says.

  “All of us?” I ask.

  Kathy sips her drink. “I don’t think he cares who comes along – so long as you do.”

  I’m glad it’s too dark for her to see my face.

  Dayna, Kathy, Amber and I follow Liam to the barn. It’s a long, rambling b
uilding east of the quonset. Liam unbars a large sliding door and heaves it open, stepping aside to let us walk past. The barn is warmer than the quonset and better lit. There’re four large stalls on either side and several narrow ones. The usual horsey sounds greet us: hooves, snorts and large molars grinding hay.

  A pretty sorrel head is looking at us from the first stall.

  “This is Rusty,” Liam says, reaching up to scratch the horse’s ears. “She’s my ticket. Six-year-old quarter horse. Her registered name is Lady Freckles Lena.”

  “This is your favourite girl,” I say.

  Liam stares at me so intently I drop my gaze.

  We all take turns rubbing the white stripe on Rusty’s nose, patting her red coat, and generally sucking up. Liam disappears into the tack room and returns with an apple and a small knife. He cuts off a section for each of us, so we can feed her a treat.

  “She’s beautiful,” Dayna says as Rusty takes the chunk of apple from her outstretched palm. “Why is she your ticket?”

  “I’m training her to compete at Agribition,” Liam says.

  He briefly outlines the contest, which has three separate events: reining, cutting and fence work. The competition is followed by an auction. Proceeds from Rusty’s sale will help pay for Liam’s university education.

  “What do you hope to get for her?” Kathy asks.

  “What I hope for and what I’ll get are two entirely different things,” Liam says. “Horse prices have tanked lately.”

  “That’s a big risk, isn’t it?” I ask.

  “Anything worthwhile is risky.” Liam rubs Rusty behind the ears.

  “Won’t you be sad to sell her?” Dayna asks.

  “Oh yeah,” Liam says, as Rusty shoves Liam with her nose, pushing him back.

  “I think she’s saying she’ll miss you too,” Amber says.

  “Going to Agribition is a big deal,” Kathy observes. “People come from all over Canada and the US to compete.”

  “That’s the general idea,” he says. “Hopefully there’ll be a rancher who wants a great little cow horse like Rusty.”

  He takes us to the other stalls and introduces us to a three-year-old colt nicknamed Sherman and an old gelding named Buster.

  Liam nods. “Buster was Dad’s horse back in the day. Dad doesn’t ride anymore because of his knees. But he was quite a cowboy when he was in his prime. He did it all – saddle bronc, bull riding, calf roping. But his best event was steer wrestling.”

  “Those poor steers wouldn’t stand a chance,” Kathy says.

  Liam slides the door shut behind us as we leave the barn.

  “Thanks for letting us see your horses,” Amber says.

  “My pleasure,” he says.

  I try to plant myself in the middle of the girls on the way back to the quonset, but Liam calls out to me, “Jessie, hold on a sec.”

  I can’t see the girls’ expressions as they walk past, but Kathy flicks me on my ear. “Be nice!” she hisses.

  Once they’re gone, Liam asks, “So how’s it going with Whitney?”

  “We don’t talk.”

  “She ever fess up to starting that rumour?”

  “No, and it doesn’t matter. She’s learned the value of keeping her mouth shut.” I take a few steps towards the arena entrance.

  “Are you mad at me?” he asks.

  “No.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. Can I go back to the party now?”

  “You are mad at me.”

  “I’m not.”

  “You’re been avoiding me for weeks. Most of the time, you won’t even look at me.”

  “I’m dealing with stuff.”

  “We’re right back to where we were before Whitney’s party,” he says. “I thought we were making progress.”

  “Progress?” I laugh. “Where are we supposed to be going?”

  “Wherever you’ll let me take you,” he says quietly.

  His honesty is unnerving.

  “Liam, I just got out of a relationship. I can’t do that again.”

  He shifts his weight to his other foot, considering. “Just what are you saving yourself for?”

  “Aren’t you being a little personal?”

  “I’m not talking about sex,” Liam says. “It’s obvious you’re not that kind of girl. That’s probably why you started dating Billy Graham. So you wouldn’t have to worry about sex.”

  I’m blushing now. “Who in the hell have you been talking to?”

  “Think about it, Jessie. A long distance relationship with a guy who’s saving himself for his wedding night. What could be safer?”

  “What happened with me and Evan is none of your business!”

  “Can we talk about us then?”

  “There is no us.”

  My eyes have adjusted to the dark, and I can see his face more clearly. He’s frozen in place, eyes intent.

  “If you won’t go out with me,” he says, “don’t go out with anybody else. Okay?” He grabs my hand and squeezes it gently. His palm feels hard, like his mother’s.

  “Look, it’s not you that’s the problem.” I try to take my hand back, but he locks his fingers firmly around mine. “It’s me.”

  He steps closer. “How about I kiss you? That should convince me it’s not going to work.”

  “You’re only interested in me because I’m not interested in you,” I tell him. “If you kiss me, you won’t find me nearly as fascinating.”

  He brings his face close to mine. “Close enough to yes,” he says.

  His lips are soft and gentle, but when the kiss deepens, I pull away. He leans in again, but I step back. My blood is rushing to places, and my pulse is racing.

  “No more,” I whisper, freeing my hand.

  He clears his throat. “So much for that theory.”

  “I’m going back inside,” I squeak out. “The girls’ll be wondering where I am.”

  You’re ridiculous, my little voice says.

  “Please don’t go yet,” Liam says. “I want to ask you something.” It comes out in a rush. “I want you to be my escort for grad.”

  Oh no.

  “Liam, I can’t. The truth is...there’s this other guy, and I still like him.”

  My stupid words just hang in the air between us, surprising me as much as him.

  He folds his arms across his chest. “I guess that’s that.” He exhales slowly. “I won’t be bothering you anymore.”

  He goes in the arena, leaving me in the dark.

  – Chapter Thirty-two –

  One thing I will say for alcohol. Sometimes it paves the road to reconciliation.

  I’m not sure what went on at Liam’s party because I left five minutes after my conversation with him ended. But Monday morning at our usual table in the courtyard, Miranda and Amy are sitting hip to hip, talking and laughing.

  “They’re BFF’s now,” Kathy informs me. “You should have seen them at the party. They talked goalie shit until one in the morning.”

  “Awesome,” I tell her. “A little less drama in the dressing room wouldn’t hurt us.”

  “Good thing Brett came over after he got off work,” Kathy says pointedly, “or we wouldn’t have had a ride.”

  “Sorry.”

  “What happened with Liam anyway?” Kathy persists. “You stayed back to talk to him after we looked at the horses.”

  “Nothing,” I reply.

  She raises a blonde eyebrow. “Then why’d you take off like somebody shoved a firecracker up your ass?”

  “Don’t go there,” I say.

  “Up your ass?” she replies. “No problem.”

  “Did you know Liam named his dogs Little Ann and Old Dan, after the dogs in Where the Red Fern Grows?” Amber asks.

  “Awww,” everyone says.

  “I loved that book,” Amber says.

  “Liam is so cool,” Dayna says. “He’s our best fan.”

  “Yeah, he is,” Kathy says. “Isn’t that right, Jessie?”


  Mercifully the buzzer sounds for first class, and I seize the excuse to get the hell out of Dodge.

  Kathy’s right behind me though.

  “Mac, you are gonna tell me what happened at that party if it’s the last thing you do,” she says.

  I stop so suddenly she runs into me, knocking my books to the floor.

  “What the hell, Parker.”

  “What the hell yourself.”

  As we gather up my stuff, we narrowly avoid being trampled by the other students. When the hallway’s quiet, I tell her what happened. I nearly choke on the words, but I tell her everything. For once I don’t care if I’m late for class, and neither does Kathy.

  “You’re crazy, McIntyre,” Kathy says. “Deep down, you think you’re saving yourself for Mark, is that right?”

  “I don’t know,” I say. “Do you think there’s a chance I’ll get to see him when we play Saskatoon? The Hitmen are playing there that weekend.”

  “Who cares? The final buzzer sounded on Mark a long time ago. Meanwhile back at the ranch, Liam’s the real deal. Just ask Amy.”

  “I’m an idiot.” I blink back the tears. “And I don’t know how to fix this.”

  “You don’t have to fix it,” Kathy says. “Just quit screwing up.”

  –

  The week passes quickly enough. I see Liam a few times in the hallway and the cafeteria, but now he’s avoiding me.

  Should that surprise you, my little voice asks.

  If only there were a couple more hours in the day. There’s barely enough time for hockey and the gym, studying for unit exams in calculus and biology, finishing up an essay on Hamlet, and helping out with Courtney’s practice on Tuesday and her game against Moose Jaw on Thursday night. Gia’s dad wants me to run the defence.

  It’s kind of fun. The girls want to play better, and at least I don’t have to deal with Courtney. She does much better with Kathy or Gia’s dad giving her pointers on how to play left wing. One time in the Moose Jaw game, she ends up on a 2 and 0 with Gia, and it looks like she’s going to go offside.

  “Oh shit,” I moan.

  Just before she hits the blue line, she slows and lets Gia blow by, setting up behind her. When Gia fakes a shot and lets the puck drop back between her skates, Courtney winds up to fire on net but fans on the shot.

  She bangs her stick when she comes to the bench and curses under her breath.